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Chapter Text

Severus Snape strode swiftly through the seventh-floor corridor of the castle, leading to the headmaster’s office. He had received a note not ten minutes prior requesting that he join him immediately. As it was presently nearing midnight, Severus wasted no time abandoning his nightcap and a new potions book and making his way up from the dungeons.

He approached the stone gargoyles, and rolling his eyes; he said in his usual slow drawl, “Pixie Puffs.” The gargoyles lept aside, allowing Snape to enter the circular, stone staircase that began to move on its own, bringing him up to the office door, to which he knocked once and heard a quiet, “Enter,” spoken by Albus Dumbledore.

Snape stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

“You wanted to see me, Headmaster?”  

“Ah, Severus, my boy. Come in, come in. Have a seat, won’t you.” Albus gestured towards the chairs in front of his desk, and Snape sat down. Albus then held out a bowl of lemon drops, and Snape merely shook his head, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the man once again. 

Albus placed the bowl back down on the edge of his desk and gave a small sigh as he seemed to be thinking of just the right words to begin the conversation. He tented his fingers in front of his face before lowering them once more to the desk.

Unable to stand the quiet any longer, Snape said, “Headmaster, you did need to see me for something? Surely you didn’t have me leave my quarters just to sit here in silence?” 

Ignoring his question, though, Albus instead replied, “Severus, it is just the two of us here; there is no need for all these formalities as I’ve told you countless times over the last many years.” 

Snape bit back his usual scathing remark. Something was bothering the older man, and the faster he told him what it was, the faster he could get back to his nightcap. 

“What is it, dad?” 

“Harry Potter has just performed a vast display of accidental magic at his relatives home, and-” 

This time, Snape did indeed roll his eyes as he sat back in his chair with a huff. “Of course, this would be about Potter.” He hissed. “Tell me, did he have a tantrum when they did not cater to his every whim? Was his Welcome Home party not up to his standards?” 

Snape opened his mouth to say something else, but the look that the headmaster suddenly pointed in his direction was one that he hadn’t seen in a very long time. The usual twinkle was nowhere in sight, and Severus found himself straightening up in his chair. The rest of his reply died on his lips as he closed his mouth once more.

“I do not know what has caused the loss of control of Harry’s emotions, Severus. However, I do know that he has left their home and is now sitting alone at the Leaky Cauldron with nearly an entire Summer left before his return to Hogwarts.”

“Surely the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad can sort it all out.” Snape pointed out. 

“Yes, they have already taken care of everything. Unfortunately, however, Harry’s aunt and uncle are no longer willing to allow him to come back.” 

At this declaration, Albus pulled a letter from the desk and handed it over to Snape, who took it with a raised eyebrow. While scanning the paper, Snape’s lips almost twitched in a smirk at the words written there. Almost. 

“I suppose they’ve finally had enough of his arrogant and flagrant disregard for the rules, though I don’t blame them. I’ve been saying it all along; what Potter needs is discipline.”

“And is it discipline, Severus, to have Harry thrown out of his home onto the street? With no one to look after his well-being?” 

Snape scoffed at this as if his adoptive father had just said something quite unbelievable. “Oh, come off it, dad. We both know that by the time school lets out next year, they’ll have all cooled off and will likely welcome him home with open arms. I dare say Potter is probably loving the idea of being on his own for the summer. Though with his track record, he’ll have found trouble before the week is out, and someone will have to go and collect him. I expect Molly will jump at the chance to coddle the insufferable brat.”

Albus allowed Snape to say his piece and then leaned back in his chair, frowning slightly. 

“Be that as it may, I cannot allow Harry to spend the summer holidays alone, and I will not turn a blind eye to what may be more than it seems. I will not make the same mistakes with Harry that I almost made with you. I couldn’t bear it.” 

Neither man spoke for a while after that, each lost in their thoughts, remembering how Severus came to be in the care of the Headmaster. 

Eileen Snape had died the summer before Severus’ fourth year at Hogwarts, and that was the year that his father’s rage had escalated to new and more damaging heights. He had, as always, hid the bruises and fresh cuts and welts with a disillusionment charm before boarding the train at Kings Cross, but he couldn’t hide the broken ribs and sprained wrist no matter how hard he tried. Severus had passed out on the second day of term in the middle of History of Magic, and a classmate had immediately taken him to the hospital wing. The charms he had worked so hard to keep in place had faltered quickly, and Madam Pomfrey had seen everything. Then, despite all begging and pleading, Madam Pomfrey alerted Severus’s Head of House and the Headmaster about his condition. 

Severus lied to them, of course, desperately hoping that they would believe his feeble attempts to convince them that he had sustained his injuries some other way than by the hands of his father’s drunken rages. But they didn’t.

Severus never went back to Spinner’s End after that. Not until Tobias Snape had also died, some ten years ago. 

A tawny owl swooping in through the open window pulled both men back to the present as he dropped the second letter of the night on Dumbledore’s desk before flying out into the inky, black sky. 

Albus unrolled the single piece of parchment and recognized Minerva’s neat handwriting immediately. “It’s from your mother.” He supplied Snape's unasked question. He read the letter once and then a second time, his expression showing deepening anger with every passing word. He stood up and walked around the desk before thrusting the letter into Snape’s outstretched hand. Snape began to read it for himself.

Albus,

I have said all along that they are the worst sort of muggles, but even I never expected it to be to this extent. Using Evanesco, I’ve been inside the house, and after what I saw, he simply can’t be allowed to come back here, Albus. There are bars on his window! Locks and a CATFLAP on his door through which it seems they are putting what little food they give him. Unheated cans of soup and a moldy piece of bread! If you can call it that, his bedroom is bare of anything save for a small bed and a wardrobe. But that’s not even the worst part! It looked as if the lock on the cupboard under the stairs had been blasted open, and when I looked inside, I found a makeshift bed of dirty blankets and a handful of broken toys. To think he must have been living there! None of this even touches on how the muggles were acting when I first arrived, though, of course, they didn’t see me, but it was absolutely dreadful. 

I’m staying here until the ministry gets here to do a full investigation, but I should be home in the morning to tell you even more then. Harry is not coming back here, Albus. I absolutely will not have it! 

Minerva

Snape put down the letter and stood up to walk over to the window, looking out over the grounds as he crossed his arms in front of him. It was a while before he spoke, but when he did, his voice sounded strained.

“I don’t suppose Mum could be exaggerating?” He glanced over his shoulder at Albus.

The vehement glare that Dumbledore shot his way answered that question, and for the second time that night, Severus remembered the all too familiar feeling of being scolded by the man. “No, I didn’t think so.” He added on before turning back towards the window. 

Another moment passed in silence before Dumbledore nodded to himself and said in a no-nonsense voice, “You’ll collect him in the morning then.”  

Snape looked up, stunned by his father’s words. “I will?” 

The Headmaster nodded again. “Of course you will. He simply can’t stay alone in the Leaky Cauldron all summer. Not that I don’t trust Tom to keep an eye on the boy, but you said it yourself, he’ll likely find trouble within the week, and with Black on the loose, he must be kept safe. Yes,” He went on as if convincing himself, “this is the safest place for him. We’ll have to turn your guest room down in your quarters into a room more suitable for a thirteen-year-old, of course.”

“My guest room? Da-”

“Well, where else is he going to sleep, Severus? You can’t expect him to stay alone in Gryffindor Tower all summer.” 

“You’ve got to be joking!” Severus suddenly seemed to find his voice, and it was rising as if what Dumbledore was suggesting was only just now sinking in. “I’m not taking the brat in! Aside from the fact that I’m sure countless people would be willing, least of all the Weasley’s, the boy hates me, and I assure you, Headmaster, the feeling is mutual!” 

“Ah, Severus,” Albus said almost cheerily as if his son hadn’t just admitted to hating a student. “I can’t think of anyone more suited to take him in. And besides that, the Weasleys are on holiday in Egypt now, not that it matters. They would hardly be able to take on another child no matter how much they would like to. No, Harry will come here.”

“And what if I don’t want to do this?” Snape huffed. “What if I outright refuse?” 

Dumbledore turned sad eyes to Severus. “Would you, my son? Would you refuse a boy the chance to have a safe place? The chance to be happy and healthy? Would you deny him those things when you know what it feels like not to have them? What of your promise, hm? Did you not willingly promise me anything?”

“Please don’t ask me to do this,” Snape begged, his voice soft as he turned his back on the window and leaned against the frame, his arms still crossed over his chest as he stared down at the floor in front of him. 

Dumbledore crossed the office to stand in front of him and used his finger to tip his chin up to look him in the eyes as he had so often done in the past. Snape had long since stopped flinching away at the slight contact, and dark, obsidian eyes met bright blue ones. 

“Severus, if you can’t find it in your heart to look past an old rivalry with a dead man for Harry’s sake, do it for her. You promised to keep her son safe. Harry is Lily’s son just as much as he is James’.”

After several long moments in which Snape truly warred with himself, he finally gave a faint nod, and Albus smiled, the twinkle once more in place.

“Alright, but I’m telling you right now, I will not coddle that boy. I will not stand by while he continuously disobeys every rule set to keep him safe. If I’m to do this, then I’m doing it my way. He will have rules, and when he breaks them, he will be held responsible for his actions.”

Dumbledore nodded but spoke firmly, “As you wish, Severus; however, if I find that you have abused your power over him, you will answer to me. Are we clear?”

Snape gave a swift nod and moved away from the window towards the door. “If there’s nothing else, I really would like to get back. It seems I have much to do before in the morning.” 

Dumbledore smiled. “Good night, Severus.” He called after him.

“Good night, Dad.” He answered back with one last roll of his eyes though there was no annoyance behind it. He sighed as he stepped out of the office and shut the door behind him. 

“Merlin,” he groaned, “all I wanted was to enjoy my drink and finish my book.”

Chapter Text

As Harry left the Leaky Cauldron the next morning, he had a hard time deciding what to do first. He had never really been to Diagon Alley alone before, and he was anxious to begin exploring the many shops. He had a few coins leftover from last year but he would need to make a trip to Gringotts before long. 

Finally, deciding that he could wait until tomorrow for that, Harry began to walk up the cobblestone street, carefully winding his way around the large groups of witches and wizards that were already bustling about the alley. 

His first stop was Quality Quidditch Supplies, where he, like many others, ended up staring longingly at the newest, top-of-the-line broom, The Firebolt! Harry was sure that he had never wanted anything more in his life. Knowing that it would likely take every galleon from his parent’s vault in Gringotts to afford it, Harry finally pulled himself away from the window and continued down the street. 

He stopped by Florean Fortescue’s next and settled for treating himself to an ice cream sundae, despite the fact that he had only just had breakfast an hour ago.  

Harry crossed to the other side of the street and began to make his way back towards the entrance to the alley, peering in shops as he went along. Occasionally looking up at one of the many Wanted posters for Sirius Black. Each time Harry felt a jolt in the pit of his stomach at the way that Black seemed to be screaming manically out at him. Eventually, Harry stopped looking at them all together.

 Just past Obscurus Books, sat Gambol and Japes Joke Shop, and remembering how Fred and George had talked about it the year before, Harry decided to take a look inside. The owner, a man with a white beard and mustache, grinned broadly at him as he rushed over and shook his hand, before leading him to a collection of Dr. Filibuster’s Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks. Harry explored the shop for an hour before he left, the owner having shrunk his packages so that they fit easily inside the pockets of his baggy jeans. 

Once back out in the bright sunlight, Harry was on his way again, only to pull up short a few shops down. He was standing at the entrance to Knockturn Alley. He had only been there once, last year when he had accidentally flooed to the wrong fireplace while with the Weasley’s, and he didn’t really have any wish to go back, except that, he was curious as to what was down there. 

Harry knew that it wasn’t the sort of place that he should go, even Hagrid had said so, but he didn’t see how it could be dangerous to just take a look. Besides, he reasoned with himself, Fudge had only said he couldn’t go out into muggle London. He hadn’t said anything about Knockturn Alley. 

Making up his mind, Harry looked around and saw that no one was paying him any attention, and then he turned right, noticing immediately that it seemed darker and gloomier than it had just a moment ago. He determinedly told himself that the sun must have just gone back behind the clouds and that he was being stupid to think anything of it. He walked further down the alley and was almost to Borgin and Burkes when he felt a hand on his shoulder and heard a cold, low voice from behind him. “Straying from the path already, are we Potter? How very predictable.” 

Harry closed his eyes and swallowed hard before turning slowly on his heel. He looked up to see none other than his least favorite Hogwarts professor. Snape was glaring down at him and Harry dropped his gaze.

“With me,” Snape said cooly, before turning and making his way back up towards Diagon Alley, leaving Harry to have to jog to keep up with him. His mind was whirring as he followed Snape along. Surely he couldn’t be in trouble. It was summertime after all and he wasn’t in school. Snape didn’t have any right to take points or hand out detentions now, did he? Harry had the sinking feeling that he was about to find out. 

Suddenly, Harry looked up only to realize that he had followed Snape all the way back to the entrance to Diagon Alley and he was now tapping the bricks with his wand to allow them back into the Leaky Cauldron. Once inside, Snape made his way over to Tom, the barman, and said, “I would appreciate the use of your floo, Tom.” He pulled a piece of parchment from his robes and borrowed the quill that Tom had behind the bar before writing out a short note and folding it.

Tom nodded and said, “Of course, Professor. Anything else?” 

Snape glanced at Harry and replied before handing Tom the note, “Yes, see to it that this gets to the Headmaster and kindly send Mr. Potter’s things up to the castle. He will remain there for the duration of the holidays.” 

“But sir,” Harry burst out, “just because I-” But Harry didn’t get to finish his sentence because Snape rounded on him so fast that he took a step back, flinching slightly. If Snape noticed, he said nothing. 

“You would do well to keep silent, Potter.” Snape sneered and this time, Harry glared right back, though he did think better of saying anything for the moment. 

Snape seemed to accept this for he gave one, silent nod and turned away before leading Harry to the room that he had met with Fudge in the previous night. He took the floo powder from the mantel, and seeming to decide that he would have to talk to him, Snape gave an almost imperceptible sigh and said, “I assume you’ve used the floo before?” 

“Yes,” Harry answered with as much attitude as he dared, leaving out the fact that it hadn’t gone very well. 

“Good.” Snape poured a handful of the green powder into Harry’s outstretched hand and pointed him towards the fireplace. “Floo to Professor Dumbledore’s office. He is expecting you. I’ll be along in a moment.” 

Harry nodded and stepped inside before clearly stating his destination and dropping the powder. The last thing he saw through the rush of green flames was Snape’s robes billowing back out into the hallway. 

A minute later, Harry fell out of the fireplace, banging his knee hard on the stones.

“I really hate floo travel.” He mumbled as he stood up, brushing the soot off his clothes before looking up to see Dumbledore smiling down at him.

“Hello, Harry. I must confess, the floo is not my favorite means of travel either.” 

Harry blushed and said, “Hi, Professor. Sorry, Snape said you were expecting me.”

“Professor Snape,” Dumbledore corrected as he motioned for Harry to take a seat in front of the desk. Harry sat down in the same chair that Snape had occupied the night before. “And he was quite right that I was expecting you. I believe he’ll be joining us shortly, but I wanted to speak with you alone first.” He picked up the bowl of candies and held it out to the boy. “Lemon drop?” 

Harry politely took one and thanked him, though instead of eating it, he placed it on the arm of the chair. 

“Am I in trouble, sir?” Harry finally asked, unable to stop himself.

“Why would you be in trouble, Harry?” Dumbledore questioned as if he hadn’t had the slightest idea.

Harry squirmed in his seat and said, “I know I shouldn’t have gone to Knockturn Alley, but really, Fudge never said I couldn’t and nothing even happened anyway.”

“Minister Fudge,” said Dumbledore quietly, “And no, you are not. That’s not to say that it was okay for you to be down there, Harry, but it’s not what I wanted to speak with you about today.” 

“Oh,” Harry said simply. 

Dumbledore seemed to be watching him intently for a moment before he spoke once more. “I was rather wanting to speak with you about what happened at your relatives home last night-”

“I didn’t mean to do that.” Harry interrupted quickly, hoping that Dumbledore would believe him.

The headmaster held up his hand. “Of course you didn’t, Harry.” He assured him. “It’s called accidental magic after all and no one blames you for it.” 

“Uncle Vernon does,” Harry mumbled quietly to the floor. If Harry had been looking up, he would have seen a flicker of anger pass over Dumbledore’s face before he schooled his features once more. 

“Yes, well, that’s part of what I would like to speak with you about.”

Harry looked up, giving all his attention to the man sitting across from him. 

“Harry, it seems as if your aunt and uncle have decided that it would be best for you to remain here for the duration of the summer, and of course you’ll be here throughout the school year as well.” Harry nodded. He figured as much and it was all right with him. “Which brings me to where you will be staying. I’m sure you would have liked to stay on at the Leaky Cauldron, however, the mere fact that you’re not even thirteen-”

“I will be at the end of July!” Dumbledore gave him a pointed look and Harry blushed again. 

“Sorry.” 

Dumbledore smiled once more. “It’s quite alright. Though even if you were thirteen, staying alone there for the next six weeks is simply out of the question. The Weasley’s I’m sure would love for you to come and stay with them, but as you know, they’re out of the country until the last week in August.” 

Harry nodded. “It’s okay, Professor. I don’t mind staying in the tower alone.” 

Dumbledore laughed, his eye twinkling, and said, “Ah, my boy, I’m sure you wouldn’t! However, as it stands, a member of the staff has stepped up and offered to house you until school resumes.” 

Harry racked his brain trying to think who it could be when at that precise moment, the floo roared to life and Snape stepped out. He couldn’t help but notice that he wasn’t covered in soot or thrown to the floor as Harry had been. Maybe it got easier with practice. 

And then it dawned on him. He glanced between Dumbledore and Snape and his eyes widened. “No!”

“Now, Harry-”

“Professor, please, you don’t understand. I won’t last two days with Snape as my guardian!” 

“Do cease with the dramatics, Potter. If I wanted you dead, I would have done it when I caught you and Mr. Weasley in that blasted flying car last year.” Snape said drily as he gave Dumbledore a look that plainly said, “I told you so,” before moving to stand near the other chair. 

Dumbledore seemed to be ignoring both of them in favor of gazing out the window towards the quidditch pitch. 

“He hates me, Professor. I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“We could fill a cauldron with the things you don’t think about.” Snape shot back. 

“Enough,” Dumbledore said sharply, bringing both Snape and Harry to silence. He turned his attention to Harry and said, “Harry, Professor Snape has agreed to take you in, and like it or not, with him you shall stay. I’m aware of the feelings you have for each other so I know that it may indeed be asking too much that the two of you get along for the next six weeks, but I do hope that it goes without saying that you will be civil to one another. Harry, you will abide by Professor Snape’s rules and you will do your best to stay safe and out of trouble. In return, Professor Snape will make sure you are well taken care of.” He eyed both of them before saying, “Am I perfectly clear?” 

Snape nodded mutely and Harry, never having heard Dumbledore speak so sternly, least of all to him, answered, “Yes, sir.” Though it was a little more grudgingly than either of the older men would have liked, Dumbledore however thought it would be the best he could ask for and nodded in return. 

“Alright. I will leave you with Professor Snape then, Harry, and Severus, I will see you later this evening.” 

At this, Snape walked over and held the door open for Harry to pass through before leading the way down to the dungeons.

“This,” Harry thought, “was not going to end well.”

Chapter Text

Harry numbly followed Snape down staircases and through corridors on the way to the dungeons, with nothing breaking the silence except for the sound of their shoes against the stone floor as they went along. Harry thought it seemed louder because the castle was so empty. They hadn’t passed a single person along the way. Hogwarts, Harry thought, was for the first time almost eerie. He wasn’t used to the grounds being so still. It made the long walk down to Snape’s quarters even more unnerving. 

Snape stopped walking so suddenly that Harry only just caught himself before bumping into the man. They stood in the middle of the corridor, about halfway down from the Potions classroom, in front of a large, heavy, oak door with a brass handle. Harry looked up expectantly, wondering why Snape didn’t just open the door, but instead, Snape regarded him silently for a moment before finally saying, “Place your hand on the handle, Potter.” 

Harry reached up and turned the handle but it wouldn’t open. “It’s locked,” he said simply. 

Snape narrowed his eyes at him. “Obviously. I asked you to place your hand on it, not attempt to open it.” 

Harry bristled at that but otherwise said nothing. He kept his hand in place as Snape pulled his wand from inside his left cuff. Harry almost jerked back but stopped himself just before Snape tapped his wand on Harry’s hand and muttered, “Resideotem.” 

A pale, bluish-green light shot out of the end of Snape’s wand and seemed to wrap itself around Harry’s hand and the doorknob. A few seconds later it faded and Snape nodded to himself. 

“Now open the door.” He again tried to turn the knob, and this time the door clicked open immediately for him. Harry looked up in surprise as Snape passed him and walked into his parlor. “It’s spelled to always allow you entry to these rooms. That door will never be locked to you.” 

Harry still looked confused as he followed him inside. “Er, thanks.” 

Snape had moved further into the parlor and gestured to the couch as he took a seat in one of the plush, leather armchairs sitting next to the fireplace. 

“You might as well sit down, Potter. We have a lot to discuss and I’m sure that the ice cream sundae you got from Fortescue has long since gone, so we’ll be having lunch as soon as we’ve finished here.” 

Harry sat down slowly, sparing barely a thought to how Snape knew he’d had ice cream, and glanced around the room. He wasn’t sure what he had thought Snape’s sitting room ought to look like but he hadn’t been expecting for it to feel almost comfortable and inviting. There was a small coffee table in front of the couch and an end table between the two chairs.

 The mantle above the fireplace was black and held nothing but a small jar of floo powder. Most of the furniture was dark wood, maybe walnut, Harry had thought. The walls were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves except for the back wall behind Snape’s chairs. Harry stared almost transfixed at the long window and realized it must be spelled like the ceiling in the great hall, for how else could he explain seeing sunshine across the castle grounds from deep in the dungeons. Below the window sat a small table with a single plant perched on top. He didn’t know what kind it was but he thought it was pretty with its dark blue flower petals. And that definitely didn’t fit with what Harry expected to find in Snape’s quarters. 

Snape cleared his throat and Harry jerked his head up to look at him. 

“Are you quite through inspecting my parlor, Potter? I’m sure it’s not as grand as what you’re used to but you will just have to make do.” 

Harry could feel his cheeks burning as he stuttered, “I didn’t- I mean I wasn’t-”

“Eloquent as always, I see.” When Harry didn’t respond, but instead just glared back at him, Snape began to speak. “Since you will be staying here at least until term starts, Potter, you may as well understand now that all the foolish rule-breaking and sneaking about that you have become accustomed to ends now. I will not be like the rest of the adults in your life that choose to ignore it and I certainly will not be rewarding you for it.”

“I don’t get rewarded for it.” Harry snapped before he could stop himself. Snape raised an eyebrow.

“Did you not, barely a month ago, receive points for going into the chamber with-” He was cut off.

“To save Ginny!” Harry exclaimed.

“And you just as easily could have gone to an adult. Furthermore, that is the second time in as many minutes that you have interrupted me, I would advise against a third time. You would also do well to not raise your voice to me either. It is both disrespectful and shows a lack of your ability to have a mature conversation when you can’t control your temper and emotions.” 

Harry bit back a retort about how Snape was definitely one to talk about holding his temper and instead crossed his arms and forced himself to speak quietly. 

“We went to Lockhart.” But even Harry could admit that that was dumb, 

“Whom you knew could hardly be considered a competent adult. Was he of any help whatsoever to you and Mr. Weasley while in the chamber?” Snape sat back in his chair and waited as Harry tried to come up with a good reason for having gone to Lockhart. 

Finally, having thought of nothing, Harry shook his head. Snape nodded curtly in response and said, “Now, if we may finish our original discussion of what I expect of you while staying here.” Harry again, didn’t reply.

Snape had thought all night and most of the day about this very conversation. He knew he needed to set boundaries and clear, constant consequences, but not knowing the extent of the abuse he likely had withstood at his relatives, he was reluctant, to say the least. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to discipline the boy, he had been head of Slytherin’s house for nearly thirteen years and as such, had dealt out many punishments, but this was different. He wasn’t simply handing out detentions or docking points here. As much as he would like to pretend it wasn’t so, Severus Snape was now the guardian of Harry Bloody Potter. He wasn’t just his student anymore, and if Snape wanted this to work out, and even if he didn’t, Albus surely did, he was going to have to change a few things. Like it or not. 

He thought back to that morning when Minerva had come back to the castle. She’d sunk heavily down in one of the armchairs in the parlor she shared with Albus and kept her eyes averted to the window that overlooked the grounds. Several minutes went by in silence before she was able to turn to her husband and son, the tears in her eyes were just barely being kept at bay. 

“They are horrible.” She had managed in a choked whisper. 

Albus had immediately gone to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as Severus moved to sit on the couch. Minerva told them how the Ministry had come and performed a series of spells that proved that Harry had been physically abused by Vernon Dursley as recently as last week. It was all they needed to revoke their guardianship of the boy and place him firmly in the hands of Severus, who had gone right after to officially petition the ministry for temporary custody. 

Snape wasn’t naive enough to think that this would all work out nicely, wrapped up in ribbons and bows, there was too much...too much of everything, between the two. Too much anger and resentment. Too much stubbornness and built up frustrations from both of them. It would undoubtedly be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Second maybe only to his time as a Death Eater and spy. But Snape knew that he couldn’t justify turning a blind eye to him. He knew what it was to be abused and cast aside as the filth that one finds on the bottom of their shoe. Not even the boy who lived to make his life miserable deserved that.

 As he looked at the boy in front of him, this boy who was the spitting image of his childhood tormenter, he knew that he would try. He would try his best, not because of James, but for Lily. For Lily, he would stop at nothing to protect her son. 

Snape shook his head to clear his thoughts before his mind could unwillingly bring up memories that he would much rather never think about. He cleared his throat once more and said, “Right, first of all, you will be polite and respectful, not only to me but to any adult here. I’ll not have you disrespecting the teachers or thinking that you don’t need to listen to them just because it’s summer.”

“I wouldn’t,” Harry said when Snape paused, sure that he couldn’t be accused of interrupting again.

“See to it that you don’t.” Snape nodded and went on. “I also, of course, expect that you will not lie, cheat or steal. There is no excuse for such disrespect. And that includes lying by omission. If I ask you something, I want a straight answer. If something happens that I should know about, you had better tell me. I assure you, you will not enjoy the consequences should I find out later. That goes for cheating or stealing as well. I will absolutely not tolerate it. I won’t disrespect you in those ways and you will do me the same courtesy. Understood?” 

Harry thought back to last year when he, Ron, and Hermione had stolen the ingredients for Polyjuice Potion from Snape’s storeroom. It had been a close call and honestly, he wasn’t looking to have to repeat that anytime soon. He nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.” 

“Alright, now, every morning you will wake up and get yourself ready to be in the kitchen for breakfast by eight-thirty. There will be no sleeping the day away that I’m sure you’re used to just because you’re not in school.” Harry resisted the urge to tell him that he never slept in. Instead, he gave another nod. “After breakfast, you will work on your Summer assignments for at least two hours, after which you can read or otherwise occupy yourself with something quietly until lunch.”

“Do you have my entire day planned out, sir? Will there be bells so that I know when it’s time to move on to something new?” Harry asked stiffly. He knew his voice sounded on edge and he didn’t care. 

“You will watch your cheek, Potter, or you will find yourself in trouble faster than even I imagined you could. Do you understand?” 

Harry glared at the man across from him and spat, “Yes.” 

“Yes, sir. ” Snape corrected.

Harry continued to glare vehemently for a moment before finally looking away towards the fireplace and, as if he would rather eat dirt than follow any order from Snape, he said, “Yes. Sir.” 

Snape watched Harry for a long moment as he kept his gaze firmly focused on the fireplace. The boy’s entire body spoke volumes. The way his jaw was set as he grit his teeth, his back and shoulders tense and straight, not relaxing into the couch but rather sitting on the edge as if preparing to jump away at any second. His arms still crossed over his chest, his hands balled into tight fists. Even his feet, as they were placed one in front of the other, pointing towards the door away from Snape, screamed that he just wanted to get up. To leave. 

And that’s when Snape saw it. Just a slight tremble near his glasses. Unnoticeable unless you were looking for it, and Snape had been looking for it. He wondered when the boy in front of him had learned Disillusionment Charms. Maybe Granger had shown him, but then again, Snape didn’t think Potter had confided in his friends the extent of his home life, for surely the girl would have insisted he told an adult. For that matter, the spell could likely even have been another bit of accidental magic. Snape would have to think about how to bring it up. Embarrassing the boy would do him no good at all. If his own past experiences were anything to go by, Potter would likely shut down altogether. No, he would approach this carefully.

Snape decided to wrap up their conversation and spoke once more.

"After lunch will be your free time to do for the most part as you wish, provided that you ask and I've given permission. I want to know where you're going and who you'll be with and I expect you to return when I tell you to." Harry nodded mutely. "Dinner will be here at six and you will be present and on time. Afterward, you're in these quarters for the remainder of the evening." 

Harry definitely wanted to protest this but thought better of it. He just wanted Snape to say his peace so he could go. 

"Any questions?" 

Harry shook his head and said, "No." However, a few seconds later he looked back over to Snape and said, "But if I have some later, can I ask you then?" 

Snape nodded. "You may."

       He stood then and said, "Follow me then and I'll show you to your room." 

Harry got up and walked behind Snape out of the parlor and into a dimly lit hallway. Snape motioned towards the two doors on the left and said, “That’s my room and my lab, you will stay out of both unless I tell you otherwise.” Harry nodded.

 He had no interest in Snape’s rooms anyway. He turned to the only door on the right, about middle ways down the hall, and said, “This will be your room. The door at the very end of the hall is a small bathroom, however, we both have our own bathrooms connecting to our rooms as well. That one is generally just used for guests.” 

Harry found it difficult to think that Snape would have guests here but he didn’t have much time to dwell on it because Snape had opened the door to his bedroom. He looked inside almost apprehensively. He had heard Snape say he had a room, but the Dursleys had called the cupboard under the stairs his room as well, and that hardly compared to an actual bedroom.

The cupboard under the stairs wasn’t even in the same universe as this bedroom. Harry’s eyes widened and his jaw almost dropped. Almost. He stood inside the doorway of the biggest bedroom he’d ever seen. Bigger even than Dudley’s first bedroom! The walls were a light grey, trimmed in white. Candelabras were fastened to the walls to give off light. Against the far wall stood a cherry wood, four-poster bed. It wasn’t massive or anything, but it was bigger than his bed in his dormitory and looked just as inviting. It had a simple, blue quilt and two pillows that matched. Not a lumpy cast off with the stuffing coming out like he had back at Privet Drive. Beside it stood a small nightstand that an oil lamp sat on.

Harry’s eyes moved across the room. Under another magical window sat a small desk that matched the bed. A chair was pushed under it. A bookshelf stood beside it and a few books were already placed inside it. They weren’t his school books though, Harry was certain, so they must belong to Snape and he had left them in here. A fireplace took up the whole of the left corner, a small, crackling fire already lit inside it. The door to the bathroom, Harry noticed, was also on that wall. When Harry stepped fully inside and turned towards Snape who had already walked in and was standing beside the bed, he noticed a wardrobe in the corner and his trunk already at the edge of the bed. 

Snape watched as Harry took in the room. Remembering what Minerva had said about the boy’s “room” at his relatives, Snape knew he had been on the right track when he’d decided to magically expand his small spare room to almost the size of his own and adding the bewitched window to show the castle grounds instead of the eeriness of the Black Lake that could be seen through the windows in the Slytherin dungeons. 

“I trust that it is up to your standards?” Snape said in his low, drawl. It wouldn’t do for the boy to know that he knew anything of his home life. Not unless he wanted him to completely shut down. No, better to keep up the act of the feared bat of the dungeons. 

But then Harry turned fully to face him, his green eyes flickering up to Snape’s and then down again. He could see him swallow, then clear his throat before he looked back up. “Thank you, Professor.” He whispered.

Snape didn’t respond to the thanks. Children shouldn’t have to thank anyone for having a bedroom. And certainly not that sincerely. Instead, he nodded once and eyed Harry’s baggy jeans and the grey t-shirt that was several sizes too big and had a rip in the sleeve.

 “Start unpacking and get changed. Lunch will be ready in fifteen minutes.” He said before turning and walking out the door, leaving Harry alone in his bedroom.

Chapter Text

Harry stood alone in his new room for several minutes after Severus left simply taking it all in. Just yesterday, he was living with the Dursleys, trying to do homework by flashlight and living off the scraps that they left at the table for him to clean up. Now, he stood in a bedroom that was supposedly his, inside the living quarters of his most hated teacher at Hogwarts. At this point, he wasn’t sure which was better. 

Dumbledore has finally lost it, he thought.  He’s cracked! Doesn’t he know what’s going to happen to him now?

Granted, Harry didn’t know himself what was going to happen, but that was part of the problem. At least with the Dursleys, he knew what to expect. He had gotten better over the years at judging Uncle Vernon’s moods and learning to stay out of arm's reach. To stay quiet and not get in anyone's way. And on the occasions that he couldn’t help it, well, he got better at covering it up. He reached a hand up and gingerly touched the left side of his face and winced. 

Snape was new territory, though. Sure he’d seen him angry before, but that was just as a teacher. Now it was so much worse. Now Snape had Harry exactly where he wanted him,  Harry didn’t know how far the man could be pushed before he took his anger out on him. One thing was for sure, though, he would have to find out. Harry glanced over at his truck filled with his few possessions. Later, he decided quickly, he would find out later. He was supposed to be changing, which sounded dumb to Harry. Why would he need to change clothes just for lunch?

Harry opened his trunk and started rummaging around, tossing old pieces of parchment, books, and the rest of his school things aside as he searched for his school uniform, thinking all the while that he shouldn’t be made to wear it during the holidays. Just because Snape insisted on looking like an overgrown bat year-round didn’t mean Harry should have to. 

“Jenka,” Snape said into the air as he came back into the parlor. A moment later a small house-elf, wearing a neat tea towel popped into the room.

“Yes, Master Snape?” The little elf bowed low before she stood back up and looked expectantly at Snape.

“Jenka, would you please have lunch on the table in about fifteen minutes? Remember, Harry Potter is my ward now so he will also need to eat.” 

Jenka’s large, blue eyes widened as she exclaimed, “Of course, Master Snape! Jenka be’s making all of Master Harry Potter’s favorites, sir! Jenka sees the young master in the Great Hall with the other students, sir, and Jenka is knowing what he loves to eat, sir!”

Snape shook his head. “Thank you, Jenka, but that won’t be necessary. Whatever you have will do, and Potter will take it or leave it.” 

Jenka crossed her arms over her tiny chest and if possible, sent a stern look up to the man towering above her. “Jenka always has been giving Master Snape his favorites on the bad days and Jenka is giving Master Harry, chicken sandwiches and pumpkin juice today, sir.”

Snape scowled but gave a short nod of his head before replying, “And a vegetable.” 

Jenka smiled and vanished.

Snape rolled his eyes and sat back down in his armchair to wait on Harry. All things considered, he thought that their conversation had gone as well as could be expected. He had known all along that this wasn’t going to be all sunshine and daisies, but all he had to do was keep the boy safe until the start of term. Granted, Potter wasn’t going to make it easy, especially if he found out about Black, but he was Severus Snape for Merlin’s sake! He could handle one thirteen-year-old wizard for the summer. Even if said wizard was Harry Potter. 

Snape was pulled from his thoughts as Harry walked back into the parlor. He raised an eyebrow at the boy's choice of clothing but said nothing as he led the way across the room through a swinging door that led to the kitchen. As soon as they sat down at the circular, wooden table in the small kitchen, their food appeared before them. Snape noticed that true to her word, Jenka had given Harry chicken sandwiches, raw carrots, and pumpkin juice. He also noticed how Harry smiled slightly down at the meal. In Snape’s own plate sat shepherds pie and a small salad. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes at Jenka making sure to give him his own favorite as well. Honestly, it wasn’t as if he was a child that she needed to appease in order to keep happy.

Out of the corner of his eye, Snape noticed that while he was eyeing his food hungrily as if it were a decadent sweet instead of a chicken sandwich, Harry wasn’t eating. Remembering what Minerva had said about the canned soup that had been sitting on his floor at his relatives, Snape wondered if the boy was afraid of not being allowed to eat much here. 

“Don’t just stare at your food, Potter.” He said, feeling the direct approach would be best. “Jenka did not go through the trouble of making it just so that you can let it go to waste.” And with that, Snape picked up his own fork and began to eat. 

Slowly, as if cautiously, Harry picked up his sandwich and took a bite. After a few tense moments of silence, Snape took a drink of his tea and looked over to Harry.

“When I asked you to change clothes, I simply meant to change into something neater, that wasn’t covered in soot or ripped. Preferably in your actual size. I didn’t mean your school uniform.” He stated in what he was sure wasn’t a gentle tone, though he did hope that he didn’t come off as harsh or cross. The last thing he needed was for Potter to be even more afraid of him than he had been the last two years. That would do nothing to help the situation. 

Harry didn’t even look up though. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on his already half-eaten sandwich, the carrots had been completely ignored, as he said, “All my clothes are the same. These are my nice ones.”

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. “All of them? There’s nothing without holes or that fits you?” He could see the color rising in Harry’s face even as he kept his head down. 

“Yeah, well, they have to buy Dudley new clothes and there’s no point buying me any when I can just wear his old ones, is there?”

Snape glowered, though Harry didn’t see it. “The point would be that you both have adequate, well-fitted clothing.”

Harry just shrugged and replied, “It’s not a big deal.” Then he picked up his sandwich and took another tentative bite, before deciding to change the subject away from himself. “Who’s Jenka?” 

“She is a house-elf,” Snape said stiffly before taking another bite of his own food. “Eat the carrots as well.” 

“Like Dobby? Does she belong to you?” Harry looked up in interest, pointedly still ignoring the carrots on his plate as if they had personally done something to affront him.

“Dobby? The elf that belonged to the Malfoy’s?” 

Harry nodded. “I met him last summer. He used a hover charm on my aunt’s pudding while they were having dinner with Uncle Vernon’s boss.”

There it was. The boy had brought up his relatives on his own. This was the opportunity that Snape needed. He chewed a bite of his shepherd’s pie thoughtfully, then asked, “How did your relatives feel about that? Dobby and the pudding, I mean.” 

Harry’s green eyes flashed up to his own for a brief second before dropping back to his plate. “It was fine.” He muttered as he rubbed his hand over the right side of his jaw before he half-heartedly picked up a carrot and took a tiny bite. 

“Really?” Snape asked. “I would have thought they would be really upset that a house-elf had ruined their dinner. I would have been.” Snape wasn’t sure where he was going with this, but he was hoping that it might at least get the child talking. The Ministry had all the proof that they needed, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt if Harry opened up a bit about the abuse, if only so that he could begin to heal himself. “Of course, maybe they didn’t see Dobby at all.” Harry made a face at his plate and Snape knew he was on the right track. “Did they think you did the hover charm, Potter? Did you get into trouble for it?” 

Harry scowled up at him suddenly. This whole conversation was unnerving Harry and he didn’t like it. Just who did Snape think he was, sitting here eating together and talking to him as if the past two years had never happened?! As if he hadn’t, just this past year, tried to get him and Ron expelled for showing up at school in the flying car. Like he hadn’t insulted him every chance he got! 

This was all just some game to Snape. Well, he wasn’t going to play along! Harry could feel that same anger he had felt when Aunt Marge was saying those horrible things about his parents. He felt it coursing through him, burning white-hot. His breathing was becoming more ragged and suddenly he was standing up, their plates began to shake on the table. 

“You would have liked that, wouldn’t you? Everyone’s favorite celebrity is finally getting what he deserves, maybe being tossed out onto the street. Sorry to disappoint you, Professor, but all they did was make me wish they’d chucked me out. I couldn’t move my arm for two days, but I guess you think I got off light like all the other times I-”

Snape, having felt the uncontrolled magic pulsating around the boy, was quick to act, wordlessly vanishing their lunch and summoning a small jar full of a purple liquid from his lab and opening it before placing it on the table. It immediately began to fill the room with a calming aroma that wafted up and around Harry. As if it sensed that he needed it most. 

“Potter. Potter, look at me.” Snape sternly interrupted the boy once he was standing in front of him. Harry looked up. “You will calm down this instant, young man.” 

Harry snapped his mouth shut instantly when he realized Snape was standing so close. He was still glowering but he was making an effort to calm himself and slow his racing heartbeat. 

Snape nodded. “Very good.” He watched Harry as he began to relax, the effects of the calming vapor taking a toll on him. “That’s it, just breathe. In and out.” 

For a long moment, neither one spoke, but once Harry’s breathing had returned to normal, Snape motioned to the chair and Harry sat down. 

Snape sat back down in his own chair but turned it sideways so that he was facing Harry better. He leaned his elbow on the table and cleared his throat. “I apologize, Potter. That was my fault. I should have realized, but I didn’t. I’m sorry.” 

Harry had no idea what to say to this. Severus Snape had just apologized to him . He slowly nodded his head and pointed to the open container still on the table. “What is that stuff?” 

Snape put the lid back on but left it where it was instead of vanishing it back to his lab.

“It’s a form of the calming draught, though quite a bit more potent in the sense that it doesn’t need to be ingested in order to work. It contains essences of six different herbs that alone have calming properties, but when mixed precisely, they can send off a calming aroma to anyone in a room.”  

Harry looked down at his knees, his cheeks once again flushing with color as he said, “I shouldn’t have said all those things about the Dursleys. They’re all right, really. They just don’t understand magic. They think it’s,” Harry almost said, ‘freakish’, but in the last second said, “odd. They don’t like odd things. And they’ve got Dudley to care for so it sort of scares them, I suppose. They were good to take me in. They didn’t have to and I should be more grateful instead of causing them trouble.” 

Harry had said all of this while staring at the floor and Snape tried hard to keep his face impassive so that his fury didn’t show. Harry’s words sounded so forced. Rehearsed. He was sure that if he asked this boy straight out if his relatives abused him, he would say no. He would just make up another excuse for why their treatment of him was his fault and not their own. So Snape needed to choose his next words carefully. He would have to be far more open with the boy than he was with anyone and it would be hard. He took a deep breath.

“Potter?” Harry glanced up without raising his head, staring up at him through the fringe of his black hair. “It is not alright. There is absolutely no excuse, no reason that you can give me, no trouble that even you could have gotten into, that would justify your relatives hurting you.” Harry raised his head and opened his mouth to speak but Snape held up a hand. “No. None. You do not defend them. Not to me.” Snape took another breath. Tried to steel himself. “And I am well aware that we have got quite a bit to work out between the two of us. My own treatment of you in the past has been...wrong. I allowed my own hurts and anger to cloud how I acted with you. I refused to allow myself to look past something that took place many years ago, something that had nothing to do with you at all. In this, I have been no better to you than your relatives and I am sorry.” 

There, he had said it, and Snape was only slightly surprised to realize that he had meant it. He looked hard at the boy in front of him. He waited for him to say something but he was only gazing back at him with those insufferable green eyes. He wished he knew what he was thinking, but using Legilimency on an unsuspecting child was lower than even Snape wished to stoop. Instead, he asked, “How are you feeling. Honestly?” 

Harry seemed to snap out of whatever daze he had been in and slightly shook his head. 

“Er, tired mostly.” 

Snape nodded. “Understandable. You’ve had a long day, and accidental magic can sometimes be draining. You really should be more in control of your emotions by now so that that doesn’t happen.” Snape stood and pushed his chair under the table.

“I didn’t mean to,” Harry said quickly. “I can’t help it.” 

“Which is why it’s called accidental magic, Potter. If it had been on purpose, you would be having a conversation with the Ministry of Magic, instead of with me.” He raised a hand and crooked a finger in the boy’s direction before heading back into the parlor and down the hall. Harry followed, though slowly.

Snape led Harry back into his room and with a flick of his wand, lit a fire in the fireplace and with another, the blankets on Harry’s new bed turned down. 

“I’m not taking a nap!” Harry suddenly exclaimed from just inside the doorway. 

Snape turned back to him, his eyebrows raised. “You most certainly are. You have had quite the day and it’s only just after lunch. You have even admitted to how exhausted you are.”

“Tired.” Harry interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the man. “I said I was tired, not exhausted. I don’t need a nap. I’m not some little kid.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have thrown that tantrum like one, letting your emotions get away from you to the point that you were dangerously close to shattering my dinnerware.”

 Snape reached over to the contents of Harry’s trunk that still lay scattered about and picked up a pair of pajamas and held them out to him. “You will change and be in this bed in five minutes. Even if you don’t sleep, rest will do you wonders. Afterward, we will be going out and I have no interest in dragging you around London while you are already tired.” 

Harry took the pajamas without thinking but his irritation dissolved into curiosity when he heard that they would be going out. “Why are we going into London?” 

“I have a few errands to run and while I’m out, we may as well get you some decent clothes.” He glared sternly at him, “Now, I won’t ask you again to go change.”

Harry huffed but seeing no way around it, he turned and opened the door to the small bathroom. He laid the pajamas down on the counter and stared at himself in the mirror for a long moment. He really did look tired. He felt it, too. Maybe a rest for a little while would be nice, but he definitely wasn’t about to go to sleep like some toddler. He had way too much to think about. There was no way his mind would be able to shut down and sleep. 

When Harry came back out of the bathroom, he was surprised to see Snape still in his room staring silently into the fireplace. “You don’t have to stay in here. Last I checked I was old enough to put myself to bed.” Harry said sourly, not bothering to hide the irritation he felt.

“Then do so,” Snape said, sending his own glare Harry’s way. Harry wasn’t the only one who was having a long day and Snape could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. 

“Are you planning to tuck me in, too?” Harry asked as he all but stomped over to the bed and laid down on his side, before pulling the blankets up. He found it annoying that it was so cold considering it was now summer. He directed another glare at Snape. The cold was his fault too. If he didn’t live in an actual dungeon. Harry was sure he wouldn’t need the fire or the blankets if he were up in Gryffindor tower where he belonged.

So lost in his thoughts, Harry didn’t notice when Snape walked over to the bed and held out his hand. “Glasses.” He ordered, noticing that Harry hadn’t taken them off. 

“I’m not going to sleep. I need them on to see.” Harry replied, ignoring Snape’s outstretched hand. 

Snape resisted the urge to pull the glasses from Harry’s face. Why was he being so difficult?! “You just told me you were old enough to put yourself to bed. Are you not also old enough to know that laying down with your glasses on could bend the frames, or is it maybe that you wouldn’t mind them sitting crooked on your face?”

Harry rolled his eyes and sat back up. He roughly snatched the glasses off and held them out to Snape. “Here, whatever makes you happy, Snape. It’s not like there’s much to look at anyway.” 

“Professor.” Snape corrected as he calmly folded the glasses and set them on the bedside table. He turned back to face Harry and crossed his arms over his chest as he stared down at him. “Though I’m sure you won’t believe it, I’m being incredibly patient with you, Potter, but I assure you that my patience for this irritating cheek is wearing thin. I’m not sure why you think it is acceptable for you to speak to me like this, but I will not tolerate it any longer.”

“Whatever,” Harry grumbled as he lay back down. 

Snape, having had quite enough, reached down and took the edges of Harry’s blanket in his hand before firmly pulling them up and over his shoulders, tucking them in tightly. 

“Hey!” Harry protested as he began to squirm around trying to get free, but Snape still had his hands on either side of Harry’s shoulders and was glaring down at him. 

“That is quite enough. I had no intentions of tucking you in like a child, Potter, but you were clearly asking for it.” His tone had become as stern as it ever was in the classroom and for once, Harry paid attention. “Now, seeing as how you are obviously in such need of a nap,” Harry opened his mouth but Snape cut him off, “or at the very least a rest, you will stay here in this bed until I come to get you. And for your sake, Potter, I hope you wake up in a better mood or you may find yourself standing in a corner somewhere until you can control yourself.” 

Harry looked up at him with wide eyes but made no move to continue to get up. Snape seemed to accept this and stood before using his wand to turn off the lights, enveloping the room in darkness except for the glowing fire. 

Harry watched him head for the door but before his hand closed around the handle, he spoke again, turning his head just slightly to see him over his shoulder, “This is also something you won’t believe, Potter,” he said, his voice more gentle than Harry had ever heard it, “but I do want this arrangement to work out. It will be an exceptionally long summer if it doesn’t, but I’m willing to try harder if you are.” He didn’t wait for Harry to answer. He grasped the handle and pulled open the door, a second later he was walking out of the room and closing the door softly behind him.

Chapter Text

Snape dropped himself heavily into his armchair, groaning as he used his thumb and index finger to pinch the bridge of his nose, his headache growing worse. Today was certainly going about as well as he had expected that it would. Barely a few hours into this new guardianship of Potter and he had already dealt with a tantrum and threatened the boy with punishment.

Snape scoffed. Standing in a corner! Where had that come from anyway? Potter was nearly thirteen. Wasn’t that too old for such things? Granted, that had been something Dumbledore had made Snape do until he was well into his teens, arguing that sometimes it was needed to give a child ample opportunity to think and correct his behavior. Snape clearly remembered hating it, but admittedly it had always had the desired effect of forcing him to really consider what had landed him there in the first place. He was sure that Potter would detest it as well. Of course, Snape reasoned with himself, there was always the chance that Potter would wake up in a much better mood and nothing would be necessary in the first place. 

He shook his head as he stood back up to go into his lab to fetch a headache potion. Even if it were true and Potter woke up well-rested and in a positively giddy mood, it wouldn’t change the fact that eventually, the insufferable brat would find some way to land himself in trouble, and when that time came, Snape would need to have some idea how to handle it. 

Snape stopped outside the boy’s bedroom and hesitated a moment before opening it and poking his head inside. Harry was asleep, curled up on his right side, his back facing the wall, one hand tucked under the pillow. Snape rolled his eyes. So much for not needing a nap. It had only been about ten minutes since he’d left the boy who had been so insistent that he wasn’t going to sleep. He was just about to back away and close the door when he remembered the glamour charm that Harry had managed to place on himself. 

He pulled his wand from an inside pocket of his robes and pointed it at Harry, silently saying the charm that would reveal what lay underneath. However, once he had done so, he immediately wished he hadn’t. Snape felt sick looking at the molten bruises that covered much of the left side of his face. His lip had been busted open and though most of the bruises were dark purple and blue, suggesting they weren’t very old, as Snape walked fully into the room and got a closer look, he could see more yellowish-colored ones that were older. On the side, just below his temple, Snape could clearly make out what he knew from experience was the imprint of a closed fist. How many times had this boy been hit?! It was evident that he had barely begun to heal from one beating before he had been subjected to another, the latest likely from the bout of accidental magic that had resulted in him blowing up his aunt. 

Snape sighed. There was no way that he could allow Potter to walk around with these and not get them healed. He would need to see Madam Pomfrey. He could have a concussion and not even be aware of it. And to do that, Snape would have to tell him that he knew and he could only imagine how well that would go over with the boy. Having dealt with something similar in his own youth, Snape knew that the last thing Harry would want is for people to have proof of what was happening to him. If someone only suspected, one could lie and lie again, but once they had real, concrete proof in front of them, there was usually no denying it. There was simply no way that Harry could excuse this as anything other than abuse. 

Snape raised his wand and set the glamour back in place. He wouldn’t let Harry wake up and be unaware that it was gone. He would let him keep his dignity, though he would need to figure out a way to talk to him about it without him realizing that he had already seen it. 

He left the room quietly and continued on his way to his lab. Once inside, he went straight to his store cabinet and wrenched it open in frustration, causing a few vials of potions to topple over. Luckily they didn’t break and Severus set them back up and returned the calming potion to its place on the top shelf before picking up the headache reliever and closing the cabinet back. Less forcefully this time. 

Snape drank the potion down and placed the now-empty vial on his work table. He walked around to a cauldron that was simmering over low heat. He stirred the dark blue potion clockwise seven times before he reached over and picked up the bottle of aconite and dropped its contents inside. Immediately the potion began to give off a faint, blue smoke. Nodding to himself, Snape left it to simmer for a little while more before he would stock it.  

Already the headache potion was beginning to take effect and Snape could feel the pressure and tension leaving his head as he walked around his lab, tidying up a bit here and there before moving over to the desk on the far wall and sitting down in his favorite, black leather chair behind it. 

Snape groaned as he glanced over the papers littering the desk. A few order forms for ingredients he needed from the apothecary, the last of the fourth year essays that still needed to be graded, and a stack of notes he had been making on various potions experiments he had been planning on working on.  He had just wanted a quiet summer before the start of another dreadful school year teaching dunderheaded students. Taking in the blasted brat who lived hadn’t been in the plan, but of course, he had to ruin that as well. And where did that leave Snape? Sitting here thinking about the boy while he slept soundly in his room down the hall. 

No! Snape exclaimed to himself. It was not his room. He was just borrowing it for the Summer. Once school started, or perhaps even before then if Dumbledore found some other unsuspecting fool to take him in, Potter would be out of his hair and someone else’s problem. Until then, Snape would take this one day at a time. One issue at a time. 

First, though he was loath to admit it, Snape had a responsibility to see to it that Potter was safe and unharmed while here. And that meant getting him checked out by Madam Pomfrey to ensure that he wasn’t suffering or hiding any more injuries.

Snape could have smacked himself. Of course! That was how he would ‘find out’ about the bruises on Potter’s face. He would simply let Madam Pomfrey find them herself. He would come up with a reason that Potter would need to visit the Mediwitch for an exam. Maybe he is behind for a physical and Snape wouldn’t be doing his job as guardian if he didn’t insist that he have it done. Potter would likely fight him every step of the way but Snape could play that game. Potter would come willingly or else Snape would body bind the brat and levitate him all the way to the hospital wing. 

Snape smiled at the mental picture of walking behind a floating Potter who could do nothing but glare back at him as they made their way down the halls, ignoring anyone who happened to see them. Minerva would be furious of course at the very idea of one of her precious lions in such a position, but Snape didn’t care. It would be worth it. 

He pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill and penned a note to Madam Pomfrey before calling out to Jenka once more. The small elf popped in and Snape held out the note. “Jenka, please deliver this to Madam Pomfrey for me and come back with her reply.” 

Jenka bowed and replied, “Yes, Master Snape. Jenka will come right back.” Then, with a snap of her fingers, she disappeared. 

Snape turned his attention to the essays and began grading them. He scowled as he crossed out misspelled words and made comments on the pages. Honestly, did they even try to compose an acceptable essay?

Harry had been awake for the last ten minutes, though he hadn’t gotten out of bed. Not because Snape had told him not to, but just because the new bed was rather comfortable and he couldn’t bring himself to leave the soft mattress or warm blankets. Instead, he stared up at the high ceiling and listened for any noise outside his room. There was nothing though. Not the slightest sound that would suggest Snape was even still here. 

But just as he was about to throw off the covers and sit up, the bedroom door opened and Snape stood just inside the doorway. Instead of his long, billowing black robes, however, Snape wore black trousers and a crisp, white, button-down shirt. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows revealing tan forearms. Harry wondered fleetingly how he had a tan considering he had never seen him in anything but his long robes but the thought was quickly replaced when Snape came further into the room.

“Will wonders never cease? Harry Potter actually following the rules?” He said in a mock, shocked tone. “I’m surprised, Potter. I was sure you would be up, snooping through my quarters the minute my back was turned.” Harry glared up at Snape, though he said nothing. “Very well then, get dressed and we’ll be on our way.” 

Snape left and Harry got up and went to his trunk to pull out something to wear. Before he could, however, a grey shirt and black trousers appeared, folded neatly, on top of it. Harry held them up and realized that they weren’t his but they would fit him perfectly. Harry didn’t want to think about the possibility that Snape would shrink something of his for Harry to wear, so instead he mutely put them on, telling himself the entire time that they had to have come from somewhere else. Maybe a house-elf found them in Hogwarts lost and found? “Yeah,” he thought, “that’s got to be it.”  

As he came into the parlor, Snape stood up from his armchair and nodded once in Harry’s direction and said, “Come along, then,” before striding over to the front door and opening it, waiting for Harry to follow after him. 

Harry followed Snape silently back through the corridors until they reached the Entrance Hall where he walked straight out the front doors of the castle. Harry’s strides being shorter than Snape’s, felt as though he were jogging to keep up with the man as he walked down towards the Hogwarts gates. 

“Professor?” Harry asked in confusion. Snape grunted in reply. “How are we getting to London?”

“Disapparition,” Snape answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“What’s disapparition?” 

Snape stopped in front of the great iron gates and took out his wand before muttering a spell to open them. Then he turned to Harry and motioned for him to walk ahead of him. “It’s a form of wizard transportation that allows a wizard to disappear from one place and reappear in another. You have to be of age to do it yourself but adult wizards can use side-along apparition when they need to travel with children.” Harry wanted to point out that he wasn’t a child but instead he just continued to follow Snape for a few minutes longer until he halted at the edge of the grounds. “Alright, Potter. Come here.” 

Harry took a tentative step forward and stiffened when Snape put his arm around his shoulders, bringing him snug against his professor’s side. Then, without a second's hesitation, he felt Snape turn on the spot and suddenly, he was being pulled as if a rope had been tied around his navel. The next thing Harry knew, his knees hit the ground of an alleyway and he felt as though he were going to sick up. Snape stood beside him looking just as put together as he had before they left. “Do get up, Potter. The street is no place for you to sit.” He said snidely. 

Harry glared up at him but pulled himself from off the ground and stood on shaking legs.

“You could have warned me!” He snapped, but Snape merely shot him the same sneering look he seemed to reserve especially for Harry.

“And miss your graceful landing? Not a chance, Potter. Now, let’s go. We don’t have all day.”

As they walked out of the alleyway, Harry glanced around at all the shops and buildings. They were near the train station but Snape wasn’t heading in that direction. Instead, he was moving towards a group of storefront buildings that lined the opposite side of the street. There were several clothing stores, a few restaurants, a shoe store, a toy store, a salon, and a cinema. 

Harry had been to shopping plazas before with Aunt Petunia, but that was only when she couldn’t leave him with Mrs. Figg, and then he was never allowed to get anything. He was made to stand quietly next to the cart and not ask for anything while she filled it up with what she needed and what Dudley wanted. Harry wasn’t looking forward to being here now, though he didn’t say anything. He just wanted to get it over with. 

When they made it to the door of the first shop, Snape opened it and stood aside so Harry could enter, but before he went in, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out his money bag. It didn’t have much in it, only a few galleons, about five sickles, and a couple of knuts, but Harry figured he could get Snape to take him to Gringotts so he could get more to cover whatever he owed him. 

“What is that?” Snape asked as he looked down at him, his eyebrows creased. 

“It’s my money.” Then a thought occurred to him. “But wait, I don’t have any muggle money.” He said quietly, glancing around to make sure he hadn’t been overheard. “Can you exchange it somewhere?” 

Snape continued to stare at the boy as if he were saying something completely outrageous. “No, Potter, I can not change it here.”

“Oh.” Harry dropped his hand and studied the ground. “Sorry, it’s all I have.”

“And you will keep it.” Snape said pointedly, “Put it away. It’s not your job to pay for things you need, Potter. I will take care of anything you should require. Now let’s go.” 

Snape strode inside the shop and Harry had no choice but to follow him, his eyes trained firmly on the ground in front of him. When he looked back up, he stopped once more in his tracks, the sight of Severus Snape, feared Potions Master and bat of the dungeons, pushing a shopping trolley towards the boy’s section of clothing was almost too much for Harry to bear. He stifled a laugh and hurried to catch back up. 

Straight to the point as always, Snape was pulling several shirts and pairs of jeans off the shelves and wordlessly handing them to Harry. Once he had a few different sizes, he said, “Right. Now, go try these on and let’s see you in them.” 

Harry’s eyes widened. “I’m not planning on modeling them.” He retorted even as a flush rose in his cheeks.

“You are going to try these on, Potter, so we can make sure they fit properly.” 

“But I-” Snape narrowed his eyes and pointed towards the dressing rooms. 

“Go.” He said sternly. Harry went. 

An hour later, they emerged from the shop with more clothes than Harry had ever had in his life. Snape made sure he had everything. Jeans, slacks, t-shirts, button-downs, pajamas, a couple of jumpers, a jacket, coat, scarf and hat, two new pairs of trainers and a pair of dress shoes. Even, much to Harry’s utter embarrassment, new socks, and underwear. There seemed to be nothing that Snape had forgotten and Harry felt sure that it was all entirely too much. He had tried to make Snape understand that he didn’t need this many clothes but the man had simply rolled his eyes and handed him more things to try on, so Harry had dropped it altogether. 

Now, squinting out into the bright sunlight, Harry hoped they were done and would be heading back to the castle. However, when Snape turned left towards another crowded street, he knew that would not be the case. With a sigh, he followed Snape along, his arms laden down with their shopping bags until they came to a corner and Snape turned down another alleyway. Harry almost didn’t recognize this side of the Leaky Cauldron, having only arrived last night on the Knight Bus, the muggle side of the pub looked quite different in daylight. 

“Come along, Potter.” Snape chided as he opened the door and walked inside. Once more, Harry followed him. Tom was standing behind the counter and he nodded their way in greeting but didn’t say anything else as Snape walked straight through and out the back to the brick entrance to Diagon Alley. 

Snape turned towards Harry and with a flick of his wand, the packages in Harry’s hands shrunk down to pocket size. Harry smiled before he could stop himself. He loved magic. Snape took them and stowed them away into the inside pockets of his robes before he turned a menacing glare at his new charge.

“You will stay with me.” He ordered in that low growl that would make any first-year run for the hills. Harry nodded. “I’m going to put a spell on you that will change your appearance while we’re here. I don’t want to deal with trivial questions about why our great hero is here with me. Is that understood?” Harry glared back but nodded again. “I mean it, Potter, if I turn around and you’re not by my side, you will be one sorry little boy when I find you. So one more time, am I clear?” 

“Perfectly, sir,” Harry answered in an overly sweet voice. Snape looked as if he would like to say something else but he refrained, instead he rapt Harry sharply over the head with his wand and Harry felt something warm rolling down his face. 

He glanced around and saw a broken piece of mirror on the ground. Harry picked it up and stared at his reflection. He worried that the spell would undo his disillusionment charm but so far it still seemed intact. His hair had grown out a little more and straightened, falling into his eyes a bit. Green eyes were now brown and his scar was gone. His nose lengthened slightly and he began to squint, obviously not needing his glasses now. He took them off and realized he could see better though he felt odd not having them on. 

“If you’re quite through,” Snape said coldly and resumed his glaring as he dropped the broken shard of the mirror back to the ground and turned to face the wall. Snape tapped the bricks with his wand and the entrance opened up to them. 

Snape’s errands had been boring. He’d taken Harry to Madam Malkin’s to get new school robes first but once that was finished, he led Harry into several different shops that Harry would not have gone into if given the choice. Not because they weren’t interesting, but because in Harry’s personal opinion, his time could have been much better spent the way he had originally had planned, eating ice cream at Florean Fortescue’s and daydreaming in front of the Firebolt. Snape dropped off several order forms for potion ingredients at the apothecary, picked up a package from the owl post office, and bought a rather large book from one of the bookstores. 

When the owner of the apothecary asked Snape who Harry was, he had been furious to hear Snape say that he was his nephew, Henry and that he had been sent to stay with him because he had become a troublemaker and Snape’s sister was hoping that Severus could straighten him out. The man grinned broadly and said, “Well, if you can’t, I doubt anyone can, Professor.”  

Harry seethed as he glared daggers into the floor at Snape’s side. 

“I plan to do my very best,” Snape replied to the man. “But this one’s got quite the track record. I intend to keep an eye on his every move this summer.” He turned to give Harry a scowl for good measure but Harry didn’t look up from the floor. He hadn’t even actually done anything wrong and yet he could feel his face heating up. 

Snape finished his business and they both turned to go, but before they reached the door, the man called after them with a chuckle. “You mind your uncle now, young man.”

Harry opened his mouth to say something but Snape gave him a less than gentle shove on through the door and they were out. 

“You didn’t have to tell him that!” Harry snapped as they began to walk. 

“What would you have had me tell him then?” Snape retorted as he grabbed hold of Harry’s elbow and steered him towards the end of the street. He felt the boy flinch slightly but made no comment. “What reason would I have for walking around Diagon Alley with a teenager over the Summer?” 

“You could have said I was your nephew and left it at that. I could have just been visiting.” 

“Do you know any child who would visit me of their own free will?” 

“Malfoy.” Harry shot back, but Snape refused to keep the argument going. He stopped Harry on the corner and said, “We’re apparating back to the gates. Hold still.” Then with no further warning, they disappeared. 

Chapter Text

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon before dinner unpacking his trunk and putting away all his new clothes. They were, admittedly, really nice clothes and he was thankful for them. He just didn’t want to owe Snape for anything. He would need to keep a count of everything Snape had given him so that he could pay him back the next time he was able to get to Gringotts. He would not be in debt to Snape. 

Once he had finished putting away the clothes and his few possessions, Harry sat down on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do next. Snape hadn’t said he had to stay in his room, but he hadn’t actually said he could come out before dinner either. He wished he would have just told him what he wanted him to do. This summer was going to be really long if he didn’t figure out how to be around Snape without getting into trouble. 

Harry thought back to earlier that day when he was being forced to take a nap. Snape hadn’t even been his guardian for more than a few hours before Harry had already given him reason to yell at him and threaten him with punishment. Granted, it was a little kid's punishment, but that didn’t mean anything to Harry. He had learned the hard way that just because an adult threatens you with one punishment, it doesn’t mean that’s what you’ll get. Uncle Vernon’s favorite game was telling Harry that he wasn’t in trouble, only to catch him off guard later and beat him senseless before locking him in his cupboard or, since coming to Hogwarts, in his bedroom. 

Biting his lip, Harry finally stood and walked over to the door before opening it a crack and peering out. He didn’t see or hear anything that suggested Snape was even around. Maybe he had gone out without telling him? Harry quietly slipped out into the hallway and walked towards the parlor, stopping to glance around the corner. 

Snape was sitting in the same armchair as earlier, with a copy of the Daily Prophet open in front of him, hiding his face from Harry’s view. Harry stepped back. He didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of hanging out with Snape, but he didn’t want to be stuck in his bedroom either. He’d had enough of that. Before he could decide though, Snape began to speak in his slow, dry tone from behind the paper.

“Potter, stop lingering in the hallway. Either come sit down or I will find something for you to do to occupy your time until dinner.” 

How did he know I was here? He thought, before stepping out into the parlor. “With options like those, how will I ever choose?” He muttered sarcastically under his breath. 

Snape had heard him though and lowered the paper and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Of course if you’d rather, you can always go back to your room,” Snape said cooly. 

Harry scowled at him but said nothing as he sat down on the couch and Snape raised the paper back up to read some more. Harry felt just as bored sitting here as he had in his room but he contented himself with looking at the front page of Snape’s paper, where the moving picture of Sirius Black silently screamed out at him.

 He had heard about him on the muggle news and then saw his picture on posters in Diagon Alley, but he didn’t know anything about him. Suddenly, the question burst out of him before he could stop it. “Sirius Black escaped prison?” 

Snape’s hand stilled in the middle of turning the page. He didn’t lower the paper but he answered shortly. “Yes.” 

“How?”

Again, Snape answered from behind the paper. “Noone knows. It’s never happened before.” 

“He must be a pretty powerful wizard then, if he’s the first to do it,” Harry murmured. “What did he do to get chucked in there in the first place? Was he a follower of Voldemort or something?” 

“Do not speak his name in my presence!” Snape snapped, finally dropping the paper to glare at the boy.

“Dumbledore says-” 

“I do not care. You will not speak it here.” 

“I’m not afraid,” Harry muttered defiantly as he looked back at Snape who narrowed his eyes and held up his paper once more. 

A few seconds later, Snape waved his wand towards the bookshelf and a small, leather-bound book floated down in front of Harry, who plucked it from the air. “There, read that and keep quiet for a while.” Snape hissed.

Harry looked down at the cover and read the title. “The Adventures of Captain Felix the Feared” He rolled his eyes and briefly wondered why Snape had a book like this in his rooms but opened it to the first page anyway. There in the bottom right-hand corner, were the initials, STS. The next thing he knew, Harry was engrossed in the tales of the Pirate King. 

Snape looked over his paper to see the boy completely mesmerized by the book. The silence was blissful. He smirked. This must be what Albus had felt like when he’d given the book to him all those years ago.

September 8th, 1974

Severus sat up in the hospital bed with his arms folded over his chest and a scowl on his face. He had been forced to stay here ever since he’d passed out the day before in class and he was getting quite restless. He felt loads better than he had when he’d first arrived and he didn’t see why he couldn’t go back to his dormitory. Yet every time he made to leave the bed, Madam Pomphrey caught him before he could get to the door of the infirmary. The last time, she’d charmed the bed to keep him there and floo called the headmaster who was now in her office with her. 

Severus thought back to the day before when both the headmaster and Professor Slughorn had questioned him in the hospital wing about the injuries he had been hiding. Severus knew they didn’t believe his story about falling down a flight of stairs. They hadn’t even pretended to. Madam Pomphrey had given them enough evidence to the contrary and Severus didn’t know what to do next. He only hoped that Professor Dumbledore wasn’t going to visit his home at Spinner’s End. The last thing he needed was for someone to go poking around and asking his father questions. Severus had no doubt that if that happened, he wouldn’t make it through the front door come summer before he was becoming reacquainted with Tobias Snape’s heavy, leather belt. 

Severus shuddered. Before he could dwell on it more, the office door opened and Professor Dumbledore appeared. He was walking towards Severus with an unreadable expression on his face. The twinkle in his eye was still there, but just barely. 

“Severus, Madam Pomfrey has just been informing me that you have been quite disagreeable with her today. Surely she is mistaken?” 

Severus dropped his gaze to the white bedspread. “I feel fine. I have classes to go to and I don’t need to miss anything.” 

“As I understand it, Madam Pomfrey had to do extensive healing charms and you had to take several potions to get you to the place you are now. Overexertion at this time will only undo all her hard work. I know that you don’t wish for her to have done all of that in vain.”

“I didn’t need her to. I was handling it on my own.” Severus snapped as he finally looked back up to the headmaster. 

Dumbledore met his gaze unwaveringly and finally, Severus sighed and looked away, choosing this time to direct his glare towards the opposite side of the wing, away from the headmaster. 

“You need rest and that is exactly what you shall do. You will stay here, in this bed, until Madam Pomfrey clears you. She knows exactly what she is doing as this is her area of expertise, not yours or mine, and you will respect her enough to do as she says.” Dumbledore’s words weren’t harshly spoken, they weren’t even particularly stern, yet Severus felt as though he were being scolded all the same. 

“I could rest in my dormitory.” He offered weakly. 

Dumbledore smiled before moving to take a seat at the end of the bed and turning towards Severus, who had moved his legs over to offer more room for the older man. “Ah, I’m sure you would begin with the best of intentions, my boy, however, you and I both know that you would not succeed in this.” 

Severus rolled his eyes but did not continue to argue his case. He knew the headmaster was right. Likely, if he was given half the chance, he would at the very least be out in the common room trying to catch up on homework. 

Finally, he raised his dark eyes to meet the shining blue of Dumbledore’s and asked, “How long do I have to stay here? There’s nothing to do but lay here.”

Dumbledore smiled again and patted the teenager's knee. “Madam Pomfrey says at the most, another day or so. You can handle that long. I’m sure that your friends are planning to come to visit soon and they will, of course, bring your school books and any missed work, so you shouldn’t worry about that. In the meantime,” Dumbledore reached into an inside pocket of his lavender robes and pulled out a book. He looked down at the cover before holding it out to Severus, who took it warily. “This should be an interesting enough read to keep your attention at least for a while. Pirates, you know, are always full of adventure.” 

Severus held the book in his lap. He couldn’t imagine himself reading it, but it would solve nothing to refuse it. 

“I shall endeavor to check up on you later, Mr. Snape, but I do require your word that you will not give Madam Pomfrey any more of a hard time during your stay here.” 

Severus sighed heavily but nodded. “Yes, sir.” 

“Very good,” said Dumbledore as he stood to leave.

“Professor,” Severus spoke up quickly before he could get away. “Have you…? I mean, are you going to…?” He wasn’t sure how to phrase his questions, but he needed to know what was going to happen to him. Was Dumbledore planning to ignore the fact that he had been beaten? Severus hoped so but he knew that it was more than likely not going to happen. He’d seen the anger cloud the older man’s face the day before. Dumbledore wasn’t going to just let this go.

Dumbledore turned back to Severus, who had resumed his inspection of the book in an attempt to keep from looking up at him. He spoke his next words so softly that Severus had to strain to hear them. “It’s being dealt with. You have nothing to fear, my child. Never again. You are safe here.” 

Severus didn’t believe him then, but he would soon enough.

The clink of their dinner plates appearing on the kitchen table brought Snape from his memories and he sat his newspaper on the end table next to his chair before he stood up.  

Harry glanced up from his book and after marking his page, he followed Snape into the kitchen.  

The table was set and filled with roast pork, green beans, mashed potatoes, and rolls. Pumpkin juice was once again beside Harry’s plate while Snape was drinking water. Harry’s mouth watered at the sight. Even after only being at the Dursleys for a fortnight, the small rations he was given there had left him feeling uncomfortably hungry almost constantly. He hadn’t as of yet had a chance to sneak any food while he had been there, and he hadn’t gotten far enough into the dinner with Aunt Marge to have any of it. 

The chicken sandwiches he’d had for lunch was the best meal Harry had had all summer and he was already worried that it wouldn’t last. Snape hadn’t said anything about withholding food as punishment, but Harry didn’t want to take any chances. He decided that as soon as Snape wasn’t looking, he would nick a few rolls and hide them in his room just in case.

Once they sat down, Harry began eating with gusto. Everything at Hogwarts always tasted so much better, and the same seemed to be true for whatever he ate in Snape’s quarters as well. He hadn’t even realized that he had been eating so fast until Snape’s sharp tone broke the silence.

“Do stop eating like a troll, Mr. Potter. I assure you, the food is not going anywhere.” 

Harry could feel himself blush, but he didn’t look up. Instead, he muttered, “Sorry,” and forced himself to sit up straight and take slower, smaller bites. 

Snape didn’t acknowledge his apology but instead turned his attention back to his own food. For a moment, the only sounds were the scraping of their forks against plates until Snape cleared his throat and spoke without looking up. “I’ll be having tea in a bit. You’re welcome to join me if you like, however, Professor Dumbledore will be arriving later and as we have a great deal to discuss, I’ll ask you to stay in your room while he’s here. I assume you can entertain yourself for at least a little while without getting into too much trouble?” 

Harry looked up from his half-empty plate. He was fairly certain that all within the space of a few sentences, Snape had invited him to tea, asked him to give him and the headmaster space, and still managed to get in an insult in the end. Harry shook his head. “Er, sure. But can I just go visit Hagrid instead?” 

Snape speared a green bean and answered, “May you, and no, you may not. It’s already getting late and I don’t want you wandering the castle or the grounds after dark.” 

Harry’s eyes widened. “But it won’t be dark for hours.”

“I said no, Potter. And aside from that, I’ve already told you that after dinner you will stay inside these rooms.” 

“But that’s-”

“The rules.” Snape interrupted, finishing the sentence as if that were exactly what Harry was about to say. “Yes, it is and you will abide by them.” He pointed towards Harry’s plate with his fork. “Eat,” he ordered sternly. 

Harry glowered at the older man for a moment before dropping his gaze back down to the table. “I’ve visited with Hagrid loads of times after dark and no one cared before.” He grumbled. 

Snape let his fork drop down to rest on his plate, a piece of roast still speared on the tip, as he turned his full attention to the boy on his right. “Be that as it may, you are my ward now and I can assure you that I will care if you put one toe outside these quarters after I’ve told you not to. After tea, or before if you decide that you would rather not have any, you will go on to your room. You can read, work on homework, stare at the wall for all I care, but you will stay in there while the Headmaster is here. And, Potter, Merlin help you if you decide to eavesdrop on our private conversation. The consequences will be most unpleasant. I know that is one of your favorite pastimes, but it will not be happening here.” 

Harry felt his face heating up but he merely nodded and after another moment, Snape went back to his food. Harry only pushed the last remainder of his around with his fork. 

“Stop sulking and finish your food.” Snape admonished.

“I’m not sulking.” Harry replied, “I’m finished.” 

“Very well.” Their dinner vanished from the table and Snape stood up. “Jenka?” He called.

Immediately the small house-elf popped in. “Master Snape called for Jenka?” 

Snape nodded. He motioned towards Harry. “Jenka, this is Harry Potter. Mr. Potter, this is Jenka. She takes care of almost everything we need, but if you require something, you may ask her for it. She already knows what I will and will not permit you to have so don’t even think about asking her for extra sweets. And I had better not hear of you mistreating her. She is not here just so that you can laze about and order her around like an arrogant, spoiled brat.” Snape lectured sternly.

Harry snapped his head up and glared at his professor. “I wouldn’t do that!” He spat. “My friend Dobby is a house-elf. Or he was. He’s free now.” 

Jenka’s eyes widened to the size of saucers as she gasped, before covering her mouth with her small hands and frantically shaking her head. Snape raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, kindly refrain from setting her free. I’m a far sight fairer than Mr. Malfoy was to Dobby, and aside from that, though Jenka is the only elf I ever call upon, she is actually a Hogwarts elf, so if you can’t trust that I treat her fairly, trust that the Headmaster does.”

At this, Jenka began nodding in earnest. “Master Snape is being very fair to Jenka. Very, very fair. But Jenka is seeing Master Harry Potter in school, sir, and she is knowing that he is a very good boy. Just like Master Snape was when he was in school. Master Harry Potter is being kind and Jenka is happy to be serving him and Master Snape.” 

Harry gave a small smile and said, “Just Harry is fine. It’s nice to meet you, Jenka.” 

Jenka bowed low. “Anything that Master Harry Potter is needing, just call for Jenka. Jenka will hear him.” 

Snape rolled his eyes and said, “Yes, yes, will you get us some tea, please, Jenka?” 

Jenka turned to Snape and said, “Of course, Master Snape.” Then with a snap of her fingers, a mismatched tea set appeared on the end table between the two leather chairs. 

“Thank you, Jenka,” Snape replied as Jenka bowed low once more and disappeared. 

“She’s nice,” Harry said quietly as he followed Snape over to the chairs. Snape seated himself in the same one he had been in earlier and Harry took the other one. 

“Indeed.” He replied as he handed Harry a black teacup that had a red outline on the rim and handle and gestured for Harry to fix it how he liked. Snape poured himself a cup of black tea in a matching teacup, but his had a green outline. Harry almost snorted but stopped himself just in time. Of course, Snape would have a black tea set. 

After pouring cream and three scoops of sugar in his tea, they both settled into their chairs, content in the silence. Harry was still thinking about their conversation at the table and he wondered what the consequences were that Snape had mentioned. He had only said that they would be unpleasant, and that definitely didn’t sound good to Harry. 

Harry had had far too much experience with unpleasant and he really didn’t want to add to it. He wished Snape would have just told him so that he didn’t have to try and figure it out himself. Yeah, right, he thought, as if he’s going to just tell you what he would do to you. Even if he did, it’s not as if he would tell the truth anyway. Hadn’t Uncle Vernon proven that over and over again? Adults are going to do what they want and there’s nothing you can do about it. They’re bigger and stronger than you, so you may as well just take it and hope it’s over quickly. 

“What is it, Mr. Potter?” Snape’s sharp tone brought Harry out of his inner monologue.

“It’s nothing, sir,” Harry replied quickly, averting his gaze to the dark, hardwood floor beneath his feet.

“It’s obviously something considering the way you’re fidgeting like a child in a candy store who’s been told not to touch anything.” 

Harry noticed the way his right leg was shaking up and down and how he was tapping the handle of his teacup with his thumbnail over and over. He immediately stilled himself.

“Out with it, Potter,” Snape ordered.

Harry’s green eyes met Snape’s obsidian ones for half a moment before he looked away again. “I just… I wondered if you could tell me-” Harry sighed and swallowed hard in an attempt to soothe his suddenly dry throat. “I wondered what the consequences are.” He finally said in a quiet rush of words that Snape almost didn’t make out. 

Once he understood, he nodded, kicking himself for not being clear earlier. 

Snape cleared his throat and put down his teacup before angling himself so that he was better facing the boy. He opened his mouth to start speaking but stopped himself when he didn’t immediately have the right words. Finally, he answered, his voice much softer than it had been previously. 

“Though I’m sure you won’t believe me,” he said slowly, “I actually think that any punishments should fit the crime, to borrow a muggle term. If you misbehave and break the rules, depending on the severity of what you’ve done or if this is a first or repeated offense, you might get a punishment much like detention. I may have you write lines or set an essay. There’s always a chance of extra chores or maybe getting sent to your room or going to bed early. You may also lose privileges like flying or be put on restriction.” Snape paused here as he noticed Harry’s eyebrows crinkling. “Do you know what restriction is, Potter?” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m going to go ahead and guess that it’s being restricted, Professor.” 

Snape raised an eyebrow. “Watch your cheek, Potter,” but there was only mild sternness in his tone.

Harry huffed. He didn’t like this at all and he almost wished he hadn’t asked in the first place. “Ron said once that Fred and George got grounded for turning Percy’s hair purple and refusing to turn it back. He said they had to stay in their room for two days. I suppose it’s like that?” 

Snape nodded. “Correct. Though not always. Having you stay in your room would only be for something really serious. Mostly you would just not be permitted to leave our quarters unless you were with me or for classes.” 

“I can handle that then,” Harry said determinedly. “I’ve been locked in my room for way longer than that before.” Then, seeming to realize what he said, Harry blushed scarlet and looked away. 

“No, Mr. Potter, you will never be locked inside. Not ever.”  Harry chanced a glance back up but didn’t say anything so Snape went on. “Just as I will never hit or beat you. You will never be denied food or a comfortable place to sleep. Those are not punishments, Mr. Potter.”

“I know that.” Harry snapped. He reached a hand up to scratch the back of his neck and Snape nodded.

“Good. Is there anything else you wish to know?” 

At this, Harry blushed once more. “Um, well, what you said earlier, you know, about the corner? Did you mean that?” 

Snape’s lip almost quirked up in a grin. Almost. Of course, Potter would take most issue with the idea of standing in the corner, He thought. 

“Yes.” He said simply.

Harry’s head shot up. “But...but that’s for children.”

“Ah, but you are a child.” 

“I am not!” Harry snapped. “I’m almost thirteen!” 

“Oh, good, you can count,” Snape said drily. 

“I’m not standing in a bloody corner, Snape. I won’t do it.” 

Snape’s eyes hardened and Harry wisely grew quiet. “Mr. Potter, you would do well to understand this now, you are not an adult. I am. And as such, I make the rules and likewise I decide the consequences. If standing in a corner is what is needed to calm that temper of yours or to curb an unruly attitude, rest assured, you will do it. And while we’re on the subject of your attitude, bear in mind that I will not tolerate foul language either. However, if you insist on using such language, I will insist on using scourgify on your mouth. We’ll see if the taste of soap can’t wash those words out for you.” 

Harry glared angrily but made no comment. Snape glared right back until finally, Harry broke eye contact and turned his glare to his knees just as there came a knock at the door. Harry didn’t look up but Snape stood from his chair and said, “Go on.”

Harry stood up but he didn’t leave the parlor. Instead, he crossed his arms and said, “I don’t see why I have to go. I know you’re going to be talking about me. I should get to be here for that.”

Snape shook his head. “No, Potter, I’m not having this conversation with you again.”

“It wasn’t a conversation. You just decided and didn’t even ask me.”

“That’s because it’s not up to you. I mean it, Potter. To your room. Now.”

The hard, unrelenting look on Snape’s face had Harry finally turning away with a huff and stomping towards his room. 

Snape nodded and went to the door to open it for the headmaster, but just as Albus was about to say hello, Snape heard Harry’s door slam. He whipped his head around in the direction of the boy’s room, ignoring the chuckle from behind him as Albus let himself in. 

“I haven’t heard slamming doors in quite a few years.” 

“And you won’t hear them anymore, either,” Snape growled as he left Professor Dumbledore standing in the parlor, swiftly making his way to Harry’s room. 

Snape opened Harry’s door without knocking and saw Harry leaning against the far wall. His arms were crossed over his chest and his jaw was set as he glared down at the floor, the very picture of defiance. Though Snape didn’t miss the slight tremor that passed through the boy as he came in. He walked towards Harry but stopped about five feet away. He didn’t want him to feel as if he were boxed in. Scaring the boy wouldn’t help anything. 

“The next time you slam a door in this house,” Snape said in his usual cold, quiet tone, “you better be prepared to lose it. This is your final warning, Potter. Stay in here until I say otherwise. You can come back out afterward if you want, but until then, find something to occupy your time.” 

Harry gave a curt nod. “Yes, sir.” 

Snape nodded and turned to leave. “And no eavesdropping.” He ordered as he strode out the door, shutting it quietly behind him as if showing Harry how it was to be done. Even though he was still in his slacks and button-down, it seemed as if his clothes still gave the effect of billowing behind him ominously. 

Harry flung himself on his bed. “Way to go, Harry, you made him mad on the first day.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

Severus strode back into the parlor and dropped himself heavily into his chair and sighed. Dumbledore had already settled into the chair that Harry had vacated, a definite smile on his face and the ever-present twinkle in his eye. 

“He seems to be settling in nicely.” Albus said cheerfully.

Snape shot him his best glare but Albus’s smile only grew wider. 

“It’s been…” Snape pinched the bridge of his nose to try and stave off the beginnings of another headache. Honestly, at this rate, he would need to brew at least one batch of the pain relieving potion a week if he was going to be expected to house the brat all summer. “He’s had a long day.” 

“It appears as though he’s not the only one.” Dumbledore mused as he helped himself to a cup of tea and refilled Snape’s as well. “Aside from slamming doors, how has it been?”

Snape took the proffered teacup but didn’t drink any. “He’s wearing a glamour over his face,” he said quietly. 

Dumbledore nodded. “I thought I saw that earlier. Have you spoken to him about it?”

“No,” Snape answered with a shake of his head. “But I saw underneath it while he was taking a nap this afternoon.” He paused thinking about the horrible state that Harry’s face was currently in. “I have to wonder if he was able to cast such a strong glamour on himself or if his magic has simply done it for him? And why isn’t his magic healing him?” 

“We both know that some damage is so extensive that the magic can’t handle it all.” Dumbledore stated gravely. Snape nodded.

“I know. If that is indeed the case, however, he likely is hiding more injuries than we know about.”  

“Perhaps Poppy could be of help.” Dumbledore suggested as he took a sip of tea.

“I’ve already spoken with her. She’s going to give him a checkup tomorrow afternoon. Though I’m sure that Potter will be less than thrilled with the idea.”

For a long moment, neither man spoke, but when at last Dumbledore did, there was great sadness in his voice. “I should have checked on him. Personally. I should have taken the time to see to it that he was truly being taken care of.”

Snape looked away feeling uncomfortable. “I suppose there might have been a few misconceptions about the boy on my end as well.” He grudgingly admitted. Dumbledore hummed but otherwise gave no response leaving Snape to glower down into the blackness of his tea for a while before continuing in a huff. “Well, what’s done is done. It’s not as if you can go back and change anything for him.”

Dumbledore looked up at that, a thoughtful expression on his aged face. “I could.”

Snape’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “No. No, you can’t and you know it. Aside from all the other unknown ramifications that something like that could bring about, mum would murder you.”

The Headmaster sighed. “I suppose you’re right.” Then as if just remembering something exciting, he smiled brightly. “It appears as if the only thing to do now is to change his future! I believe we’re on the right track with that. The Dursleys will never be able to hurt him again and now that he has you, we can be sure that he is looked after properly.” 

Snape raised his eyebrows and gave Dumbledore a look that he usually reserved for when Neville Longbottom botched a potion. “He does not have me. He has been here barely a day and already I’ve threatened to punish him repeatedly. He can stay the summer, but you said you would look for him a more permanent place for next year.”
“Of course, of course, my boy. That’s what I meant.” Dumbledore waved his hand and was quick to assure the younger man but the twinkle in his eye only brightened. When the summer is over if that’s still what you and young Harry want, then I’m sure I’ll be able to find someone else.”

Snape stood up and walked the length of the parlor before turning back to Dumbledore. 

“Then you had better start looking, Dad, because I’m not going to change my mind. And if given the choice, there is absolutely no way that the brat would choose to stay here over one of his many admirers.”

Dumbledore sipped his tea. “I’m quite sure that you’re correct, Severus. However, let us take this one day at a time, shall we?” Looking to change the subject, we went on, “Now, I’m sure you would like to have your evening to yourself so how about we move on to the next topic that we have to discuss.”

Groaning to himself, Snape sat back down. “Of course. And would that be that Black is still on the loose or that you have hired our favorite werewolf to teach Defence this year?”

“Severus, I trust that you can set aside your differences with Remus in order to make his time here more comfortable.” Dumbledore looked seriously over to his adopted son who seemed to be studying his knees intently. 

“I’m brewing his potion as we speak.” He answered drily. 

“I am sure that he will appreciate that, as do I, but that is not what I mean.” 

Snape released a breath. “You’re asking a lot from me this year, old man.” 

Dumbledore smiled once more. “Only because I know that you are a man worthy of such requests.” 

“You have too much faith in me, Dad,” Snape murmured a hint of sadness in his tone.

“Nonsense,” Dumbledore replied, “Now, about Black. There are reports that he has been seen in Hogsmeade and now Cornelius is having dementors placed around the edge of the grounds despite all of my arguments against them.”

“When will they be here?”

“In two days’ time.” Dumbledore sat his teacup down with a shake of his head. “Dreadful creatures. They weren’t going to be here until term started, but Cornelius insisted that with Harry already here that they should-” 

Snape cut Dumbledore off with a raised hand as he abruptly stood up, eyes narrowing as he looked towards the hallway leading from the parlor. He waited a moment, listening intently, and when he heard the sound of the creaking floorboard for the second time, he stalked towards the hall.

“Mr. Potter!” He hissed as he rounded the corner and immediately came upon Harry, who stood with his back pressed against the wall. His eyes grew wide when he heard his professor and Snape felt slightly satisfied at catching the boy out of his room. He glared down at him. “Did you perhaps, misunderstand me when I explicitly told you to stay in your room ?!” 

Harry mutely shook his head. “Then explain to me why you are eavesdropping on our conversation when you knew what the consequences would be.” 

“I didn’t know what would happen!” Harry exclaimed as he took a half step away from Snape, being sure to keep his back against the wall. 

“Oh yes you did,” Snape growled and pointed back towards the parlor, “We sat right in there and talked about-”

“I had to! I needed to know for sure.” 

Harry’s words brought Snape up short and suddenly the pieces fit together. “You didn’t trust me?” 

The question seemed to cause Harry to panic even more, for he began stuttering apologies at once. “I-I’m sorry. I just. I had to find out, and you said- you said that-”

“Enough,” Snape interjected sternly, though without much force behind the word. 

Harry grew quiet. “You will learn, Potter, if it’s the only thing I teach you, that I keep my word.” 

Harry gulped but Snape simply reached out and took hold of Harry’s elbow, ignoring the boy’s flinch at the contact. Harry immediately tried to pull away but Snape’s hold was strong, though not tight enough to hurt him or leave a bruise. 

Snape began to lead him back to his bedroom as he lectured. “When I tell you to do something, Potter, I expect you to do it.” He waved his wand as they walked through the door of the bedroom and parchment, quill and ink appeared out of thin air and settled on the desk. “If you had needed to know the details of the conversation that was happening, I assure you, that you would have been included.” He pushed Harry down into the desk chair and leaned over with one hand on the chair and the other supporting his weight against the desk. “I warned you that if you eavesdropped on me then you wouldn’t like the consequences. I even told you that one of the said consequences might be writing lines, did I not?” 

Harry nodded and dropped his gaze to the desk.

“A verbal answer and look at me when I’m speaking.” 

“Yes, sir.” Harry spoke quietly as he looked back up at his professor.

“Though I do not expect it to happen overnight, eventually you will learn that I mean what I say and that I never make empty threats.” He pointed his wand at the parchment and words began to appear at the top. “I will never again show disrespect by eavesdropping on the conversations of Professor Snape or anyone else.” 

“You will copy this five hundred times, Potter.” 

Harry looked up at him from underneath that terrible-looking fringe of dark hair and Snape could tell that he wanted to argue, but instead, he sighed and said, “Yes, sir.” 

Snape nodded and before he could change his mind and make the boy stay up all night to finish them, said, “You will work on these until eight-thirty and then you will start getting ready for bed. Whatever you don’t have finished, you can work on tomorrow. Had you not violated the privacy of Professor Dumbledore and me, you could have stayed up until ten. Now, however, you will be in bed at nine-thirty. Is that understood?”

Harry bristled at that but wisely made no comment other than the required, “Yes, sir.” 

“Very well. I will be back to check on you then and you had better be in bed.” And with that, the Potions Master left the room, closing the door behind him and leaving Harry alone to think.

Harry had been writing for about an hour when he stopped to flex his hand which had begun to cramp. He looked down at the page and sighed. He only had a little over a hundred lines written and the small clock on the desk read 8:06. 

Snape wasn’t going to be happy. This was nowhere near five hundred. The man had said that he could finish up tomorrow but he surely expected Harry to be nearly done tonight with only a few left.   

He picked up the quill and started to write once more. He wouldn’t make Snape angrier by letting him catch him not working. No, he would work until exactly 8:30 and then get ready for bed, then he would take his things to the bed and work more there. Snape had only said he had to be in bed, not that he had to be asleep. It wasn’t like he could go to sleep that early anyway.

 During school, Harry rarely went to bed before Hermione forced him and Ron upstairs, usually somewhere around midnight. And at the Dursleys, he had needed to stay up until after everyone else had gone to bed so that he could sneak down to the kitchen for food or to the laundry room to try and wash the filth out of his clothes without Aunt Petunia finding out. There was simply no way that he would be able to sleep at 9:30. Especially not after being forced to take that nap earlier. 

Harry diligently worked for the next twenty minutes before he put the quill back down and shook out his hand. One hundred and twenty-three lines. He sighed as he stood up and pushed the chair back under the desk. “There’s not much I can do about it now.” He thought as he made his way to the wardrobe and pulled out a new pair of pajama bottoms, pants, and a t-shirt before walking into his bathroom. 

He took a moment to look around the small room, something he hadn’t really had the chance to do earlier. It was really simple but elegant in a no-nonsense kind of way. There were no frilly fussings like decorations or wall hangings that Aunt Petunia would have had. Instead, the gleaming white countertop held only a set of dark red soap and toothbrush holders with a matching cup, a single green and silver toothbrush, and a tube of toothpaste. Opening the mirror cabinet above the sink, Harry found a brush, comb, and deodorant but nothing else. The tub and toilet were on the other side of the room with a couple of red and gold rugs laid out in front of them. The towel rack next to the sink, as well as the bigger one next to the tub, both held white and red towels. The shower curtain was white but trimmed in the same shade of red and it suddenly dawned on him that Snape had decorated the bathroom in Gryffindor colors. 

Harry could hardly hold back a laugh at that! He tried to picture Snape standing in the room changing the colors of the furnishings to something his new ward would like, his usual sour expression on his face. His gaze landed on the toothbrush, the only thing not in shades of Gryffindor, and Harry did laugh then. A gold toothbrush would have been too much for Snape to handle. Besides, he probably thought it would drive Harry mad if he had to brush his teeth with a Slytherin-colored toothbrush every morning! Shaking his head, Harry finally put his clothes down on the countertop and started getting ready for bed. 

At exactly 9:30, Snape made his way out of his lab and down the hall towards Harry’s room. He gave a single rap on the door before simply opening it and walking in. Harry looked up from where he was sitting in bed with his quill in his hand and parchment in his lap. The bottle of ink was open and sitting on the bedside table.

“I’m sure I told you to be in bed at 9:30. Are you incapable of following even the simplest of instructions, Potter?”

“I am in bed!” He defended as he waved his hand over himself and the bed.

“You knew what I meant. Why are you still writing?”

Harry looked confused. “Because I’m not finished.”

Snape crossed his arms and glowered down at the boy. “And I also said what you didn’t have done by 8:30, you could finish tomorrow. Surely my words are not that hard for you to understand.”

Harry’s shoulders sagged. “No, it’s just that I wasn’t even close to done.” He looked down at the lines he had written. “I knew you would expect me to be further along than I was so I decided to keep working on them here.” 

Snape raised an eyebrow but made no further comment as he walked closer to the bed and began to gather up the writing supplies from Harry and took them back to the desk. When he turned back around he said, “Whatever you don’t have finished, you can work on tomorrow. I don’t care how far along you are as long as you’ve been working.” Harry nodded. “Now,” Snape said, folding his arms back over his chest. “How much of my conversation with Professor Dumbledore did you hear?” 

Harry gulped. “Not much, I swear! Just that something called dementors was coming to school because Black had been spotted close by. What’s a dementor, Professor?”

Snape frowned but eventually said, “They are the guards of Azkaban Prison.” 

“What are they like? And why are they coming early because of me?”

At this, Snape shook his head. “No, Potter, had you not listened in, you wouldn’t even have known that. It’s not something we will be discussing tonight.”

“But it’s about me.” Harry tried to keep his voice even as he argued with the stern Professor who was now leaning with his hip against the desk. “I should get to know.”

“And later, I have every intention of telling you, but not tonight. What else did you overhear?” Snape needed to know if the boy had heard about Lupin.

“Nothing.” Harry insisted quickly. 

“You’re sure?” Snape didn’t believe him for a second.

“Well,” Harry looked down to the bedspread and began picking at a loose thread, “yes, I’m sure. I must have misheard is all.”

Snape sighed and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, something he seemed to be doing a lot lately. “What do you think you misheard, Potter?”

Harry looked up but quickly dropped his gaze back down before stuttering his response. “I heard, I mean I thought I heard, you…” He swallowed hard. “Erm, you calling Professor Dumbledore, ‘dad’.” He finished in a rush. He heard Snape groan and looked up to see Snape with his eyes closed, taking a deep breath.

After a minute, Snape opened his eyes and took in the boy in front of him. “I suppose you would have found out eventually. Though it’s not necessarily a secret, most people don’t know and it would be better for all involved if it stayed that way.” 

Harry nodded but didn’t say anything.

“This is also not known by many, Potter, but Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, have been married for many years.”

“What?!” Harry exclaimed. 

Snape rolled his eyes. “Do close your mouth, Potter, it’s not that far out of the realm of possibilities to believe that your teachers have a life outside of this school.” 

“No, I know, it’s just… Really?!”

“Yes, really.” Snape seemed to steel himself for his next words with another deep breath. “When I was in my fourth year here, certain details about my home life were brought out and it ended up that I was unable to go back to live with my father. The short version is that they became my guardians after that and later, adopted me. It was a very private matter and as I said, it would be better if most people continue to be unaware. Though I’m sure you will tell little sidekicks the very first chance you get, I want your word, Potter, that this information will go no further.” He said in his most severe, potions master voice.

Harry quickly shook his head. “I’m not sure anyone would believe me anyway.” Then, as the information really began to sink in, he grinned. “So, then McGonagall,” Snape’s eyes flashed over to him and he corrected himself, “Professor McGonagall, I mean, she’s your mum!” 

“Potter,” Snape warned sternly but Harry just grinned wider.

“What was that even like? I bet you got into so much trouble with her! She doesn’t let anyone get away with anything.”

“Enough!” Snape snapped though he couldn’t help adding, “She lets you get away with plenty.” He held out his hands and said, “Glasses. You’re going to bed. It’s been a long day and tomorrow promises to be just as long. You need sleep.”

“I’m not tired,” Harry said even as he took off his glasses and handed them to his professor who sat them on the bedside table.

“I don’t care. You will lay here until you fall asleep. Then in the morning, you will be on time for breakfast, after which you will finish your lines and start your schoolwork. If you behave, which I doubt, you may be permitted to visit with Hagrid after lunch, provided that you are back here by two o’clock. You have an appointment at that time with Madam Pomfrey.”

Harry, who had just been about to lay down, sat back up. “I’m not sick.”

“I didn’t say you were,” Snape replied coolly as he cast a spell at the fireplace and watched as the flames grew. “Any time that a child’s guardianship is transferred to someone else, they have to have a routine checkup done just to ensure that they are healthy and up to date on everything.”

“I’m fine,” Harry said adamantly, all merriment from just a moment ago suddenly gone from his voice. “I don’t need to go.” 

Snape looked back at him, knowing he would not like the idea of being checked over by the mediwitch. 

“It is not up for discussion, Potter.” 

“I’m not hurt!” Harry flinched at his own words and looked quickly at anything but Snape.

“Why on earth would you be hurt, Potter?” Snape asked slowly. “It’s not as if you have had time to get up to anything dangerous in the two weeks you’ve been back with your relatives. Or perhaps there is something you’d like to tell me?”

Harry grit his teeth and shook his head. “I’m just not going.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. Harry was glaring defiantly back up at him but Snape would not be moved on this. “Oh, I think you’ll find that you are, Potter. As I said, this is not up for discussion. You will be back in these quarters tomorrow by two o’clock and we will go together to visit Madam Pomfrey. Because if you’re not, and I have to come and find you, I will levitate you all the way up there and I’ll pay no mind to anyone who might see.” 

Predictably, Harry looked shocked before turning his attention back to the bedspread. He wanted to believe that Snape would never get away with that, but he also didn’t want to risk it. 

“Do we understand each other?” Snape asked.

Harry nodded. “Yes, sir.” He grudgingly replied.

“Good.” Snape walked into the bathroom and rolled his eyes at the clothes and towel that lay on the floor before spelling the towel back onto the rack and the clothes into the hamper that was just on the outside of the bathroom door. Harry watched, dumbstruck at the picture of Snape cleaning up after him. The sight just didn’t fit right with the stern professor. 

Snape turned back to him. “Go to sleep. I don’t want to catch you out of that bed for anything but the loo until morning. The last thing I want is to have you using that infernal cloak to snoop around.” 

At the mention of the cloak, Harry sat back up again. “Where is my cloak?” He asked quickly.

“On the top shelf of the wardrobe, where it belongs and where it will stay if you know what’s good for you,” Snape answered seriously, dimming the lights but not putting them out completely.

“What about my broom? Will I be allowed to go flying?”

Snape gave a tired sigh. “Your broom is in the front closet and yes, I suppose at some point I’ll have to allow you to fly, or else you’ll drive me insane with your incessant nagging about it. But it certainly won’t be tonight, so again, go to sleep.” 

This time Harry did lay all the way down in the bed. He pulled the covers up over himself as he turned over onto his right side and stared over at Snape despite everything in the room being blurry without his glasses. 

“When can I see McGonagall?” He asked, surprisingly around a yawn.

“I haven’t the foggiest idea. Why do you want to see her?” Snape was now straightening the papers on Harry’s desk. “I assure you, she won’t listen to your pleas to be removed from my custody, nor will she believe you when you undoubtedly tell her of all the terrible things I do to you.”

Harry shrugged. “She might.” 

“Oh, of course, you are correct. How silly of me to forget that she would obviously take the word of one of her lions over that of her son.” Snape said absently as he stoked the fire once more. 

Harry smiled at that. “Do you like being her son? You’re both just pretending then I guess at school, right? Is she actually nice to you?” 

Snape didn’t know why he didn’t just walk out of the room. It would have been so easy to just ignore the boy, put out the lights, and walk right out. But instead, he found himself answering.

“I do. We are, and yes, very much so. And I imagine that if you don’t see her tomorrow, you will see her on Thursday morning when she requests that we meet her for breakfast.” He waved his wand and the room was draped in darkness. “No more questions tonight. For the last time, go to sleep.” Snape didn’t wait for a response before he walked out the door.

Harry lay awake for a long while after that, hundreds of questions running through his mind about Snape, about Dumbledore and McGonagall, about Sirius Black and whatever dementors were, and about that black dog he’d seen the night he left Privet Drive. He thought about these things until everything started to jumble together and get mixed up in his head. At some point, Sirius Black was having a cozy breakfast with McGonagall while still wearing his prison clothes and telling her politely about how she should be careful when turning into the cat because there was a big black dog on the loose that might chase her. Though thinking back, Harry was sure that must have been a dream.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Harry awoke with a groan before rolling over onto his side and pulling the blankets up over his head. He lay there in the warmth and comfort of the soft mattress for a whole two minutes before he realized that he wasn’t sleeping on the lumpy mattress in Privet Drive with the threadbare blanket that uncovered his feet if he pulled it over his head. 

He rolled back to face the ceiling and tugged the blankets away from his face, taking the warmth away with them. Everything was blurry without his glasses but it didn’t matter. He suddenly remembered where he was. 

In Snape’s dungeons.

The events from the day before came rushing back in waves. Leaving the Leaky Cauldron. Going down into Knockturn Alley. Snape taking him back. The floo into Dumbledore’s office. Being told that Snape was now his guardian. Lunch with Snape and the accidental magic that rattled the plates on the table. Being forced to take a nap. Snape taking him shopping! His own room. Dinner and the argument with Snape. Getting caught eavesdropping and Snape making him write those lines. A Gryffindor-themed bathroom! And then, Snape was in his room before he went to sleep. Telling him about dementors and Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore adopting him. 

Harry groaned again. He had been so sure that it had all been a dream. Or a nightmare. Or something. He reached over to the bedside table where he remembered that Snape had put his glasses and put them on his face, bringing the room into focus. A glance at the clock let him know that it was 7:56. He needed to get up and get ready for breakfast. He definitely didn’t want to add being late to the list of things that Snape was surely already mad at him for. 

With a long sigh, Harry left the comfiest bed he’d ever slept on, even more, comfortable than his bed in Gryffindor Tower, and walked over to the wardrobe where all his new clothes had been put away. Without paying much attention to what he was picking, Harry pulled out a clean pair of jeans and a gray shirt before heading to the bathroom to change. 

Once he was ready, Harry quietly stepped out of his room and made his way down the hall to the kitchen where he found Snape already sitting at the table, the Daily Prophet was held open in his hands, hiding his face from Harry’s view. The table was empty except for a cup of coffee sitting to Snape’s right. 

Harry stood there for a minute, unsure of what to say or if he should just go to the table. However, Snape saved him from needing to say anything when he, himself, spoke first.

“Potter, are you aware that this is a dungeon?” He asked without looking up from his paper. 

Harry frowned in confusion. “Yes, sir.”

“Then I am sure you are also aware that it is generally much cooler down here than it is in the rest of the castle?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered again.

Snape lowered the newspaper. “Why then, Potter, are you not dressed properly in socks and shoes? Do you enjoy feeling your feet go numb with cold?” 

“How did you-” But Harry cut himself off and shook his head. “I guess I just don’t like for my feet to be too warm.” He stated. “And besides, it’s not as if I’m going anywhere today.” 

Snape folded his paper and set it to the side before tapping the table with his right hand causing their breakfast to appear instantly. 

“Eat, Mr. Potter. Then you will finish dressing before you begin your lines.” 

Harry closed the distance between himself and the table and sat down in the same chair he had sat in yesterday on the right side of Snape.

He filled his plate with toast, eggs, sausage, and jam then began to eat, making sure that he didn’t go too fast so that Snape wouldn’t have anything to say about him this time. 

However, Snape seemed to be in an unusually talkative mood this morning. 

“I was under the impression that you wished to visit Hagrid today.” He said as he spread strawberry jam on his toast. 

Harry snapped his gaze up to look at his professor. “You said I couldn’t.”

Snape shook his head. “I said you couldn’t last night. I’ve already told you that you would have free time after lunch as long as you had permission to go out.” 

“Oh,” Harry said softly, taking a sip of his orange juice. “I thought that after last night-” He trailed off and understanding dawned on Snape. 

“The lines are your only punishment, Mr. Potter. Unless, of course, you don’t feel as if it was adequate in teaching you your lesson about listening in to other people's private conversations?” 

“No, sir,” Harry was quick to reply. “It won’t happen again.” 

Snape took a bite of his toast but Harry was sure that for a split second, there had been an amused look on the stern professor’s face. 

The reminder of what he had done last night made Harry blush in embarrassment. A feeling he hadn’t expected. It was one thing to get into trouble with the professor for messing up a potion or something else that might not be justified. It was entirely another to be in trouble with the man when even Harry knew that he had done wrong. And not even that, but he had eavesdropped last night knowing that it was the very thing he had been told not to do more than once and that if he got caught, Snape would be livid.  

Suddenly, the breakfast that had tasted so good just moments before, seemed to be settling in the pit of his stomach like one of Hagrid’s rock cakes. Heavy and unwanted. Harry squirmed in his seat, unsure of what to do about the sudden guilt he was feeling. He had been too afraid last night to feel much of anything, least of all guilt. But now, sitting at the table for the third time in a row, with it basically being a rule that he eats, with new clothes that fit after having just slept in the most comfortable bed he’s ever had, Harry felt enormous guilt for what he’d done. 

“Professor?” Harry said quickly before he had a chance to lose his nerve. Snape hummed in response to show he was listening as he brought his coffee cup up to take a sip.

“I-I’m really sorry about last night. I don’t know what I was thinking, I just…” He shook his head, frustrated at himself for fumbling over his words knowing Snape would surely have a comment about how Harry couldn’t even apologize correctly. “I don’t know. But it was wrong and I’m sorry.” Harry looked down at his plate, nervousness coursing through him at how his professor would respond. He rolled his lips between his teeth as he waited with baited breath.

Snape wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but Potter apologizing certainly hadn’t been on the list. Likewise, neither had he expected that he would be sincere and actually show remorse for his actions. Snape didn’t know how to rectify the boy he had pictured in his mind the last three years with the boy sitting with him at the table.

Snape watched him with his head bowed and that unruly, black hair falling in front of his eyes, effectively hiding them from view, and for the first time in three years, Snape wasn’t reminded of James Potter. “It’s alright.” Snape suddenly heard himself saying. Then, without giving himself time to change his mind, he continued, “You will finish your lines today and then your punishment will be over. There will be no more need to speak of it.” 

He watched as Harry’s head snapped up in surprise. He definitely hadn’t been expecting that. “So then,” Harry said softly, “are you still mad?” 

Snape took a bite of his food in order to give himself a minute to think about that. Was he? No, he didn’t think so. He thought back to those first few months after Albus and Minerva had taken over guardianship of him. He had still been in school but there had been plenty of “Family Bonding” as Minerva had called it and even more of Snape testing them in every way he could think of to see how far he could get before they broke and sent him back. It had never happened. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen with Potter, but at least for now, he didn’t seem to be going anywhere anytime soon. He supposed the last thing he needed was for Potter to be testing him at every turn, though he highly doubted (even with Potter’s track record) that he could get into as much trouble as Snape had gotten into on purpose just to prove a point. Still, he was a Gryffindor.

Sighing, Snape finally replied, “I am not mad.” He wanted to pretend that the smile he saw flit across the boy’s face had been imagined. More than that, he wanted to pretend that he didn’t care in the slightest. “Eat some fruit.”

Harry picked up an apple.

After breakfast, Harry spent the morning writing the rest of his lines in his room. He hadn’t heard anything from Snape since the man had told him that he would be in his lab should he need anything. 

When he finished the last of the five hundred lines, his hand aching painfully, he put them aside to pick up his History of Magic book. He still had about an hour before lunch and he didn’t want Snape to accuse him of wasting time and not doing his homework. After a while though, Harry took the heavy tome back to his bed to finish his studying there instead of on the hard chair. He was just getting deep into the Goblin Wars when Snape called him for lunch.

“I hope you finished your lines?” Snape said as soon as they sat down. Their food once again appeared when Snape rapped his knuckles against the table. 

“I did,” Harry answered, adding cornish pasties to his plate along with mashed potatoes, but steadfastly ignoring the turnip greens. “And I even worked some on my History of Magic essay.”

“Wonders never cease.” Snape pointed towards the greens but Harry’s nose wrinkled at them.

“No, thanks. I don’t like them.” 

“They’re good for you,” Snape stated, spooning some onto his own plate.

“Don’t care.” Harry shook his head. 

“I do. They have vitamin K in them, which is very good for your bones. Something I’m sure you could benefit from.” 

Harry didn’t want to argue with Snape and end up not being allowed to visit Hagrid, so reluctantly, he added a small spoonful to his plate and began to eat. 

With both of them content in relative silence, their meal passed fairly quickly. Snape had almost finished everything on his plate when he noticed that Harry was resting his head on his left hand and merely moving the turnip greens around instead of eating them. Rolling his eyes, Snape vanished the vegetable with a wave of his hand and replaced them with an extra scoop of potatoes. Harry looked up in surprise but Snape was already focused on his plate once more. 

Harry finished his food and as soon as he was done, Snape cleared the table and stood up. “Do you have your wand with you?” Snape asked as he made his way back into the parlor. Harry followed him and replied, “It’s in my room.”

“Go and get it. Normally, you know of course that you aren’t allowed to do magic in the summer, however in light of recent events, I want you to keep your wand on you at all times. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.” Harry nodded, “But has this got anything to do with-”

Snape cut him off. “Nevermind what it has to do with. We will talk about it later.”

“That’s what you said last night.” Harry reminded him even as he was heading towards the hallway. 

“And I meant it, now go.” Snape crossed his arms and stood in the middle of the room while he waited for Harry to return. 

“Why can’t you just tell me now?” Harry asked as he came back in, his wand now held loosely in his right hand.

“Because now you’re going to Hagrid’s. You will have one hour to visit-” He stopped short. Harry was tucking his wand into the back pocket of his jeans. “No, don’t put it there.”

Harry glanced up in surprise. “Why?” He asked simply. 

Snape raised a brow. “I would have thought that much would be obvious, Potter.”

“Where do you put yours then?” Harry asked, barely containing a roll of his eyes. “It’s not as if I’ve got a lot of options besides just holding it constantly.” 

Snape pulled his own wand from where it was tucked into his sleeve. 

“Well, we don’t all wear long sleeves and robes year-round, do we?” Harry quipped. 

“Maybe you should.” Snape shot back as he walked over to the table beside his chair and picked up a quill. With a wave of his wand and a quietly muttered incantation, the quill was transfigured into a sleek, black leather holster. At the top was a loop with a fastener attached to it. He thrust it out to Harry. “Here. Hook this to your belt. You can use it when you’re not wearing robes.” 

“Thanks,” Harry said appreciatively. This was the third time today that Snape’s actions had surprised him. He slid his wand into the holster, noticing as he did that it was a perfect fit. 

Snape nodded and turned away towards the door. He opened it and said, “As I said, you have one hour, Potter. Not a minute more. I want you back in these quarters no later than 1:45.”

Harry groaned. “Do I really have to go? I promise I’m not sick.” 

“You do,” Snape replied sternly. “We’ve been over this and the discussion is closed. We will meet Madam Pomfrey at two and you will behave for her. You will show her respect, answer every question truthfully and do everything she asks. Am I making myself perfectly clear on this, Potter?”

Harry gulped. “Yes, sir.” He replied miserably. 

“Very well.” Snape nodded towards the hallway outside the door. “Go on then.” 

Harry had barely had time to raise his hand to knock on the door of Hagrid’s hut before it was yanked open and he was pulled roughly inside by the half-giant. 

“Oi, Harry! Ow’ve yeh bin?” Hagrid exclaimed, pulling the boy into a crushing hug.

“I’m good, Hagrid, but I can’t breathe!” 

Immediately, Hagrid let him go and gave a gruff chuckle. 

“Well, c’mon, c’mon inside. No, Fang, yeh just leave ‘em be.” He said as Fang the dog tried to pick up where Hagrid had let off by smothering Harry in affection. Though the dog's love came in the form of jumping on Harry and covering him in slobber.

Harry laughed as he made to push Fang off him and wipe away some of the wetness that now clung to him.

“How’d you know I was coming, Hagrid?” Harry asked as he sat down at the table. Fang lay at his feet. 

“Oh, Professor Snape sent word that yeh’d be comin’ down.” He busied himself at the fireplace for a moment before returning to the table with his kettle and a couple of cups the size of Harry’s head. “Tea? I got some rock cakes, too. I know how much yeh like ‘em, Harry” 

“Er, no thanks, Hagrid.” Harry quickly declined. “I just had lunch, you see.” 

Hagrid waved away his excuse and said, “Nonsense. I expec’ Professor Snape won’ be lettin’ you have sweets much now that yer livin’ with ‘em. Best be takin’ ‘em where’n you can get ‘em” 

Reluctantly, Harry obliged and was soon attempting to nibble the corner off of the cake, that was, as always, as hard as a rock. 

“I guess you heard that I’m staying with Snape, then?” Harry remarked, giving Fang an affectionate scratch behind the ears.

Hagrid nodded. “Yeah. I think it’s a right good idea, meself.”

“You do?!” Harry exclaimed. “But you know he hates me!”

Again, Hagrid waved him away as he sat down at the table.

“Nonsense. O’ course he doesn’, Harry. Besides, yeh’ll be safer ‘ere at Hogwarts than anywhere else, I s’pose.” 

“Safe? With Snape?”

“Yeh, with Snape. Now, Harry, ‘ve tol’ yeh over an’ over, Snape’s a good man. Known ‘em since he was a firs’ year, I reckon’.”

Harry almost spit out his overly sweet tea. 

“You knew Snape as a kid?!” 

“Well, o’ course I did, didn’ I? Bin gamekeeper at Hogwarts since long before that. He used ter come down an’ have a spot o’ tea with me now an’ agin. Was pretty good abou’ offerin’ ter help me with some o’ the plantin’ or weedin’ in me garden, too. Mind, you, I didn’ need the help, but sometimes he seemed a bit lonely, yeh see.” 

“I can’t picture that,” Harry muttered with a shake of his head.

Hagrid laughed. “O’ course not, he’s yer teacher. You remind me o’ him a bit, yeh know.”

Hagrid didn’t elaborate on just how Harry reminded him of his most hated and feared potions professor and Harry didn’t ask. Instead, the subject was changed and soon the two were talking about Harry’s summer and anything else that came up. Conversation flowed easily between them until the clock above Hagrid’s mantle suddenly struck two and Harry’s eyes widened before he jumped up so fast that he overturned his teacup.

“I’ve got to go! See you, Hagrid!” 

Snape was fuming. He explicitly told that boy that he was to be back by 1:45. Not a minute later! Now, here it was ten minutes past two and he was nowhere to be found. Snape pushed away from the mantle where he had been standing and headed for the door.

Well, he would just go down there and drag him back up if he had to and he’d better have a good excuse for being late because otherwise he- His thoughts were cut off when the door flew open just as he was about to reach for it. 

Harry stumbled into the parlor, barely stopping himself from barreling right into Snape. He was panting and gasping for breath as he clutched at his side.

“I’m sorry!” He barely gasped out. “I was...talking...to” He leaned over, placing his hands on his knees, desperately trying to take in air.

Snape rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed huff.

“You foolish child.” He scolded. “Stop trying to talk and sit down.” Snape took hold of Harry’s arm, ignoring the flinch he gave and guided him over to the couch where he non to gently pushed him down into it before summoning a glass of water from the kitchen. 

“I ran...all the way...back.” Harry choked out as Snape held the glass out for him to take.

“Obviously,” Snape replied. “Did it not occur to you that if you had left early enough, you wouldn’t have had to run?” 

Harry tilted his head up and sent his best scowl in the direction of his professor.

“Obviously,” Harry repeated his word back to him. After taking a couple more deep breaths and a drink of the water, he said, “I lost track of time, I swear. I wasn’t trying to make you mad.”

Snape pressed his lips into a thin line as he narrowed his eyes at the boy in front of him. He decided not to comment and instead turned away from him.

“If you can stand without falling over, perhaps we can go to the appointment that we are already late for?” 

Harry nodded and stood up, moving towards the door until Snape’s voice pulled him back.

“If you had been here on time, we could have walked. Now, however, we shall take the floo so that we are not even later.” 

Harry bit back a groan, though just barely, and followed the professor back over to the fireplace. He should have known that Snape wouldn’t let him being late go that easily.

Barely a minute later, they were both stepping out of the fireplace in the infirmary to see Madam Pomfrey bustling around as she usually did. 

“You’re late.” She said when she noticed them.

“My apologies, Madam.” Snape said smoothly, “Mr. Potter seems to have had better things to do this afternoon.” 

Harry looked down at his shoes sheepishly. 

“Nevermind, Dear.” She said to Harry with a smile that he didn’t see. “Go on to bed three, please. Your usual pajamas are already laid out.” 

Harry jerked his head around to look at Snape with a pleading expression. Snape shot him a stern one in return and simply pointed to the bed. Harry gave a resigned sigh and turned away. 

Once he was behind the curtain, Harry quickly changed into the pajamas, though he didn’t understand why he needed to change if it was going to be just a simple check-up. He took a seat on the bed and waited for Madam Pomfrey to come over. He could hear her whispering softly to Snape from somewhere near the front of the room. 

Finally, she pulled the curtain open and stepped over to the bed. Snape stood off to the side, but close enough that he could still see Harry clearly.

“Alright, Mr. Potter. I’m going to be performing a set of diagnostic spells on you first. Just settle in and get comfortable. You won’t need to do anything, but you must stay seated. It could take a few moments.”

Harry nodded and sat still as Madam Pomfrey set about using a complex-looking wand movement around him. He didn’t hear her saying anything so he assumed she was using wordless magic. He began to fidget, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of his shirt, then tapping a quiet rhythm on his knee with his hands. 

Harry glanced over at Snape who was watching him intently, a frown on his face. He looked away. Instead, he turned his focus towards the window. He could just make out the quidditch pitch in the distance. He missed flying. The feeling of total weightlessness and freedom that came from being so high up, out of the prying eyes of everyone else. Up there, it was like he didn’t have any problems in the world. None of the other students whispering about him in the halls. No evil wizards after him. No Dursleys. No snarky Potions Professors who were intent on making his life miserable. 

He chanced another look at Snape. He’d moved closer to the bed, beside Madam Pomfrey. There was a piece of parchment and a quill suspended in midair. The quill was writing and they were both reading whatever it said. Madam Pomfrey looked suddenly sad and Harry, for a fleeting moment, wondered why. That is until he looked closer at Snape. His mouth was still set in a hard frown with his jaw clenched. His eyebrows were creasing so much that they almost seemed drawn together. 

And suddenly, it seemed to dawn on Harry. 

“What-” He licked his lips that had gone dry. “What are those tests looking for?” He could feel his heart beginning to race when they both turned to look at him. ‘ No,’ he thought, ‘No. There’s no way that they could know. It’s not possible. I did everything right. I learned the spell to cover things up. I learned how to do that and it worked. They can’t know!’ Harry tried to slow his breathing down, which had become erratic without his even realizing it. ‘Think, Harry, think! Whatever they say, just lie. Just lie and it’ll all be okay. It won’t be like last time. Uncle Vernon won’t find out. Just lie.’ 

Harry began to repeat the mantra over and over in his head as he steeled his features in an attempt to look relaxed. 

But Snape saw right through it. 

“Potter.” He said in a voice that seemed too soft. Too gentle. It was so strange to Harry’s ears that he almost didn’t like it. He would rather him say his name in the same biting, hostile tone he usually used. “Where are you hurt?” 

Harry didn’t miss how he had asked “where” instead of just “are”, but he shook his head anyway. Eyes wide but never leaving Snape’s. “I’m not.” 

Snape sighed. He stepped around Madam Pomfrey who was still reading the parchment in order to stand directly in front of him. “You’re wearing a glamour on your face? Why, if not because you are hurt?” Harry refused to answer. He set his jaw and looked away. Back outside to the quidditch pitch. “We don’t actually need you to tell us,” Snape said finally. “The diagnostics that Madam Pomfrey has just performed,” He gestured to the mediwitch, “They are very clear. Very… infallible.” 

At this, Harry glanced up and swallowed hard around the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about, Professor.” He said in a deceptively polite voice. A tone of voice that Snape recognized. A pleasing tone. Snape hated to think about why he had learned to use that tone. 

“You won’t be going back there,” Snape said evenly. When Harry still made no response, just stared at him with those wide, green eyes, he realized that he had likely heard those words before and had found them to be untrue. Harry was clasping his hands together in his lap so tightly that his knuckles were white.

“Madam Pomfrey,” Snape addressed the witch as he turned back to face her, “Would you please list the injuries that Mr. Potter is currently hiding?”

She nodded. This was the very worst part of her job, but she straightened her shoulders and forced herself to speak in a clinical, detached tone. To do anything else would betray her shock and anger at the muggles who had inflicted so much pain onto this child. She longed to pay them a visit herself and inflict double onto them. She sighed.

“Mr. Potter has several bruises on his face and torso. Numerous cuts and welts from about mid-back, down to the back of his thighs. One broken rib and his left ankle has been broken recently. It looks as if his magic tried to heal it, but was unsuccessful, likely due to the amount of effort it was taking to keep the glamour charm in place for such a long time, while the rest of his body was so severely hurt. As a result, the ankle has set wrong.” 

Snape eyed the boy on the bed. He was still refusing to look at them, but he wasn’t staring defiantly away either. Instead, he simply kept his gaze trained on the tops of his knees. 

“Mr. Potter, please tell us how you got these injuries.” 

For the first time, Harry looked up. He shrugged. “I dunno, sir. My cousin and I play pretty rough sometimes. He’s a bit bigger than I am, you see. And I fell out of a tree last week. I’m rather accident-prone.” 

Snape was seething in anger. And for once, it wasn’t at the boy in front of him. He took a deep breath. He had to calm himself down if he was going to deal with this correctly. 

“Potter, we both know that you are not accident-prone. Foolish and daring, sure, but these injuries did not come from accidents.” Harry didn’t respond. “Did your uncle do this to you? Did he hit you?”

“No, sir.” Harry immediately replied. “He would never hurt me.” 

Snape knew there was likely only one other option that might convince the boy to talk. He had meant what he said earlier, they didn’t need him to talk. They actually had all the evidence they needed and then some, but Snape knew that one day, Harry was going to have to deal with the abuse. It wouldn’t do him any good to bottle it all up and pretend it hadn’t happened. 

Then, Snape found himself doing something he never would have imagined. 

He crouched down so that he was eye level in front of Harry. He rested his arms on his knees and looked up at the boy and whispered, “I know you don’t trust me. But you need to admit what happened. You need to admit it for yourself. It will help.” 

Harry stared past Snape and replied, “Nothing happened.” 

Snape sighed as he stood back up. “Madam Pomfrey, will you play the instances in which Mr. Potter received his injuries.” 

Madam Pomfrey looked up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. “Severus! He’s just frightened.”

“I know that.” He snapped, but then in a much calmer tone, he went on. “And he’s going to continue to be frightened of that oaf until he deals with this and begins to heal.”

Madam Pomfrey gave a resigned sigh before nodding and flicking her wrist in a circular motion. At once, a square about twelve inches tall and twelve wide, appeared in the air. Inside the box was white until suddenly images began to appear as if he were watching a program on the telly. Harry’s eyes focused on the box as if he were drawn to it. He couldn’t look away as Uncle Vernon appeared, looming over Harry at the beginning of summer. Harry was on the floor, cleaning supplies lay around him. He still clutched the brush he had been using to scrub the floor in his hand as he held his arms over his face, doing his best to shield himself from the blows.

“Turn it off,” Harry said suddenly. 

Vernon was kicking him in the stomach. Each forceful kick sent Harry sliding farther back across the wet floor. “Make it stop, Snape!” Harry yelled. He was standing now but he still couldn’t take his eyes off the screen. He watched as Uncle Vernon pulled his thick leather belt from the loops of his slacks, not even caring that the buckle wasn’t tucked into his hand. When he raised his arm back as far as it would go, it whipped down in a deafening crack onto Harry’s shoulder. The screen Harry was yelling, begging him to stop. Blubbering apologies and promises to be good. But Uncle Vernon wasn’t listening. He just kept swinging, the leather and buckle both slicing into the small boy on the floor. Uncle Vernon took a step forward to get a better aim and when he did, he stepped on Harry’s ankle. The sound of his bone breaking was only muffled by the much louder sound of Harry’s scream.

“Snape, please! Make it stop!” 

All at once, the screen was gone. The only sounds that could be heard now were Madam Pomfrey as she pulled her handkerchief from the pocket of her apron and quickly left the room, barely holding back her tears. 

“Potter,” Snape said quietly.

Harry glared at him. “I bet you enjoyed that, didn’t you? Are you happy now, Snape? That’s my pampered life!” He pointed to where the screen had been, angry tears welling up in his eyes. As soon as the first one spilled over, the glamour fell. Snape tried not to look shocked by it. After all, he’d seen it already. “It was quite a show, wasn’t it? Seeing the hero of the wizarding world stomped on like the pathetic piece of filth that he is?! The freak in the cupboard is all that I am there! And now you know, don’t you? I bet you can’t wait to tell all your little snakes just all about it! Well, go ahead! I don’t care! I don’t need the Dursley’s and I don’t need you! I hate you, you filthy git! Do you hear me? You’re a right foul bastard and I hate you!” 

Harry was breathing hard, on the edge of hyperventilating even, but Snape stood still. He’d known it would be bad. He’d known Harry would hate seeing it. But he needed to get it all out, and if it happened to be aimed at him, well, that was alright too he supposed.

Chapter Text

After many long moments, Harry seemed to exhaust himself and dropped heavily back down to the bed. The burning rage he had felt towards Snape for exposing all the horrible secrets about his home life had simmered down, leaving him with a strange numbness. 

People knew now. 

How was he supposed to deny it when they had seen it with their own eyes? Once Uncle Vernon found out, he would go absolutely mental. He’d be lucky to survive next summer at all. Until now, he’d done a pretty good job of keeping things hidden. 

Hermione had suspected though. She’d only asked once and Harry had immediately denied anything, but the look she gave him clearly said she didn’t believe him. She tried to teach him a couple of healing spells after that and helped him learn out to do the glamour.

 Ron, of course, only knew of how he’d been locked away the summer before, but when he tried to tell his mum, Mrs. Weasley hadn’t believed him. Harry didn’t blame her. She likely didn’t believe most things that her three youngest boys told her. And for good reason. 

Harry was pulled from his thoughts as Madam Pomfrey came back into the room. Her face was now free of tears and her usual stoic expression firmly back in place. Her arms were laden down with potions and salves and Harry groaned, knowing that she was going to make him drink something foul.

“Now, none of that Mr. Potter,” she said as she placed the glass bottles and jars down on the dining tray beside his bed. “We’re likely going to have a long evening ahead of us and you know that it will go much smoother if you don’t argue and simply do as I say.” 

From the edge of his bed, Snape spoke, though Harry refused to look in his direction. “I shall leave you to it, Madam. I’m sure Professor Dumbledore is waiting to hear of his condition.”

The mediwitch shook her head. “I’m afraid that he will just have to wait, Severus. I need you here.” 

“I don’t want him here.” Harry snapped before Snape had a chance to say anything. 

“And yet here is where he shall stay,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly. “This will all go much faster if I have his help.”

Snape turned back to face them, standing quietly as he waited for instructions. 

“Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey began, “there is quite a lot that we need to do in order to get you back on track. Mending your broken ribs will be first on the list and as you know, I can do that in a second. However, we also need to get several potions inside of you. The first being a rather strong pain-relieving potion, followed by several nutritional supplements. Then we will work on the various cuts that need to be properly cleaned before they can be healed and Merlin help us if they’ve already become infected. I’ve got a potion for that too, though. Then, we will be able to move on to the bruises which will possibly take the most time just because there are so many of them and because they are so deep. Last, will be your ankle, I think.” 

Harry didn’t miss the look that passed between Snape and Madam Pomfrey at the mention of his ankle. Harry grit his teeth, not sure if he wanted to know the answer to the question he was about to ask. “How will you fix my ankle?” 

“I will put you to sleep.” She answered swiftly. “You won’t feel a thing, but we will have to rebreak the bone in order to set it right so that it can heal properly.”

But Harry was already shaking his head. “I don’t want you to rebreak it. It’s fine the way it is, I swear!”

“You think it is now, Mr. Potter, but if we don’t set that ankle now, it could cause quite a bit of pain and suffering later.”

“As she said,” Snape spoke for the first time to Harry, “you will not feel a thing. By the time you wake up, you will be completely healed and back to normal.” 

Logically, Harry knew that what Snape said was true, but that didn’t help to abate his fears about letting his bone be broken at all. He opened his mouth to argue but Snape cut him off, raising his hand in front of him. “You can either take the dreamless sleep yourself, or Madam Pomfrey will spell it into you. It’s entirely your choice, Potter.” 

Harry glared at him. He didn’t want Snape here. Not after everything he had seen. He was sure that he was just waiting for the first opportunity to throw the memories back in his face. It didn’t matter that he had so far been pretty decent to him. It didn’t matter that he had taken him in or given him a room or nice clothes and food to eat. None of that mattered because in the end, Snape was still the evil, greasy, bat of the dungeons and he hated Harry. He was only taking him in because Dumbledore made him and he knew that the first chance he got, he would be rid of him. 

However, all that being said, Harry knew, he just knew that Snape wasn’t going to let him go until he was cleared by Madam Pomfrey. No amount of begging or pleading was going to change that fact, if for no other reason than because Snape knew that he hated being in the hospital wing. It would be just like Snape to make him stay here just to torture him. So like it or not, Harry was going to have to take the stupid potion. He wasn’t dumb enough to think that Snape wouldn’t just spell it into him either, and he bloody well wasn’t about to let that happen as if he were some ruddy two-year-old who wouldn’t take his medicine!

Finally, glaring down at the bedcovers as if they had personally done him wrong, Harry nodded. “Fine.” He didn’t see Madam Pomfrey let out a breath or Snape’s shoulders drop the smallest bit in relief at the word and the next thing he knew, the mediwitch was holding out a vial of purple-colored liquid. Harry took it from her outstretched hand but he didn’t immediately uncork it. 

“Lie back,” she instructed. “It begins to work instantly.” 

Harry pulled his feet up onto the bed and sat back against the pillows. He opened the potion and gave a cursory sniff. He thought he caught a hint of lavender before he brought it to his lips and downed the bottle in two big gulps. Harry screwed up his face at the taste before holding it back out to her. 

Already his eyes began to feel heavy as he lay back on the bed. He saw Snape come towards him but he was too tired to care much when he gently removed his glasses and folded them before placing them on the bedside table. The room went blurry and the outline of Snape became increasingly fuzzy the harder he tried to look up at the man.

“Relax, Potter.” He heard him say, though it sounded as if it were coming from far off. “Don’t try to fight it, it will just cause you to wake up with a headache.”

Harry was only able to hum in response, his eyes slowly drifting closed a few times before finally, he was unable to open them back up and he fell into the blissful quietness of sleep. 

Once Harry had been asleep for a few minutes, Madam Pomfrey waved her wand and began spelling potions into him. The effect of the pain-relieving potion was immediate and the small creases in Harry’s brow softened and the tenseness in his muscles began to relax. 

Madam Pomfrey handed Snape a jar of dark blue balm and pointed to the bruising that covered so much of Harry’s face. “I’ll take care of the ribs, you set to work on that.”

Snape gave a resigned sigh but nodded as he took off his outer robe and placed it on the chair before he sat carefully on the edge of the bed, close to Harry’s shoulder. “Do be gentle, Severus.” 

“I do know how to apply a bruise balm, Madam,” Snape replied curtly as he began to roll up the sleeve of his white shirt.

He could hear Madam Pomfrey muttering the spell to heal his broken ribs behind him as he dipped his fingers into the balm. Taking a deep breath, he reached over and as gently as he knew how to be, Snape began to smooth the solution over the left side of Harry’s face. 

Harry made no movement, though Snape knew that he wouldn’t. In his experience, at least this potion did not sting on contact. However, the wound cleaning potion that they would be using on his back, would likely sting very much. 

Slowly, Snape worked the potion into the deep bruises on the child’s face and alongside his neck. Using the pad of his thumb, Snape set to work on his eye, which was still quite swollen. He was careful not to accidentally get it in his eye though and once the first layer had been done, the swelling began to lessen and the dark blue and purple bruises had already started to fade. A couple more layers should heal it completely and so Snape started over. 

When he had finished and Harry’s face was now pale once more, Snape stood up. He wiped his hands on the towel that Madam Pomfrey had given him before rolling his shoulders back to relieve some of the tension that had settled there. Just Potter’s face had taken nearly thirty minutes. He shuddered to think what they would find on his back. 

Madam Pomfrey had healed his broken ribs but she still planned to wrap them once they finished with his back. She had learned a long time ago that boys tended to undo all her hard work when they refused to listen to her orders to rest and not overexert themselves. The man currently working beside her was proof enough of that. 

“Alright,” she said quietly to Snape, “let’s get him turned over so that we can see what we’re working with.” 

Snape nodded, assuming she meant for him to do it as she had turned to wave her wand at the cabinet at the far end of the room, silently accioing more potions to her. He reached down and placed a hand at Harry’s shoulder and the other at his hip, carefully turning him so that he lay face down on his stomach. He tried not to think about how effortless it had been to turn him or how little the child weighed. That was a problem to solve later. 

Madam Pomfrey nodded at him and with a short wave of his wand, Harry’s shirt vanished. The mediwitch couldn’t contain her gasp at the sight and even Snape looked away for a moment, willing himself to stay calm and focus on the task at hand. 

If Harry’s face had looked bad, it was nothing compared to his back. Deep cuts and welts were mixed with bruises all across his back. Most seemed to be concentrated in the middle but a few had managed to land across his shoulders and down past the waistband of his pajama bottoms and Snape knew that when they removed them, they would find even more cuts and bruises. A few were indeed infected and Snape was suddenly glad that the boy was asleep. The imprint left from the belt buckle was left in several places along with the unmistakable signs of a shoe.

“Damn,” Snape said angrily.

  Madam Pomfrey covered her mouth with her hand as she gave a deep, shuddering breath. “Why didn’t he-”

“He couldn’t,” Snape said, his expression as dark and dour as ever. 

They remained quiet for another moment, both lost in their own thoughts until finally, when Madam Pomfrey spoke, it was in a clinical, almost distant, tone. 

“You apply the wound cleaning potion to the cuts and I will heal them afterward. Then we will move on to the bruises.”

Snape’s only response was a nod as he picked up a yellow potion and once again sat on the edge of the bed to begin his task. 

Snape grimaced as even in his sleep, Harry flinched when the potion was applied to the cuts. As soon as the smoke cleared away, Madam Pomfrey tapped each wound with her wand, magically healing it before their eyes. 

They worked together in this way for over an hour, making their way down Harry’s body cleaning cuts, healing them, and then healing the bruises that lay peppered all over. What bothered Snape the most was the faint scars that lay underneath. Old scars that gave further proof that this wasn’t a one-time thing. How long had that muggle been beating this boy? How many times had he tried to ask for help only for it to backfire? 

Neither of them spoke except to comment on a particularly nasty cut or bruise and once they were done, Madam Pomfrey immediately spelled his pajamas back in place.

They were tired. Especially Madam Pomfrey who was worn out from the near-constant pull of her magic while healing Harry. 

“Maybe we should take a break,” Snape suggested as he ran his hands over his face before standing up and stretching his back from where it had become sore after sitting hunched over for so long. “We only have his ankle left.”

“I’m fine.” Madam Pomfrey answered immediately. “As you said, this is all we have left. The quicker that we get it done, the more time he will have to rest peacefully before the Dreamless Sleep wears off.” 

Snape looked down at the boy now laying once more on his back. He seemed to be resting comfortably for the moment but he knew that Madam Pomfrey was right. He needed undisturbed rest if he were to truly heal properly. “Alright. If you’re sure?”

She nodded and pointed her wand at another pain-relieving potion, wordlessly spelling it into Harry. “I know I said he wouldn’t feel it,” she began, but Dreamless Sleep is not the same as muggle anesthesia. Intense pain could force him to wake up. If he’s not very still, I could hit the wrong spot. I’ve numbed it the best I can…”

Madam Pomfrey trailed off and Snape suddenly understood. He moved around the bed so that he was now standing beside the mediwitch. He seemed to be trying to decide the best course of action when she spoke again. “I’ll hold his leg, Severus. You keep his upper body still.”

Snape gave a curt nod before reaching down and taking a firm hold on Harry’s shoulders. “Alright, on the count of three, then.” Snape braced himself. “One...Two...Three. Abscindio!” 

Even with the aid of the pain reliever, Harry began to whimper and whine in his sleep. His head turned to the side, the creases in his forehead returning. Snape exerted more pressure onto his shoulders to keep him from moving too much but he hadn’t thought to restrain his arms and suddenly Snape felt Harry’s hand grip onto his forearm, his nails digging into his flesh where he had rolled up his sleeves. Snape grit his teeth and winced. 

“Almost done.” Madam Pomfrey said from the foot of the bed. “Just once more.” And she muttered the spell again. 

Snape had no idea what to do. He had never been in this position before and he didn’t know how to help the boy! Harry began to murmur as he tried, even in such a deep sleep, to lose himself from Snape’s hold. “Please…” He whimpered. A tear leaked down the side of his face. “Lemme go…’m sorry...please!”

“Shh, it’s alright, child.” Snape found himself whispering into Harry’s ear. “It’s going to be alright.” He didn’t know what had come over him or what had possessed him to try and comfort the boy. All he knew was that he needed him to stop struggling. “Just stay still.” He said as gently as he could, “Stay still and it’ll be over soon.” 

Snape could hear as Madam Pomfrey began to say the spell that would heal his ankle properly, but he didn’t look back at her. Harry’s hand was still digging painfully into his arm but he took no notice of that either. Instead, he focused on Harry’s face. Noticing immediately when the spell began to work because he stopped whimpering and the lines softened once more. His body began to relax back into the bed and eventually, his hand released its tight grip, though it didn’t fall away to his side, but rather continued to rest on Severus’ arm. 

“It’s done.” Madam Pomfrey said quietly. She settled herself in a chair on the other side of the bed and looked over to where Snape still sat next to the boy. He was no longer holding him down and she wondered why he hadn’t moved yet. That is until she noticed Harry’s hand on his arm. But once Snape saw her gazing over at him, he quickly stood up, allowing the boy’s hand to fall away. He nodded and took a step back. “He’ll likely sleep through the night.” She commented. “Though I’m sure he’ll be starving in the morning. I want him to take those nutrient replenishing potions every day with breakfast, Severus. He’s not to skip even one.” 

“You have my word,” Snape answered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really must give my report to Professor Dumbledore.”

He cast another long look at the boy in the bed, now sleeping peacefully.

 Madam Pomfrey gave him a knowing smile. “He’ll be right here when you get back.” Snape made no comment but glared at her before turning on his heel and striding out of the room. 

Harry awoke with a start. The hospital wing was bathed in darkness as all the candles had been extinguished. The only light came from the almost full moon that Harry could see clearly, even without his glasses, through the window. 

His whole body ached. But it wasn’t the ache leftover from getting on Uncle Vernon’s bad side, or even from a particularly brutal quidditch practice. Just a stiffness in his muscles as if he hadn’t used them in a while. Which judging from how dark it was, Harry suspected it to be true. He wondered how long he’d been asleep and began to look around for his glasses so that he might be able to read the clock hanging on the far wall. 

Aside from that, he really needed the loo and didn’t fancy having to stumble across the hospital wing without his glasses. 

Finally, his hand found them on the bedside table and he shoved them onto his face, the room coming immediately into focus. 

He was just about to throw the covers off when movement from his other side caught his eye. He whipped his head around only to find Snape, sleeping in the chair beside his bed. His arms were crossed and his chin was resting on his chest, his black hair almost covering his face from view. Harry wanted to wonder about why the man was here when he had a perfectly good bed down in the dungeons but his need for the bathroom outweighed anything else at the moment and so he stood up as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake him. 

As he put pressure on his ankle, he was pleased to not feel any pain at all. In fact, his ribs weren’t hurting anymore either. He walked into the walkway between the rows of beds and looked up at the clock. 2:19. He’d been in the hospital wing for twelve hours already! 

After taking care of his needs, Harry padded quietly back to his bed and took off his glasses once more, but just as he was snuggling back down into the covers, he heard Snape speak. “You’d better hope that Madam Pomfrey doesn’t catch you out of that bed. I have it on good authority that she’s not afraid to use a sticking charm on wayward patients who refuse to listen.”

Harry looked up at him. Snape’s eyes were still closed but he was no longer sleeping with his head down but rather had scooted a little further down into the chair and was resting his head on the back. “I had to go.” Harry defended in a whisper. “I can’t be in trouble for that.” 

“I don’t recall saying that you were,” Snape countered. “Go to sleep, Potter.” 

With a sigh, Harry pulled the covers back over his shoulders but didn’t close his eyes. 

After a moment or so, he rolled over onto his side so that he was facing Snape and could look out the window. “I’m not tired anymore.” He grumbled.

“Too bad, I am. Just close your eyes and try to sleep. Or at the very least, stay quiet.”

The silence lasted only a few minutes before Harry broke it again. “Professor?” He said, just above a whisper.

He could hear Snape give a long, drawn-out sigh. “Potter.”

“Thanks.” Harry continued to stare out the window at the stars. “For today, I mean. And...and I’m sorry for yelling at you.” 

Snape hummed and for a minute, Harry thought he might have fallen back asleep until the man spoke once more. “You’re not the first person to yell at me, Potter. Yesterday was extremely hard on you and I’m the last person who could fault you for your anger. I’m hardly going to be upset about it. Now, will you please, try to sleep before Madam Pomfrey comes in here and blames me for you being awake.” 

The professor’s words were heavy with sarcasm, but Harry took heed to them anyway. He closed his eyes and focused on taking deep breaths. A few minutes later, he began to feel sleep take over him once more. 

Chapter Text

Harry awoke the next morning feeling better than he had in weeks. Even better than the first night in his new bed in Snape’s quarters because this morning, he woke up with almost no pain. He was surprised to find that the only tenderness he felt came from his achy muscles from having slept for so long and from his ribs, though even that was down to just a slight soreness. 

He took a moment to stretch out on the bed, pulling his arms high above his head, giving a contented sigh when the movement didn’t cause him to gasp in pain. Sitting up, he reached for his glasses on the nightstand, threw back the covers and stood in search of the clothes he had been wearing the day before. Spotting them folded neatly on a chair beside the bed, he quickly grabbed them up. However, before he even had a chance to undo the first button on his pajama top, the curtains around his bed were pulled open to reveal a stern faced Madam Pomfrey carrying a tray of food.

“Oh, no you don’t.” She began as she sat the tray down on the small bedside table. “You get back into bed this instant, Mr. Potter. It is far too soon for you to be up.” 

“But I feel fine, really.” Harry tried to assure her but Madam Pomfrey simply shook her head and pointed to the bed. 

“No, Mr. Potter,” she repeated firmly. “You are going to get in bed and have your breakfast. After that, I’m going to run another diagnostic spell over you to assess your condition and then you are going to rest.” 

“Rest?!” Harry protested, crossing his arms over his chest as he scowled at the mediwitch. “All I’ve been doing is resting!”

“Because it’s exactly what you need.”

Harry shook his head. “What I need is to get out of here. I’m fine, honest.”

Madam Pomfrey sighed. “Mr. Potter, I am certainly not going to stand here and argue with you about this. You will do as I have said, or I will be forced to call Professor Snape and allow him to deal with you.”

Unfortunately, as Harry’s luck would have it, Snape chose that precise moment to enter the room. Harry groaned.

“That won’t be necessary, Madam Pomfrey.” He said in his usual cold tone as he matched Harry’s stance by crossing his own arms over his chest and glaring down at the boy. “Are you unable to follow the simplest of instructions, Potter?” 

“I’m fine,” he said again, though this time it was with less conviction than before. “I shouldn’t have to stay here.”

Snape turned to fully face Madam Pomfrey. “If you could allow me a moment with my young ward, Madam, I assure you that I will take care of this.”  

Madam Pomfrey merely inclined her head and said, “He needs to eat all his breakfast, Severus. Including his nutrient potion.” 

“You have my word,” Snape replied before she turned away from them and walked back to her office. 

When they heard her office door close with an ominous click, Snape looked back at Harry, his expression just as stern as it had been when he came in. “Into bed with you.” He ordered sharply. 

“Professor-” Harry started, but Snape held a hand up to silence him.

“Into. Bed.” His already dark eyes seemed to darken further as he glared down at him and with a sigh, Harry reluctantly did as he was told. 

Once he was back in bed, though he refused to get under the covers, choosing instead to simply sit against the headboard, Snape moved the tray table and its contents over to Harry so that he could eat. “Eat.” 

Harry looked down at the plate of food. Steaming porridge with fruit, buttered toast, strawberry jam, and sausages. Beside it sat a tall glass of juice and a smaller glass with what Harry assumed was the nutrient potion, though he thought it looked more like a creamy, vanilla milkshake. Admittedly, everything looked and smelled delicious and Harry’s mouth began to water at the sight of it. He picked up his spoon and took a small bite of porridge without looking up at Snape. 

Snape hadn’t moved from his position at the side of the bed but he did give an approving nod when Harry began to eat. 

“Was it unclear to you that I expected you to behave yourself? Did I give you any reason at all to think that it would be acceptable to argue with her?”

Harry swallowed a mouthful of food and kept his gaze lowered to the table. “No, sir,” he mumbled.

“Tell me then, Potter, what excuse could you possibly have for your behavior? What reasoning did you have for being difficult with her over something as trivial as eating breakfast?” 

Harry grit his teeth and declined to answer, but Snape was having none of that.

“Look at me and answer the question, Mr. Potter. Madam Pomfrey exhausted herself immensely yesterday while attempting to heal your wounds. Is this how you thank her?” 

Harry’s eyes snapped up and met his professor’s, guilt flooding his stomach at his words. “I didn’t mean to be difficult,” he said honestly. He bit his bottom lip as he tried to sort through his muddled thoughts. “I just hate being here.” He finally answered, his voice barely above a whisper as he dropped his gaze once more.

Snape’s mind immediately went back to the memories from his own time in the hospital wing and he let out a small, silent sigh. “You will apologize to her when she comes back and furthermore, you will do whatever she asks without so much as a hint of argument. Is that understood?” 

Harry looked up but quickly returned to staring at his food as he gave a short nod. “Yes, sir,” he answered, but Harry knew that he would have done that even without Snape telling him to. He really liked Madam Pomfrey and he felt awful for how he had acted. 

Seemingly satisfied, Snape pointed to his food and repeated his command to eat before taking a seat in the chair that he had slept in the night before. His own aching limbs seemed to relax as he settled into the softness of the overstuffed chair, which while comfortable to sit on, was decidedly less comfortable to sleep in. 

Madam Pomfrey had told him that there wasn’t any need to stay there considering that Harry was fine and would likely sleep through the night, yet Snape had declined her instruction to rest in his own bed. He told himself that one couldn’t be too careful where Potter was concerned and that it would just be better all around if he were there in case he did wake up. The last thing he wanted was to have to search the castle for the boy because he had decided to take a midnight stroll. 

And he had been right! Potter had gotten up during the night. Granted it had just been to use the loo and he had come right back, but Snape felt justified in his reasoning all the same. 

Looking up and noticing that Harry was nearly finished with his breakfast, Snape stood once more. “Drink all of that,” he motioned to the potion, “and then I will ask Madam Pomfrey to come back.” 

Harry picked up the glass without complaint and like he had yesterday, he took a small sniff and was pleased to find that it smelled like vanilla too. He brought it to his lips and began to drink it all. When it was empty, he placed the glass back on the table and Snape gave a nod before turning away from him. 

Harry had just taken his last bite of toast when they returned. As soon as he placed his fork down on the plate, the entire tray disappeared with a small pop. 

“Very good, Mr. Potter,” Madam Pomfrey said. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Harry shook his head and leaned back against the headboard once more. However, as he caught Snape’s eye and took in the expectant look the man was giving him, he sat up straighter and forced himself to look up at the mediwitch, “I’m sorry about earlier, Madam Pomfrey. I appreciate everything you did and I shouldn’t have acted like that.” 

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Potter,” she assured him in her usual no-nonsense tone, but as she raised her wand with a wave to straighten the bedcovers, Harry could have sworn he saw her give a small smile. 

“I’m going to run the last set of diagnostics on you, Mr. Potter, and I’ve spoken with Professor Snape who promises me that if everything comes back alright, he will make sure you rest for at least today if I allow you to go back to your quarters. Do I have your word as well?”

Harry nodded immediately. “Yes, ma’am. I promise.” 

“Alright then.” 

Just as he had done yesterday, Harry sat still while Madam Pomfrey waved her wand and performed the spell. This time, however, it only took a couple of minutes before she was done.

She read over the results before looking back up at Harry. “It seems everything has healed quite nicely, Mr. Potter. I imagine your ribs are still a bit tender but I’ll get you another small dose of pain-relieving potion and by the time it wears off, you should be good as new.” 

Harry nodded gratefully and Madam Pomfrey accioed the potion to her with another wave of her wand. Harry took it without complaint, determined to prove to Snape that he could do as he was told. He wasn’t sure why he cared what Snape thought, though. Still, it couldn’t hurt anything. 

When he was finished, he handed the empty vial back to her and she nodded. “Alright, I suppose I’ll release you into Professor Snape’s hands, but if I find out that you haven’t been resting, you can be sure that I will have you right back here.”

Harry nodded seriously, “Yes, ma’am.” Harry got out of bed and moved to pick up his clothes when Snape stopped him. 

“No need to change, Potter.” He said when Harry looked up questioningly. “You’ll just have to change back when we get to our rooms. I hardly think you want to spend your day resting in jeans.” 

“I’m not walking through the halls in my pajamas, Snape! Anyone could see me.”

“Professor.” Snape corrected though this time it seemed to be said more out of habit than anything else. “I’m sure we could find a bathrobe if you would prefer.” He smirked down at the boy, obviously enjoying his embarrassment. 

Harry could feel his cheeks heating up. “I think that would be worse! I don’t mind changing twice. Really.” 

Snape rolled his eyes. “Very well, but I’ll not hear a single argument from you when we get there. You’ll go straight back to pajamas and you’ll rest quietly all day.”

Harry nodded and Snape turned to wait outside for him. 

When they arrived back in the dungeons, Harry did as promised and changed into pajamas before climbing under the covers in his bed. Snape had magically stoked the fire and dimmed the lights before retreating back to the parlor where he relaxed in his armchair with a book. It wasn’t even ten o’clock and already he was exhausted. Had it really only been two and a half days since he’d found Potter roaming around Knockturn Alley? It already felt like an eternity.

Merlin, one of them wasn’t going to survive this summer. He was sure of it. 

What was he even supposed to do with the brat till September? He doubted he had enough homework to keep him busy for that long and then what? He supposed he could assign him extra potions work, but then he would have to hear his complaining constantly. And then there was all this business with Black. The infernal child was already asking questions. How long could he keep him in the dark before he started snooping around and found out on his own? 

On top of everything else, eventually, there would be the issue of finding him a suitable place to live permanently. Though it was unlikely that he would be rid of the boy before term started anyway, so they would have until next year to work that out. Snape wondered if Dumbledore had anyone in mind yet. He scoffed as he turned the page in his book. He doubted that very much. Chances are, if the old coot had it his way, Snape would be the one permanently stuck with the boy-who-lived-to-make-his-life-miserable. 

Snape gave a small shudder. There was absolutely no way that he was going to allow that to happen. He would personally interview every family himself if he had to. Snape could barely handle the idea of housing the boy for two months. He definitely couldn’t take him for the next four years! No, he thought, that simply can’t be allowed to happen. 

Snape was pulled from his thoughts then as Harry walked into the room. He looked up to see him nervously shifting from one foot to the other. “What do you need, Potter?” He asked sharply. 

“I’m bored,” Harry replied. 

“Read a book. You’re supposed to be resting.”

“Couldn’t I just rest out here? I promise I’ll be quiet. You won’t even know I’m here.” 

Snape snapped his book shut and raised an eyebrow at Harry. 

“Why on earth would you want to stay out here?” His voice was just as dour as always but there seemed to be an actual note of curiosity in his question. 

“I dunno.” Harry let his gaze drop to the floor as he picked at the hem of his shirt, twisting it round and round his finger before letting his loose again. “I just thought that I could…” He trailed off, realizing that he actually wasn’t sure why he wanted to be there in the first place. 

“Have you forgotten who I am?” Snape asked. “You hate me, remember?” 

Harry’s eyes snapped up and for a second, Snape thought he looked hurt before the normally bright green eyes darkened and a scowl set upon the young face. “Right,” Harry spat. “Let’s not forget that.” Harry then turned on his heel and left the room. 

Snape listened as Harry shut his bedroom door with just enough extra force that it was clear he was upset, but not enough that it could be considered slamming it. Apparently, that lesson at least was sticking with him. 

It was all the same to Snape. Merlin knew that the last thing he needed was for the boy to suddenly be trying to bond with him. But the thought brought Snape up short. That couldn’t have been what Potter was trying to do. Only yesterday he had actually said that he hated him. And it wasn’t as if the feelings weren’t mutual. There was no love lost between the two. This was nothing more than a temporary arrangement. He would shelter the boy for the summer. He would keep his promise to Dumbledore, and to Lily, and see to it that he was properly taken care of and kept safe. Potter didn’t need him to be any more than that. 

But those thoughts brought Snape up short and kept nagging at him like a dog with a bone. The look on Potter’s face, right before he left, had been a look that Snape recognized all too well. 

Rejection. 

But that couldn’t be right. For Potter to feel rejected by Snape it would mean that he had actually wanted him to let him stay. 

Snape rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his fingers in front of him as memories rose unbidden to his mind. Flashes of a very young boy standing nervously outside a closed room. His hand raised to knock only to hear a muffled, “Go away,” from the other side. 

He sat that way for many long moments before he abruptly stood up. He didn’t know why he was doing this and if someone asked him, he would promptly tell them, in no uncertain terms, to shove off. But Snape had to find out what the boy was feeling. If for no other reason than to set him straight about what he could expect. 

Snape gave a single knock on Harry’s bedroom door before opening it to find him lying on his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling. He wasted no time in what he had to say. 

“Pick a book to read quietly. I’ll not listen to any of your incessant chatter out here.”

Harry’s brows knit together as he looked back over to his professor. “What?” He asked.

“You heard me,” Snape replied as he turned away and shut the door.

Snape walked purposefully back to the parlor and sat down in his chair before picking his book up to continue reading where he had left off. He told himself that he didn’t care in the slightest what Potter decided to do, he could either join him here or continue to stew in his room. It was up to him but Snape felt as if he had done his part. 

And a few minutes later, when Harry made his way into the room carrying the book Snape had given him the day before, Snape didn’t even lookup. Instead, he waved his wand once Harry had settled on the couch and Harry’s blanket and pillow materialized out of thin air before dropping down onto him. 

“It’s not that cold.” Harry weakly protested even as he pulled his legs up onto the couch and burrowed down a bit deeper into the warmth of the blanket.

“It’s a dungeon, it’s always cold,” Snape replied, still not taking his eyes off of his book. “Besides, you’re not wearing socks again. How do you expect to not catch a cold when you refuse to even dress properly?” 

“I’m sure you’ve got a nasty potion to fix a cold,” Harry shot back with a smirk.

That did get Snape’s attention and he looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. “I do, though I’m not sure I’d give it to you if you insist on not taking care of yourself in the first place. I might think you wanted to get sick and far be it for me not to give Dumbledore’s golden boy exactly what he wants.”

Harry opened his book to hide his grin before saying, “Oh no, we can’t have that. I wouldn’t want you to get into trouble with your dad or anything on my account.” 

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Enough of your cheek. Read.”

And so they did. For the rest of the day, Snape and Harry sat in the parlor, content in the silence that was only broken when Harry would ask something that Snape would sigh and eventually answer. They had lunch and dinner in the kitchen as usual and afterward, Snape ordered tea for them from Jenka. Harry left the couch and moved to the other armchair before he once again picked the cup with the red outline and began to drink it slowly knowing that once he was done, Snape would probably send him to get ready for bed. 

He was right and Harry went without a fuss.

The next morning, Snape woke with a start. He had always been a light sleeper but even if he hadn’t been, he was sure that the noise coming from his kitchen would have awoken him anyway. He scowled. If that brat was burning his kitchen down, he would strangle him and face Dumbledore later.

Snape threw off his blankets and grabbed his dressing gown from where it lay at the foot of his bed. He pulled it on himself as he marched to the door of his bedroom, but when he opened it, he was surprised to see Harry coming out of his own room. 

“Who’s that?” Harry whispered as he moved to stand next to the older man.

Snape raised a finger to his mouth to indicate that Harry should be quiet as he began to walk down the dark hallway to the parlor and then onwards into the kitchen. However, as soon as they got there, they both came to a sudden halt at the sight before them.

There, in Snape’s kitchen at seven-thirty in the morning, was Minerva McGonagall cooking breakfast. She looked up when she heard them come in and smiled warmly at them. 

“Oh, good!” She turned down the heat on the gas stove before turning fully to face them. “You’re up! Any longer and I was afraid I was going to have to come to wake you myself.” 

Snape and Harry cast side-long glances at each other before Snape stepped closer to her.

“Exactly what, may I ask, are you doing here?”

McGonagall raised an eyebrow at him, in the exact same way that she usually looked at Harry and Ron when they did something she was about to take House Points for, and Harry took a step back. 

“What does it look like, Severus?” She asked. “It is Thursday morning, is it not?” As if that answered everything. Then, before he could even reply, she went on. “I thought that with everything that has happened lately, we could have breakfast here this morning. Now, Mr. Potter, please be so kind as to set the table.”

Harry practically jumped into action and went in search of plates, glasses, and silverware. He opened the first cabinet he came to but found it only contained a bottle of Firewhiskey and a couple of tumbler glasses.

“Severus,” McGonagall said when she saw the whiskey, “you really shouldn’t keep whiskey out in the open now that Harry lives here.”

“Next cabinet, Potter.” Snape said before turning back to her, “It’s not out in the open, it’s in a cabinet and surely Potter knows not to touch it.” 

Harry opened the next cabinet and grinned before schooling his features and pulling out plates and glasses. “Can I try it one day, Professor?” He asked, seriously as he moved to the table.

Snape scowled. “If you touch that even one day before you turn seventeen, you won’t live to regret it, Potter.” 

And the next second, the cabinet opened and the bottle flew through the air and out of the kitchen, presumably to some hiding spot that only Snape knew about. Harry’s grin grew wider but Snape just turned back as if nothing happened and spoke to McGonagall once more.

“You know, Jenka usually does all the cooking here. There’s really no need for you to do all the work when I could just-” She cut him off. 

“Severus Snape, it is not Jenka’s place to take care of every little thing for you. Especially things that we both know that you are perfectly capable of doing yourself.” McGonagall admonished sternly as she shook her head. “Honestly, I never should have let her spoil you so much when you were younger.” 

Hearing this, Harry jerked his head around to see Snape staring wide-eyed at McGonagall, the beginnings of a flush appearing on his pale skin. The sight of the most hated Hogwarts professor getting scolded in his own kitchen by a woman that Harry had only just learned was his adopted mother, was too much for the boy and he accidentally dropped the plate he was holding, letting it clatter noisily to the table.

Both adults immediately turned towards him.

“Sorry!” He blurts out quickly while picking up the plate.

 Snape looked as if he were about to deliver a scathing remark but McGonagall’s brows knitted together and she looked at the table in concern. “Mr. Potter, why have you only set two places? Do you not feel like eating?”

Harry’s eyes widened and he began to fumble over his words as Snape’s gaze also zeroed in on the two place settings. “I...well, I thought that...I mean-”

“You thought wrong, Potter.” Snape suddenly interrupted him as realization dawned on him. “You are going to sit at the table like a civilized human being instead of slouching off to eat in some corner of your room like a common mountain troll.”

Harry didn’t understand what Snape was talking about. He had never eaten in his room and he hadn’t expected to today, either. He had only set two places because he thought that McGonagall was only cooking for her and Snape and he had intended to let them eat in peace. It was the least he could do really after being so much trouble since he’d arrived here. But the look Snape was giving him made it clear that that wasn’t going to be an option.

“But I-” He tried once more but Snape interrupted him just as quickly.

“But nothing, Potter. We’ve already had this conversation,” he said with a raised eyebrow as he crossed his arms. “You will eat with us and you will eat everything on your plate. Including your nutrient potion.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry had finally caught on. Somehow Snape must have known what he had been thinking. Was this his way of telling him, without his Head of House realizing, that he didn’t have to leave them alone and stay in his room? 

Whatever the reason, Harry wasn’t going to argue with the man and so he returned to the cabinet to pull out a third plate. 

“And when you’re finished,” Snape continued, “go and get dressed properly. You’re not walking around in pajamas all day.” 

Harry couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. “I can’t but you can?” 

Snape looked down at himself and for the first time seemed to realize that he was also still wearing pajamas. He turned to McGonagall. “Excuse us both.” He said before simply turning and walking from the kitchen. Harry waited till he was out the door before he looked over at McGonagall still standing beside the stove, stirring whatever she had in the pot.

“Of course he would have black pajamas.” 

McGonagall gave Harry a wink and waved her wand towards the door. 

“Turn them back this instant!” Harry heard Snape shout from the next room and he took off running towards the noise. When he got into the parlor, Snape was already stalking back to the kitchen, now wearing bright turquoise pajamas.

Chapter Text

By the time Snape and Harry came back into the kitchen, McGonagall had the table laden down with food. 

“I wasn’t sure what you would rather have, Harry, so I just made everything,” she said when she noticed them both just staring at the table.  

If Harry was surprised by the copious amounts of food, it was nothing compared to hearing McGonagall call him by his first name. 

“Well don’t just stand there,” she said when neither of them moved, “sit down and start eating.”

 And so they did. Snape took his usual seat with Harry on his right, while McGonagall sat across from them. 

As she unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap, she looked over to Harry and asked, “How are your summer assignments coming along? I hope you’re not going to leave them till the last minute.” 

Harry shook his head. “I’ve already finished my History of Magic essay. All I have left is Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions.” 

“That shouldn’t be too difficult.” She said as she spread jam onto a piece of toast. “That would be the great thing about staying with a professor over the summer. I’ll be around should you need help with Transfiguration of course, but just think of how your potions grade could improve if Severus were to give you extra help this summer. And his lab is just down the hall so you wouldn’t even need to go over to the classroom.” 

The very last thing Harry wanted to do was take extra potions lessons with Snape over the summer, but luckily, he was saved from answering when Snape seemed to choke on his coffee. “I beg your pardon.” He finally said once his airways had been cleared and he was no longer coughing. “Potter isn’t to step one toe into my personal lab. I’ve seen the dismal potions he produces in class. If I were to let him in there, he’d likely blow up the whole place.” 

Harry blushed deeply, he didn’t agree with that at all. His potions weren’t any worse than Neville’s, though he supposed that wasn’t saying very much. 

McGonagall gave a short laugh, “If that’s the worst Harry does, I’ll say you got off lucky. I seem to remember a certain fifteen-year-old who blew off the entire backside of our house the summer before sixth year!” 

This time it was Harry who nearly choked on his pumpkin juice. “You?!” He exclaimed, “You messed up a potion so bad that you blew up part of your house?!” 

Snape glared. “That is a complete exaggeration.” 

“It’s not and you know it,” McGonagall said, not even trying to hide her smile. “I forget though, what was it that you were working on, Severus?” 

Harry wasn’t sure that he would answer at first, as Snape seemed to be trying to ignore them in favor of opening his newspaper and holding it firmly in front of his face, though finally, after several long minutes in which McGonagall patiently waited, he lowered it once more and replied, “I was experimenting with different ways to counterbalance the side effects of Euphoria.”

McGonagall hummed. “That’s right.” She speared a piece of sausage with her fork and said, “And how long were you on restriction for experimenting alone that time?” 

Though Harry could tell that it pained him greatly to do so, Snape grit his teeth and said, “A month.” 

Harry’s eyes widened. Snape blowing up a potion was great, but Snape getting into trouble for it was bloody fantastic! He couldn’t wait to tell Ron and Hermione about this!

“Ah, yes, and I believe you also earned the privilege of cleaning up the backyard.”

“Without magic.” Snape rolled his eyes, “I had to spend every weekend home from school that month just to get it done.” He took another long sip of his coffee and said, “You’re enjoying this.”

McGonagall smiled and Harry thought he could see a twinkle in her eye that matched Dumbledores. “Oh, very much so.” 

And with that, Snape brought the paper back up and began to ignore them both. McGonagall talked to Harry about school, his friends, and quidditch and Snape continued to read, though every few minutes, his right hand would reach around for his coffee mug. 

Harry sat on his bed after dinner on Friday night with a book in his lap that he wasn’t even attempting to read. Instead, he was lost in his thoughts about the last few days. It really hadn’t even been a week since he had come here?! The last couple of days seemed to pass both fast and slow for Harry. In the mornings when he had to work on his assignments, it felt like those two hours would never be over, but then his free time seemed to speed by. 

Snape had allowed him to go and visit Hagrid again on Thursday afternoon and on Friday he spent his time finishing the pirate book. He had found that he liked it very much and instead of giving it back to Snape, he put it on his bookshelf, figuring that if Snape wanted it back, he could come and get it himself. 

Harry was hoping that he could go flying tomorrow since it was Saturday, but he had barely seen Snape all day. They had had breakfast together as had become their routine over the few days that Harry had been there, but then Snape had left Harry to follow his schedule while he retreated to his lab to work. He hadn’t even been there for lunch or dinner, though Jenka had made sure that Harry ate with or without him. She had even given him an extra scoop of pudding for dessert since Snape wasn’t there to say he couldn’t have the extra sugar.  

One quick knock on his door pulled Harry from his thoughts. He looked up just as Snape opened the door. “Did you eat?” He asked.

Harry nodded. “Yes.”

“And you took your potion?” 

Harry put his book down and looked up at the professor with a raised eyebrow. “Would Jenka have told you if I hadn’t?” 

“Of course,” Snape replied with his own raised brow as he crossed his arms over his chest. For a moment Harry wondered why the man always had to stand so straight all the time. Didn’t he ever relax? “Well?” Snape prodded when Harry didn’t answer.

“Why bother asking if you already know that I did?” 

“To see if you’ll be truthful.” Then he turned on his heel but said over his shoulder, “If you think you can contain that cheek, you may come and have some tea before bed.” 

Harry gave a soft grin as he got up and followed the man into the parlor. He wasn’t sure when having tea with Snape had become something he looked forward to, but he found he quite liked it. He supposed that if he had had tea with him while at school, he definitely would have hated it, but for some reason, it was different here. 

Sure, Snape still took every opportunity to point out everything Harry did wrong, but now it was for things like not picking up his clothes off the floor or eating enough vegetables. And Harry guessed that that was okay. Those were the same kinds of things that Mrs. Weasley said to him and Ron whenever he was at the burrow last year. Though when Mrs. Weasley said it, it was always soft and with a “Harry, dear,” tacked on to it. 

There was nothing soft about Snape saying, “Put your clothes away, Potter, or I’ll bewitch them all to hang from the Astronomy Tower like flags.” 

Still, it wasn’t all bad. 

When he took a seat in the other armchair, (he had secretly been calling it his) Harry took the red-rimmed teacup and filled it with tea before sitting back into the soft leather. Snape had done the same and for a while, they sat in silence until Harry remembered that he wanted to ask Snape about flying.

He sat up straighter and asked in as polite a voice as he could muster, “Professor, would it be alright if I went flying tomorrow?”

Snape turned his gaze from the flickering flames in the fireplace and inclined his head. “We’ll see. How much work did you finish today?”

Harry shifted in his seat. In truth, he hadn’t been able to concentrate very well and had spent most of the two hours staring out of the bewitched window in his room.

“I...well, I mean...I finished my charms essay.” He finished weakly.

Harry watched as Snape’s mouth set in a firm line and he mentally cursed himself for not working more. 

“Potter, you were nearly finished with the Charms essay yesterday. Did you do anything else today?” 

Harry wanted to lie. He really really wanted to lie, but he knew that it would be too easy for Snape to find out the truth and he didn’t want to get into serious trouble this early into the summer. So he bit his bottom lip as he looked away from the hard gaze of his professor and shook his head. “No, sir.” He admitted quietly.

Snape stared at him for a long moment as if in deep thought, before finally giving a small sigh. “You will begin your transfiguration homework tomorrow morning after breakfast. Then, if by lunch, you’ve made significant progress and you have behaved yourself, I may allow you to fly for a bit before dinner.”

Harry smiled brightly. “I will. I promise.”

“Do you live in the castle year-round?” Harry asked Snape the next morning during breakfast. 

Snape eyed the boy over the top of his coffee cup but only said in a bored tone, “You sure are chatty this morning.” 

It was true, Harry had woken in an especially good mood, probably because the bewitched window was showing a beautiful, cloudless day outside and he couldn’t wait to go out. He had dressed quickly, even remembering to put on socks and shoes, before heading out to the kitchen where Snape was already seated, his face hidden as usual behind the Daily Prophet. 

Harry had almost immediately started talking. First about the weather and how nice it was going to be to get to go flying later, then when Snape had finished with the paper, Harry had asked if the Daily Prophet was like muggle newspapers and did it have the comic strips inside. Snape had said that it did, and in an effort to get the boy to shut up, he took that page out and passed it to Harry, who spent the next few minutes quietly reading and laughing at them. 

Now, even that seems to have been unable to keep the attention of him if he was going to start asking questions about Snape himself. 

Harry shrugged his shoulders and took a bite of his eggs. “If I don’t talk to someone, I’m going to go mental.” 

“You’ll go to your room if you keep talking with food in your mouth.” Snape snapped.

Harry swallowed his food. “Sorry. But you didn’t answer my question.”

Snape brought his cup back to his lips, but before he took a sip he said, “No, I do not. I have a house outside London that I usually spend my summers in.”

Harry perked up at that. “Why haven’t you gone there this year? Is it because of me?” The idea that he was keeping Snape from being at home didn’t sit well with Harry but he wasn’t sure why.

“I haven’t gone there because I have quite a bit to do here.” Snape answered, “But yes, also because you’re here and Hogwarts is the safest place for you.” 

“Will we go there later?” 

Snape shook his head, “I do not know. It’s possible but it really doesn’t matter either way. Hogwarts is home, too.” 

Harry was kept from saying anything else by the stack of letters that appeared out of thin air and landed on the table in front of Snape. 

“So that’s how you get letters down here,” Harry said, watching as Snape picked up the small stack of envelopes. 

Snape nodded absently, “When the owls drop them off up in the Great Hall, any addressed to the dungeons are redirected magically to come to me.” 

Suddenly, Harry’s eyes widened in alarm and he leaped from his chair.

“Oh, no!” He exclaimed, “What happened to Hedwig?! I haven’t seen her since I sent her off to Ron’s house!” 

Snape didn’t even look up. “She’s in the owlery, where she has been since you arrived here. Though I’m sure she’s not pleased that you’re only just remembering her.”

“I have to go and see her,” said Harry even as he was already moving towards the door.

“It will have to wait,” Snape said before he was gone. “You can see her later.” He held out an envelope to Harry and said, “Here’s your letter from school.” 

Harry sat back down, though reluctantly, and took the letter. “I’m already here. Why send a letter?” Harry rolled his eyes when Snape only hummed in response as he read over his own letter.

Opening the envelope, Harry pulled out two pieces of parchment. The first one was the usual letter from school letting him know to be at Kings Cross on September 1st. Scanning to the bottom though, Harry saw that it also said that third years were allowed to go into the village on certain weekends with a signed permission form. Harry glanced at the other parchment and wondered if Snape would have to be the one to sign it in order for him to go.

 Deciding he might as well go ahead and ask, he sat back to wait until Snape was through sorting through his own mail. 

When at last, Snape put down the last letter, a grim expression on his face, Harry plucked up the courage to ask about Hogsmeade. 

“Professor, this says third years can visit the village. Will you sign it?” Harry asked as he held out the permission form.

Snape looked over at him but didn’t take the form. “No.” He answered sharply. “You will not be going.”

Harry blanched. “W-why? You didn’t even consider it.” 

“I don’t need to,” Snape said, tapping the table so that it cleared itself. “You won’t be going. Sirius Black was reported to have been seen in the village again.” 

“So!” Harry didn’t understand what that had to do with him being able to go. “If everyone else is going while he’s escaped, why can’t I?”

“Watch your cheek, Potter. Everyone else is not my concern. You are and until he has been caught, you will remain in the castle.”

“That’s not fair!” Harry exclaimed, standing up so fast that he almost knocked his chair over in the process. “What’s Sirius Black got to do with me? I have the right to know, Snape! You can’t just keep things from me!”

“Potter,” snapped Snape, “I’m warning you, you will cease yelling at me right now or you will stand in a corner until you can speak in a civilized tone.” 

“Not bloody likely, Snape!” Harry shouted, “You can’t keep me from going!”

Snape was fuming. How dare the brat show such disrespect! He wasn’t about to put up with it and if it took standing in a corner for Potter to realize that, then that is exactly what he’ll do!

In two long strides, Snape was around the table and had a hold of Harry’s elbow. Harry tried to instinctively pull away but Snape’s hold was strong and he began to lead him out of the kitchen and into the parlor. 

“I think you’ll find Potter, that I can and will.” Suddenly they were standing in the far corner of the room and Snape waved his wand causing the table that sat there to move down along the wall, freeing up space. “As long as you live here, you will do what I say, when I say it. I hope that I’ve made that abundantly clear to you now.” He lectured as he pushed Harry firmly, yet surprisingly gently, into the corner so that his nose almost touched the space where the two walls met. “You will stand here quietly for twenty minutes or until you have calmed down enough to keep a civil tongue in your head.” 

He let go of Harry’s arm only to find the boy immediately turning to face him. Harry crossed his arms and glared up at Snape. “No!” he said, angrily. His face was red and he felt unusually hot. He didn’t like this. Not one bit. He wasn’t some little kid that Snape could just order about.

“Turn around.” Snape hissed.

“Sod off, Snape.” Harry snapped back, pure venom coating his voice. 

Snape took a step back, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Alright, you’ve just lost any chance you had to go flying today."

"But professor, I-"

"Would you like to make that two days?"

           Suddenly all the fight left Harry and his shoulders slumped in defeat as he shook his head. "No, sir."

"I thought not. Instead, you can spend the morning in your room. Maybe by lunch, you'll have learned how to properly address your elders." 

Harry looked miserable but he only hung his head at Snape's words. 

Snape nodded. “Very well. Now, you’ll spend your twenty minutes in the corner, and then you may come out.”

“I’m not a kid and you shouldn’t treat me like one.” Harry argued, though there wasn’t much bite behind his words anymore.

“Then don’t act like one.” Snape countered simply. “Turn around.” 

Harry looked as if he would have liked to continue arguing, but finally, with one last sigh, he turned to face the wall. “This is stupid,” he grumbled as he leaned his head against the corner.

“No talking,” said Snape from behind him, “and stand up straight with your hands down. None of this leaning against the wall business.”

Harry did as he was told. This was definitely new territory for him. The only punishments he had ever had were Uncle Vernon’s kind that usually left Harry in considerable pain or the kind he received at Hogwarts, which was usually just detentions or loss of points. He couldn’t imagine how standing in a corner for twenty minutes was supposed to be considered a punishment. 

Twelve minutes later, Harry was seriously reconsidering his view on it. 

He was tired of standing so still. Tired of looking at the same two walls. Tired of being able to hear Snape behind him but without being able to see him. He was pretty sure he was reading a book though because it sounded as if a page was being turned every so often. 

Of course, Harry thought, I’m standing in a bloody corner like a toddler and he’s reading a book as if nothing’s wrong!

Harry lifted his right foot and balanced the toe of his trainer on the white baseboard. 

“Put your foot down.” Snape almost immediately chided from behind him. “You’ll scuff the wood.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’ll scuff the wood.” He mocked under his breath.

“No talking, Potter.”

Harry tried to stand still, he really did, but after another minute or so, he began to fidget again. He brought his hand up to absently scratch at his neck, then pushed his glasses up higher on his nose, shifting his weight from foot to foot. 

“I hope you’re thinking about why you’re there.” Snape said as he turned another page. 

Because you’re a bloody git. Harry thought but had the sense not to say aloud. You didn’t have to yell at him though, piped a voice in Harry’s head. His conscious he supposed. Like that little cricket from the muggle movie that Dudley used to watch. Harry told the voice to shove off. 

Finally, after an amount of time that Harry was sure was more than twenty minutes, Snape called him out of the corner but motioned for him to come and sit in the other armchair while he stood up. 

“Alright, Potter,” he started, “do you think you can have a conversation like an intelligent young man, or do you need more time?” 

What kind of question is that? Harry thought. “Yes, sir.” He answered. 

“Very good.” Snape nodded. “Now, I know you want answers, and I intend to give them to you, but it will not be right now.”

Harry opened his mouth to protest but Snape held his hand up to silence him. “No, Potter, as your guardian, it is my decision when you learn this information. For now, all you need to know is that it is imperative that you do as you're told and stay within the bounds. Sirius Black is dangerous and no one knows exactly what he is after but we do know that he was a follower of you-know-who and that alone is enough to cause worry when it comes to you. Especially if the last two years are anything to go by. So I will say it once more, Potter, until he is caught, you will not be going to Hogsmeade.”

Harry sighed. “Fine. But if he’s caught will I be able to go?” 

“That is something that we can discuss if that time comes, however, I don’t imagine that it would be a problem.” Harry nodded at the glimmer of hope. “Now,” Snape continued, “about that appalling behavior you have shown so far this morning.”

“I’m sorry,” said Harry immediately. “It won’t happen again.” 

Snape glared at him for a long moment before eventually giving a small nod. “See to it that it doesn’t. I absolutely will not tolerate being yelled at and disrespected in my own home, Potter. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered as his gaze dropped to his knees when it became too hard to meet Snape’s eyes. 

Snape turned away slightly, “Then that is all we will say on the matter. Now, I believe you have a room to get to until lunch.”

Harry nodded and stood up. “Can I come out at lunch though?” He asked.

“I will come and get you when it’s time to eat. In the meantime, I will be in my lab, and should you need anything, call Jenka. If it’s something she can’t handle, she will come and get me.”

“Okay,” Harry said before leaving Snape alone in the parlor. 

Harry had been in his room for about an hour now and already he was bored. He had tried reading, writing letters to his friends, and working on his transfiguration homework but nothing could keep his focus. His eyes kept drifting to the window. 

From it, he could see the quidditch pitch and that only made Harry want to go flying even more. Honestly, how had he managed to muck up the most perfect day for flying?

It wasn’t even his fault, really, Harry thought to himself, If Snape had just signed his permission form, none of this would have happened. But no, Snape had to be his usual awful self and take away the one thing that Harry desperately wanted to do. And of course, it would only be him that was kept back. Probably Ron and Hermione’s parents had signed their forms without a second's hesitation. 

Harry groaned as he dropped down onto the bed and lay back to stare at the ceiling, grumbling quietly to himself, “And Snape will probably just stay in his lab all day, not even caring that I’m stuck in here. Greasy git.” Harry sat back up, a thought just occurred to him.  

Snape was going to stay in his lab until lunchtime. He’d said so himself. 

Harry looked out the window again at the bright blue sky, practically taunting him at this point, then over to the clock on his desk. It was just now about ten thirty. If he snuck out now, he could probably have about an hour to fly, and then sneak back inside before lunch which wasn’t until noon. Snape wouldn’t have even left his lab by then so he would never know! 

Without giving himself time to talk himself out of it, Harry stood up and made his way quietly to the door. He opened it and stuck his head into the hallway, listening for any sounds that would mean Snape wasn’t in his lab. When he heard none, he carefully crept out of his room and down the hall to the parlor. He spied the closet where he knew his broom was kept before glancing back over his shoulder just in case, then he opened the closet door and pulled out his Nimbus. 

To his credit, Harry did take a second to think about how Snape would murder him if he was caught, however, he quickly pushed that thought aside as he made his way to the front door of their quarters and eased it open before slipping outside. 

And then he was free. 

Harry quickly made his way through the corridors and halls, just barely avoiding Peeves as he ducked into a classroom. He waited until he heard him pass by before he dared open the classroom door and continue on his way.

Once he was safely outside, Harry wasted no time in mounting his broom and kicking off, sending himself soaring up into the sky.

Harry steered his broom towards the quidditch pitch. The last thing he needed was for someone to see him flying so close to the school. 

As he flew higher and higher, Harry felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. This high up, how can anything be such a big deal? 

Harry flew around the goalposts and then turned down into a dive. He was going faster and faster, grinning wildly as the wind whipped across his face, and at the last second, he gave a great pull on the broomstick and leveled out straight again. It was then that he heard the barking of a dog and he turned on the spot in search of it. 

At first, Harry couldn’t find it anywhere and so he flew up higher to get a better vantage point, but still, it took five more minutes to spot the big, black dog from where it stood in the shadows at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. It was barking like mad and Harry thought it seemed as if it were trying to get his attention. For a moment, he thought it was the same dog he had seen the night he’d left the Dursleys, but there was no way that it could have traveled so far and it certainly couldn’t have ended up at Hogwarts. 

Harry turned his broom towards the forest to try and get a better look at the dog but suddenly Harry felt the air around him grow instantly cold. He looked up at the sky only to see that the bright blue had gone dark and was covered with thick, heavy, grey clouds. Before he had a chance to think much of this sudden change, Harry felt his broomstick turn cold and he looked down to see ice crystals forming along the handle. He could see his breath coming in small puffs of air and his teeth began to chatter. 

Harry could still hear the dog barking but it seemed to be very far away in the distance. He jerked his head around but he couldn’t make anything out because of the fog that was rolling across the pitch, but then suddenly, he thought he knew why. 

Emerging from the fog were three figures wearing ragged, hooded, black cloaks. Harry’s eyes widened and as they began to fly towards him, he just managed to turn his broom away and fly up and away from them. But the figures were fast and without warning, one was in front of him. Harry felt his breath leave him in gasps as an instant cold took over his body, making him numb. As the figure drew closer, Harry could see it reaching a scaly, grey skeleton-like hand out towards him.

 Harry felt his eyes roll back in his head and he unknowingly let go of the broom as the screaming started. 

Chapter Text

When Harry woke up next, he was in the same bed he had stayed in a few days before up in the hospital wing. He could hear people whispering near the foot of his bed and so he kept his eyes tightly shut so that they wouldn’t know he was awake. It sounded like Snape and Dumbledore, but there was a third voice that he didn’t recognize. 

“I thought you said that the dementors couldn’t come onto the grounds.” Snape was saying, his tone icily cold. 

“That was the promise that Cornelious made me.” Dumbledore said, “I will be speaking with him about it as soon as I leave here, but I wanted to make sure that Harry was alright before I left.”

Harry cracked his eyes open the smallest bit so that he could see, though his vision was blurry without his glasses. He could just make out the three men. Dumbledore had his back to him but he could see Snape and the other man clearly. 

Snape looked livid and Harry could guess why. He couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid! Snape was going to grind him up into potion ingredients for this! After everything that had happened this morning, today was just not his day.

The man standing beside Snape was tall and thin. He had sandy brown hair and he seemed almost as pale as Snape. Harry wondered if he spent most of his time in a dungeon as well. Then he absentmindedly wondered how long it would take before Harry himself lost all his color and became just as pale as his guardian. 

Dumbledore turned to the man then and his voice pulled Harry from his runaway thoughts. 

“Remus, I believe I can speak for Severus and myself both when I say that we are so glad that you arrived here when you did. If you hadn’t seen the dementors and Harry, I shudder to think of what could have happened.”

Snape gave a curt nod but otherwise said nothing. 

Yeah, right, Harry thought, he’s probably more upset that I didn’t manage to fall to my death and save him the trouble of killing me himself. 

The man called, Remus spoke quietly and Harry had to strain to hear his words. “Nasty creatures, dementors,” he said, then he held out a bag towards Snape. “I managed to find this, though I’m not sure it’s even repairable.”

Harry’s eyes went wide for a split second before he snapped them back shut. He had a sinking feeling that he knew exactly what was in that bag yet he hoped with everything in him that he was wrong. 

Harry could practically feel Snape glaring at him as he spoke next, “Very well, though I expect it will likely be quite some time before Mr. Potter has any need for it again.”

Harry’s heart sank, there was no question as to what was in that bag now. Not that it mattered. He would never fly again if Snape had anything to say about it, and that was assuming that the man didn’t kill him in the first place. 

“Well, I shall be off,” Dumbledore was saying, “Severus, please don’t be too hard on the boy. You know that all of this is an adjustment for him.”

“I’ve already told you, Headmaster, I will not coddle the boy.” 

Harry could hear Dumbledore’s heavy sigh and internally thanked the man for even trying on his behalf. 

“I suppose I’ll be leaving now, too.” Remus said, “I hope Harry gets to feeling better soon. Make sure he has some chocolate, will you.” 

 “I am perfectly capable of taking care of the boy, Lupin,” Snape snapped, “When I need your opinion, I’ll be sure to ask for it.”

“Severus.” Dumbledore’s own voice sounded low, without the lightness that usually accompanied it, though Harry didn’t dare open his eyes in order to see what was happening. 

“It was only a suggestion, Severus.” Harry heard Remus say but Snape didn’t respond and after another minute had passed, he assumed that they were gone. Leaving Harry alone with Snape.

“You can stop pretending to be asleep now, Potter.” Snape suddenly said from just beside the bed. “I saw your eyes open a moment ago. However, if you would like to keep up the charade, I can just as easily have this discussion here instead of back in our quarters.” 

That got Harry’s attention. He opened his eyes and then dug his hands into the mattress in an effort to sit himself up properly. The very last thing he wanted was for Madam Pomfrey to hear whatever it was that Snape had in store for him. 

“How are you feeling?” 

Harry didn’t look up to meet Snape’s gaze, instead, he seemed to find the pattern on his quilt very interesting as he began to idly trace over it with his fingers.

“Tired, I guess,” he mumbled, “Those were- they were dementors?”

 Snape gave a small sigh. “They were.” Then he reached over to the bedside table and picked up a small chunk of chocolate before handing it to Harry who took it but didn’t eat any of it.

“Eat it.” Snape said, “It really will help you feel better.”

When Harry took a small bite, Snape left to get Madam Pomfrey. 

They both came back a few minutes later and by then, Harry had eaten most of the chocolate and did feel marginally better. Though he was sure that the feeling would be short-lived. It was almost enough for him to hope that Madam Pomfrey would make him stay in the hospital wing for the night. Almost. 

Harry didn’t have any such luck anyway. The mediwitch did mention the benefits of him spending a night there, Snape was quick to assure her that Harry would be fine with him and that if anything happened, he would be sure to floo call her immediately. 

So ten minutes later, Harry and Snape walked quietly into their quarters. 

Harry immediately started to head towards his room but Snape’s sharp tone stopped him in place. “On the couch, Potter.” 

Harry glanced back at the irate Potions Master before giving a loud sigh and returning to the couch. He sat against the arm in the corner but kept his focus on his knees. 

“Where were you supposed to be today, Potter?” Snape asked in that quiet, stern voice he sometimes used in class when someone royally mucked up a potion.

“In my room,” Harry answered softly. 

“Look at me.” Harry did so reluctantly. “Why were you supposed to be in your room?”

“You know why. Why do you want me to say it?” The boy snapped.

“Answer the question, Potter,” Snape went on, apparently unfazed by Harry’s outburst. “Why were you sent to your room this morning?”

Harry was fuming. He didn’t see what this had to do with anything but Snape clearly wasn’t going to let it go so with a huff, Harry admitted, “Because I was disrespectful when I yelled at you for not signing my Hogsmeade form.” 

“Very good,” Snape said with a nod, though he was actually quite proud that the boy had remembered the lesson he had been trying to teach that morning. “So even though you were already being punished, you still snuck out of your room and left the castle to go flying. Something I had already told you that you couldn’t do.”

Harry nodded glumly, “Yes, sir.”

Snape took a step back and ran a hand down his face. He was certain that he hadn’t felt this tired in ages. He looked back down at Harry who once more had his head bowed. What was he supposed to do now? Honestly, Dumbledore had too much faith in him. 

“Tell me, Potter,” Snape said suddenly, causing Harry to jerk his head up at the sound, “do you have any idea what those dementors could have done to you had Professor Lupin not come along when he did?” Harry shook his head. “There is a reason that dementors guard Azkaban. They feed off of humans by sucking all the light and happiness from them. They have the ability to suck the soul right out of them, leaving them nothing but an empty shell.” Harry’s green eyes were wide and he had gone noticeably paler as Snape went on, “Had he not come along, Potter, it is very possible that they could have done the same to you. They have no real masters. They obey only those who supply them with what they want. At Azkaban, they have a never-ending supply of people to feed off of, but here, Dumbledore has forbidden them to come onto the grounds. He has all but cut off their supply. When you were out there flying, they took that as an opportunity to take what they wanted.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered. 

“Good.” Snape replied, “Because if I ever find that you have disobeyed me and put yourself in such danger again, you won’t see the outside of these quarters for anything but classes for a month! Is that perfectly clear, Potter?” 

Harry shrunk down into the cushions. “Yes, sir.”

Snape nodded and turned towards the fireplace as he took a deep breath. “As it is, you are grounded for the next week.” He didn’t need to see Harry to know that he had deflated even further at these words. This would be the first time that Harry had ever had to serve such a punishment and if he were being honest, Snape wasn’t looking forward to dealing with the learning curve that this would undoubtedly bring. “If I can’t trust you to behave and stay where I put you for a couple of hours, then I suppose I will just need to keep a closer eye on you. Therefore, until I say otherwise, you will remain with me at all times.”

“What?!” Harry exclaimed. “I’m already with you every day!”

Snape turned around and glared at Harry, who glared right back for longer than even Snape thought he would. Eventually, though, Harry crossed his arms over his chest and slumped back down into the couch, letting out a great breath as he did so. 

“What that means, Mr. Potter,” Snape continued coldly, “is that we will have meals together when I need to be in my lab, you will accompany me and do your schoolwork at my desk, and any other place that I need to go until you are sent to bed, you will come with me.” 

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep in my room too, sir?” Harry said sarcastically, “Who knows what mischief I’ll get up to while I’m sleeping? Better watch me then, as well.” 

“And you had better watch your cheek,” Snape said quietly, “unless you would like to find yourself in the corner for the second time today.” 

Harry glanced over to the corner then glared down at the floor. He could feel his cheeks heating up at the very idea but he didn’t want to give Snape the satisfaction of knowing how much he had hated such a childish punishment. 

“It is up to you,” said Snape after a moment, “to determine how long this lasts, Potter. It could be a day or so, or you can continue with your current attitude and drag it out all week. It matters very little to me.”

Harry didn’t answer, but he did give a small nod to at least show that he had been listening. This was going to be one very long week. He had no doubt that Snape would carry this punishment out in the same horrible way that he did detentions. He would look for any excuse for Harry to be in more trouble. 

You knew you shouldn’t have gone flying, said that pesky voice in Harry’s head. You knew that you would be in a lot of trouble when he found out.” Harry ignored the voice. Even if it was right. 

“Alright,” Snape was saying, “let’s have some dinner. You must be hungry. You were out for so long that you missed lunch.”  

Harry looked up at that. “That’s it?” He asked.

Snape turned back having already headed towards the kitchen. “What else is there?”

Harry stood up. “I dunno,” he answered truthfully, “I snuck out, nearly got my soul sucked out by dementors, and ended up in the hospital wing, and I’m just grounded?” 

“Would you like me to add something else?” Snape asked dryly, “I’m sure I could find some cauldrons that need scrubbing out, or perhaps I could talk Mr. Filch into setting you some tasks.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That’s okay.”

Snape nodded. “I thought it might be.” 

He began to walk towards the kitchen but then he turned around once more.

“Potter, you need to understand that nothing that your uncle did to you was right. And you will not be subjected to anything like that here.” Harry didn’t say anything and Snape looked down at him for a long moment before he continued, “You are safe here.”

Harry swallowed hard but continued to keep silent as he crossed his arms over his chest and looked anywhere but at Snape until the older man finally turned away from him. 

Chapter Text

After a silent dinner, Snape asked Jenka for tea as he always did. Harry sat down on the couch though and didn’t move to the armchair when it arrived. Snape didn’t say anything at first, simply set Harry’s cup on the other side of the tea tray and poured tea for himself. 

Harry stubbornly sat pouting on the couch. He would never admit it, but that is exactly what he was doing. He had his arms crossed and head bowed, his mouth set in a hard frown as he glared up at Snape through his fringe of dark hair. 

He hated this! He didn’t know how to be grounded. He didn’t know what he was allowed or not allowed to do and the uncertainty was really starting to bother him. He knew he was going to be allowed to eat, that much he was sure of. And Snape had said that he didn’t need to worry about getting hurt like at the Dursleys, but what if it was just some plot to get him to let his guard down? It would be such a Slytherin thing to do. 

And a whole week without leaving Snape’s side?! That was going to be torture enough! What was he even supposed to do besides homework? Harry was sure that he would be bored to tears after the first day. 

“I know that you want tea, Potter.” Snape’s voice interrupted his thinking, “So you’re either pouting because of your punishment in general or because you don’t think you’re allowed to have any, neither of which is acceptable. Come and have some tea, but you’re only getting one biscuit.” 

“I’m not pouting,” Harry said as he looked up fully at the man. Snape picked up the teapot and poured some into Harry’s cup.

“Of course not, Potter.” 

“Maybe I just don’t want tea. You don’t know everything, Snape.”

Snape ignored Harry’s nonuse of his title as he took a breath before adding cream and sugar to Harry’s cup. “If that is truly the case, then, by all means, continue in your sulking.” 

Harry waited another few seconds, seriously considering not having tea just to prove a point, but in the end, the chocolate biscuits that Snape had sat closer to his side of the tray decided for him. 

Harry dropped down into his chair and picked up his tea and a biscuit without a word. He was only slightly surprised to find that his tea was exactly how he liked it. The biscuit was really good too and Harry wondered if he’d be able to nick another one when Snape wasn’t looking. 

Snape held his tea but had barely drunk any of it as he seemed to be drowning in his own thoughts. And of course, they were consumed with the boy beside him. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t just let the child stew on the couch. What did Snape care if he had tea with him or not? But Snape knew that for some reason, Harry liked having tea after dinner. It had become part of their routine and he didn’t see a reason to take it away from him. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Snape noticed Harry’s hand inch toward the plate of biscuits, and for reasons entirely unknown to him, he turned his attention back to his own cup as he pretended not to see the boy take one. 

Merlin, what’s happening to me? He thought. 

“Professor!” Harry said suddenly as if just remembering something important. Snape turned to him but Harry continued without prompting. “There was a woman out there! Did anyone find her?” 

Snape looked down at the boy, his eyes narrowed in confusion. “Where, Potter?”

“On the quidditch pitch. When the dementors attacked. I heard her screaming!”

Snape shook his head slowly. “The only people there were Professor Lupin and yourself.”

“There had to have been. I heard her right before I...you know, passed out.”

It hit Snape then and he struggled to find the words to explain to Harry what he had likely heard. “Potter,” he started slowly, looking straight into Harry’s green eyes, “dementors bring nothing but decay and despair. They force their victims to relive their very worst memories by sucking every good feeling, every happy memory out of them. Potter, your very worst memories, you...you don’t even consciously remember.”

Harry seemed to pale considerably as he took in Snape’s words. 

“Do you mean that the woman is,” Harry swallowed hard with difficulty, “is my mother?” 

Snape sighed. “It does seem likely.” 

They both grew quiet once more until after a long while, Snape declared that it was time for Harry to get ready for bed. 

“But it’s not even nine o’clock.” Harry instantly protested. 

“I am perfectly aware of the time, Potter,” Snape said as he began to replace all their tea things before making the tray disappear. “You are going to bed an hour early tonight. It has been a long day and you could use the extra sleep.”

“I’ll never be able to sleep this early. Is this because I’m in trouble? Because you didn’t say anything about it earlier.”

Snape shook his head and stood up. “It has nothing to do with it. However, if you insist on arguing with me, I can certainly include it in your punishment for the rest of the week.” 

“That’s not fair,” Harry grumbled even as he also stood up. The last thing he wanted though was for Snape to send him to bed early every day though.

Snape ignored him and simply followed after him to his room. 

Harry opened his door and set about getting his night clothes while Snape leaned against the door jamb with his arms crossed over his chest. When Harry noticed him standing there he rolled his eyes. “You’re really going to watch me the entire time? Are you going to follow me into the loo as well?” 

When Snape gave no response other than a raised eyebrow, Harry stalked off to the bathroom and snapped the door shut behind him. He came back out a few minutes later and without even giving Snape a passing glance, he pulled the covers back on his bed and climbed into it. 

Snape came fully into the room then and stood by the bed as he held his hand out for Harry’s glasses. Harry roughly pulled them from his face and thrust them out to him before laying down and turning over onto his side, his back facing Snape. 

“I know that this is the first time you’ve been punished like this,” Snape began as he placed the folded glasses on Harry’s bedside table, “and that you don’t know what to expect, so I’m going to let this little tantrum that you’re throwing go for now. However, I can assure you, Potter, that if you continue with this behavior, it will only make your grounding that much more unpleasant. Do not test me, young man.” 

Harry fidgeted slightly but gave no reply.

Snape, figuring that was the best he would get, gave a short nod and turned away from him. “Good night.” He said as he reached the doorway. 

Before he closed it though, he thought he heard a quiet, “Night,” in return. 

By lunchtime two days later, Harry was sure he’d go mad if he didn’t get some time to himself. Every morning, Snape woke him up and waited in the doorway as Harry got ready in the bathroom. Then they had breakfast together before Snape followed Harry back to his room to get his school books. If Snape had to work in his lab, Harry sat at his desk and did homework. When he was finished, they would both go to the parlor and read quietly until lunch. After that, it was back to either the parlor or the lab. Once, Snape had needed to go down to his classroom and Harry had welcomed time outside of their quarters even though it had meant that he got put to work doing chores around the classroom to keep busy while Snape worked. By then it was just dinner, tea, then reading before being sent to bed. 

Harry couldn’t take anymore! And to top it all off, when they had sat down for lunch, a note from Hagrid had appeared in front of Harry inviting him down to visit. Snape had outright refused to let him go.

“Snape, please.” Harry asked again as he pushed his food around on his plate, “Just for a little while?” 

“I’ve already told you, Potter. The answer is no. You are still on restriction for five more days. You will just have to write to Hagrid and tell him you are unable to come.” 

Harry slouched down in his chair and groaned loudly. “But I’ve been good! I’ve been with you constantly for two and a half days and I haven’t complained.” A look from Snape had him rethinking his words, “Much. I haven’t complained much. I should get to go.”

“You call this tantrum that you are currently throwing, being good?”

“Sna-ape,” Harry whined, “I’m bored.” 

Snape shook his head. “Boredom comes with being grounded. If it were an enjoyable experience, it wouldn’t be called punishment. And what is with this whining you’ve suddenly started? It doesn’t become you, Potter. You’re twelve years old. You shouldn’t be whining like a child.”

“I’ll be thirteen in just over two weeks,” Harry grumbled, resting his elbow on the table and dropping his head into it. 

Snape scrubbed a hand down his face as he took, what he hoped, was a calming breath. 

“I’m perfectly aware of how old you are, Potter. I’m also quite sure that I’ve told you repeatedly to keep your elbows off the table and sit up properly.” 

Harry’s arm immediately dropped and he sat up straighter. “Sorry,” He mumbled. 

Snape nodded and said, “Eat, Potter. Then you can send a reply back to Hagrid before we go to the lab.” 

“I don’t want to go back to the lab, Snape! Why can’t I just go to my room? I’ll stay there, I promise!” 

Snape had known it wouldn’t be easy but he had hoped they would be a little further along in the week before Harry grew this restless. If this was how he was not even three days into his punishment, he dreaded to think how the next five days would go. Steeling himself, Snape put on his best stern Potions Master glare and leveled Harry with a look that sent most sixth years running. 

“If I were you, Potter, I would think very carefully about what I’m about to tell you. It is not up to you to decide what you do or do not get to do. You are being punished because you snuck out of your room and went flying without permission. You could have died, Potter, and I wouldn’t have even known where you were-”

“Like you would have even cared,” Harry interrupted, his voice rising as he shouted. “You probably would have been glad to get rid of me! You’re only letting me stay here in the first place because Dumbledore’s making you!” 

When Snape narrowed his eyes, Harry gulped, immediately realizing that he had gone too far. 

Sure enough, ten minutes later found Harry standing once more in the corner of the parlor with Snape sitting in his armchair behind him. 

“Snape?” Harry said softly.

“Quiet, Potter, or I’ll restart your time.” 

Harry sighed and resisted the urge to lean into the wall. He thought that maybe he hated the corner even more than he hated being grounded. It was just so stupid and childish. He was sure that none of his friends' parents treated them like Snape treated him. 

Harry shook his head at that thought. Where had that come from? Snape wasn’t his parent, he was barely even his guardian! He hadn’t lied when he’d said Snape was only taking care of him on Dumbledore’s orders. As soon as someone else came along, Harry would be leaving. Everything would go back to normal. And that’s exactly what he wanted!

So then why did the idea of not living with Snape make his stomach feel like the Giant Squid had started doing backflips in it? 

Harry chanced a glance back to see Snape watching him carefully. He quickly turned back to face the wall.

“Potter,” Snape growled in warning. 

Once his twenty minutes were up, Snape called Harry out of the corner, and just like last time, Harry came to stand in front of him with his head bowed and his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

“Do you have anything to say?” Snape asked.

“I’m sorry I shouted at you.” He looked up then. “It won’t happen again.”

Snape hummed in response as he took in the contrite boy in front of him. “You said that last time though.” Harry nodded mutely. “You are going to have to work on that temper, Potter. It will get you nowhere in life.” 

“You have a temper,” Harry said matter of factly. 

Snape snorted at this and Harry swore he saw a hint of a smile. “Yes, and I’m an angry, bitter, old man that no one likes.” 

Harry shrugged. “You’re not that old. You can’t be if you went to school with my dad.”

Snape arched a brow but refrained from commenting. It was the first time since Harry had been here that James Potter had been brought up. Snape himself had been avoiding saying anything about him at all in an effort to not cause another row with the boy, and he thought he’d actually been doing very well all things considered. 

When Snape said nothing, Harry continued, his head bowed once more, though Snape could see that color had flooded his cheeks. “And you’ve been okay, I suppose. Pretty decent actually. I know it’s just because Dumbledore is making you, but thanks, you know, for everything you’ve done since I got here. I really am sorry that I’ve been so much trouble. And I promise that as soon as he finds someone else to take me, I won’t be a bother to you anymore.” 

Snape took a moment to take in Harry’s words. They felt all too familiar to him and he didn’t like it at all. Before his mind could bring up memories of old hurts though, Snape cleared his throat and said, “Look at me, Potter.” Harry looked up. His face really was beet red by this point. “Let us be clear on one thing right now; Professor Dumbledore does not make me do anything. Yes, your coming to live with me this summer was his idea, but rest assured that if I did not want you here, you would not be.”

Harry looked stunned. “But I’ve already been in loads of trouble. I yelled at you and eavesdropped and I took my broom and snuck out to go flying! And I-”

“And you are a child, Mr. Potter. Not even I expected you to be perfect. I was perfectly aware of your penchant for trouble when I agreed to house you and I’m certainly not going to change my mind now.” 

Harry dropped his head once more and nodded. 

“Alright, now I believe I have work to do in my lab, which means you will accompany me. If you would like to get a book to take with you, you may do so.” 

Harry looked up hopefully.

“I could help.” At Snape’s look of disbelief, Harry quickly went on, “I won’t touch anything important and I’d do whatever you say. I could just get things for you or… or clean up or something. Anything as long as I don’t have to read another book. Please, Snape.”

Snape couldn’t believe that he was actually considering the boy’s request. 

“You’ll do everything I say?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Even if I tell you to scrub cauldrons? With no cheek?”

Harry pulled a face at that but still said, “Yes, sir. None.”

Snape sighed. “Very well. You get one chance, Potter. Do not make me regret this.” He said sternly.

Harry grinned. “You won’t. I promise.” 

Snape nodded before leading the way down the hall and into his lab, wondering what on Earth had gotten into him.

Chapter Text

The next week seemed to fly by for Harry and Snape. Harry had finished out his grounding on Saturday and had immediately asked to visit Hagrid, which Snape had allowed him to do if for no other reason than the fact that he, too, was glad for some peace and quiet away from the boy. On Sunday, Harry had visited the owlery and spent a great deal of time with Hedwig, who after voicing her displeasure with him by pecking him repeatedly on the top of his head, finally settled down and allowed him to pet her.

He had written letters to both Ron and Hermione, letting them know that he wasn't with the Dursleys anymore but that he was safe and he would explain exactly where he was when he saw them next. Harry knew that neither of them would likely be satisfied with being kept in the dark but Snape had made him promise not to tell anyone. He didn't want to risk anyone recognizing Hedwig and getting a hold of the letters.

Tuesday had marked three weeks that Harry had been living with Snape and though neither would admit it, they had settled into a routine and there seemed to have been some sort of truce between them. Except for the times that he had gotten into trouble, (and even Harry could admit that those times he had at least deserved it,) Snape hadn't said or done anything particularly nasty to him. Harry rather thought that it was a considerable step up from the alternative of facing every day with his aunt and uncle. At least Snape had so far kept his word and hadn't hurt him. For that, Harry was thankful. He still wasn't sure that Snape wasn't just lulling him into a false sense of security though, and so he was determined to keep his guard up at all times. He had made the mistake of lowering it around adults one too many times and had paid dearly for it.

On Thursday, they had breakfast again with Professor McGonagall, this time in her and Dumbledore's quarters. When they had finished eating, and after Harry had gotten every possible story about a teenage Snape that he could convince McGonagall and Dumbledore to tell him, Harry asked if he could head back to their quarters early so that he could finish his last summer assignment. Snape had promised that if he finished it today, he would allow him to help out in the lab again and Harry was surprisingly eager to do so.

"You may," Snape agreed with a nod, "but only if you take the floo from here. I don't want you wandering around the castle alone."

Harry stood up and pushed his chair back under the table. "I wouldn't wander. Besides I don't think that Sirius Black is going to be hanging around the hallways just waiting to jump out at me."

The look that Snape gave him clearly said that he wasn't amused. "Either take the floo or wait for me, Potter. It's up to you."

"Alright, fine," Harry said as he held up his hands in surrender. "I'll take the floo. Just calm down, Snape. We wouldn't want anyone to think you care what happens to me, would we?"

Snape was halfway out of his chair before Harry ran from the room. A moment later they heard the floo roar to life and Snape sat back down with a shake of his head. He picked up his coffee cup and took a sip before he realized that both his adopted parents were looking at him with smiles on their faces.

"What?" He asked, lowering his cup once more.

"Nothing." Minerva said as she continued to smile fondly at him, "I've just never seen him act so at ease with an adult before."

"That's precisely what I was thinking," Albus added. "It's almost as if Harry is beginning to feel comfortable around you, Severus."

"Dad," Snape started but was interrupted.

"All I'm saying is that it appears that Harry is starting to realize that he doesn't need to be afraid around you anymore."

Snape rolled his eyes. "Maybe that's why he has taken to that insufferable whining lately. Don't most children grow out of that by the time they're his age?"

"Harry is not most children," Minerva said, "He has probably never had a chance to act in such a way before. Maybe he is testing the waters with you; trying to figure out what he can and can't do."

Albus nodded as he stood up. "All children handle things in different ways. I remember you testing us quite a bit in the beginning."

"And just where are you going?" Minerva asked as Albus magically cleared the table of their leftover breakfast, leaving only Snape's coffee and Minerva's tea.

"The minister has requested another meeting," he answered. "I must be off, but I should be back by lunch."

Minerva hummed into her tea. "That man probably couldn't tie his own shoes without consulting you about it first."

Albus smiled and Snape covered up his own laugh with a cough before standing as well.

"Oh, no, you're not going anywhere," Minerva said suddenly, "I've got something to talk to you about first."

Albus put a hand on Snape's shoulder as he passed. "Behave, son."

Snape glared at him incredulously. "Behave?" he said before turning to his mother, "What on earth did I do?"

Minerva smirked at her son. "Nothing, he's only teasing. Come, sit back down." Snape sat back in his vacated chair and waited expectantly for her to speak. He didn't have to wait long. "Alright, Severus, I'll just get right to it." She said as she pushed her teacup aside and folded her hands on top of the table. "What are you doing for Harry's birthday?"

Snape raised a brow at her. "I hadn't planned on doing anything. He's surely not expecting anything?"

Minerva's eyes narrowed and her lips pulled down into a thin line. "Of course he's not expecting anything," she said sharply, though she didn't raise her voice. "He's been living with those muggles for the last twelve years. Do you think he's gotten anything from them? The boy most likely hasn't had a single celebration for his birthday since his first one and you... you, his guardian who is supposed to be taking care of him, would deny him one now?! Severus Snape, I expected better of you."

Had it been any other person on the receiving end of that tone and look, they would have been the picture of contrition. Snape, however, sat smirking. "No, you didn't." He said to her before draining the last of his coffee. "You knew exactly how I would be if I had to take him in."

This time, Minerva humphed at her son's words. "Well, I did hope for better."

Snape inclined his head. "I'm sorry to disappoint."

She smiled. "You could never."

Snape looked away, uncomfortable as always when she said things like that to him.

"So what are you going to do?" She asked, bringing him back to the topic at hand.

He sighed, "What do you want me to do? It's not as if I can invite his fan club down to the dungeons for cake and presents. If that's what you're hoping for, dad should have sent him to someone else."

"You know that he's in no safer place than with you," she said as she cleared the table with her wand. "And just between us, I would get used to it. Honestly, have you seen the list he has so far for prospective long-term guardians for the boy?"

Snape nodded with a groan as he scrubbed a hand down his face. "I have. I'm also sure that he's doing it on purpose. The Longbottom's and the Weasley's were bad enough but the Warbecks? Really? He's not trying at all."

"Kingsley Shaklebolt's name was on the list." She said with a knowing grin.

Snape snorted and rolled his eyes. "Shaklebolt doesn't have the time for a cat, let alone a thirteen-year-old boy."

"Severus," she asked as she stood from her chair and looked down at him, "are you actually looking for reasons why these people wouldn't be suitable for Harry? I would have thought you would jump at the first person to offer, and yet, according to Albus, you have declined each one."

Snape didn't answer, instead he, too, stood up and said, "Thank you for breakfast, Mum. I'll figure out something for Saturday if it makes you happy."

Minerva smiled. "It does. Take him out to dinner. He'll enjoy that. But make sure you have him back here by seven. That's when I've asked the house elves to have his cake ready."

Snape sighed. "Anything else?"

"Yes," she answered, walking past Snape towards the kitchen door that led to their own parlor, "Get him a present. Something nice."

"Get him a what?!

Saturday morning dawned bright through the enchanted window and Harry lay awake in his bed down in Snape's quarters, staring out of it. He should have gotten up earlier but he was taking his time today. It was his birthday after all.

It wasn't as if he was expecting anything, especially not considering he was staying with Snape, so he would just take a few extra minutes to let his birthday sink in before he went out to breakfast.

That was until Snape started banging on his door.

"Potter, if you don't get up this instant and get these packages off my table, I'll chuck them all into the fireplace!"

Harry's eyes widened and he leaped from the bed. "Packages?" he wondered aloud as he dashed towards the bedroom door and pulled it open.

When he came into the kitchen, Snape was sitting in his chair with the paper in front of his face as always, but next to him, at Harry's place, was a small mountain of wrapped packages.

"Are those...all for me?" He asked quietly.

"They're addressed to you," Snape replied from behind his paper. "And kindly refrain from running around like a common mountain troll. You should know better by now."

"Sorry," Harry said as he moved closer and saw that he had something from Hermione, Ron, Hagrid, Mrs. Weasley, even Dumbledore, and McGonagall.

Harry picked up Ron's package first and opened the letter that had been attached to it. Ron told him Happy Birthday and that he was glad that he wasn't with the Dursleys anymore, that no matter where he was, it had to be better than with them. He told them about how Mr. Weasley had won seven hundred Galleons from work and how they had taken a trip to Egypt. Inside the letter was a newspaper clipping with an article and a picture of the whole family. Harry smiled happily, he couldn't think of anyone who deserved to win more than Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. When he opened the package itself, Harry pulled out what appeared to be a small, glass spinning top. Another note from Ron explained that it was a Pocket Sneakoscope and that when someone untrustworthy was around, it would light up and spin.

Harry carefully sat the sneakoscope down on the table beside the pile of presents and it almost immediately began to sound its alarm. Harry's eyes widened as he looked from it to Snape, who pulled the paper from in front of him and glared at the small top. Harry quickly picked it up and looked for a way to turn it off but when he found none, Snape simply waved his wand at it and it fell silent.

"It's supposed to let you know if someone around is untrustworthy," Harry said quietly.

"It's rubbish meant for tourists, Potter. I doubt it carries any real merit."

"Right," Harry replied with less conviction.

He then turned back to the pile and picked up the package from Hermione. She had also written him a long letter in which she echoed Ron's birthday message and agreed that she was glad he was away from the Dursleys.

"I have an idea of where you might be, but I won't put it in writing in case the letter is intercepted, but if I'm right, I do hope you're taking advantage of the situation and getting help with your summer assignments. Also, please try and get along with your guardian, Harry. I know it will be hard, but trust that Dumbledore knows what he's doing."

Harry rolled his eyes. Of course, Hermione would have worked it out already. He picked up her package and opened it up to find a sleek, black leather case with, "Broomstick Servicing Kit", stamped across it in silver letters.

Harry's heart sank as he was reminded that he no longer had a broom. Well, technically he had one, it was just in pieces at the bottom of his trunk now. He had refused to let anyone throw it away in case he found a way to repair it, even though Snape had sworn that it was irreparable.

He opened the case and ran his fingers over the contents inside, wishing for the hundredth time that he had just stayed in his room that day.

When he looked up, he saw Snape staring at him once more.

"I know I deserve it, alright," Harry said glumly. "You don't have to say it."

Snape raised an eyebrow at him, "I didn't say anything."

Harry sighed, "And you really don't think it can be fixed?"

"It can not," Snape answered back from behind the paper. "However the school brooms will be just fine for you."

"No, they won't, Snape," Harry said, his voice precariously close to a whine. "Why can't I just use some of my money from Gringotts to get a new one?"

Snape put his paper down fully. "We're not getting into this again, Potter. You are not going to take out several hundred galleons just to buy a new broom. Your parents left you that money for your future, not to use it all up before you even graduate."

"Well, then how am I supposed to get a new one?" Harry asked, looking longingly at the kit in his hands.

"I suppose like most children. With hard work and by earning the money for yourself."

"How, though? Who's going to pay me for anything?"

Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. How had he gotten into this?

"Potter, am I not your guardian?"

"Yes," Harry replied.

"Alright then. I'll make you a deal. I'll set you a list of chores to do each day, and if you complete them without me having to remind you over and over again, I will give you an allowance each week. Say, ten sickles."

Harry's eyes widened once more. "Really?"

Snape nodded. "Really. But you must do every chore, exactly how I ask."

"What about when school starts back?" Harry asked with a frown. "Will you still be my guardian if Professor Dumbledore doesn't find anyone else before then?"

"Generally, the school acts as in loco parentis, while children are here. However, since I teach here, that wouldn't apply to you. Any issue that came up, I would still be made aware of and could deal with myself."

Harry looked at him, his brows knit together in confusion. "Why?" He asked.

"Obviously because I'm already here."

"No," Harry interrupted quickly. "I mean why do you want to be my guardian if the school could just take over? I thought you would be glad to not have to deal with me anymore."

In all honesty, he wasn't sure how to answer the boy. It was true that he had been ready and waiting for someone else to step in and take Potter off his hands, but over the last few weeks, he had been forced to know him in a way that he never had before. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he had been able to look past James Potter and really see the boy he was. It didn't erase all the feelings that had been built up the last several years, and he still thought that Harry had been treated with kid gloves and allowed to run amuck around the castle and get away with entirely too much, but learning about his life with his relatives and seeing for himself how he could be, had made an impression on the older man. Something he was quite sure that Dumbledore knew would happen. And so it wasn't so much that Snape wanted to keep Harry with him, but he was beginning to find that he also didn't mind his company as much as he thought he would.

Snape sighed. He knew he would have to be as candid as possible with the boy and that wasn't something he was all that ready for. He settled for asking a question instead. "Would you rather the school take over?"

Harry looked away. He felt like he had been put on the spot and wasn't sure how to answer this question any more than Snape had been. "I dunno. How would it be exactly? Would I have to stay down here all the time instead of in the tower?"

Snape looked at him curiously. "No, you would remain in the tower unless you wanted to come down here. Perhaps to have dinner or tea or to do chores. As you know the door is spelled to always allow you to enter so it wouldn't matter what time of day it was, though I don't want you wandering the castle after curfew. So if you came down here late, you had better have a good reason to do so." Harry nodded and Snape went on. "Also, we still need to keep up appearances so in class and around other people, I'm still just your Potions Professor and you're still just a student. It will have to be an act so that no one finds out about the guardianship."

Harry didn't like that at all.

"So in class, you're still going to be mean like you've always been?!"

Snape nodded. "Yes. And do not raise your voice to me, young man. There are too many students here whose parents were followers of the Dark Lord. We can't risk any of them getting suspicious."

"Then how am I supposed to ever come down here?" Harry asked, slouching down into his chair. "The Slytherins are going to see me and wonder what I'm doing in the dungeons."

"I'm sure we could come up with a reason, Potter. You could have detention or be taking extra potions lessons. No one will suspect unless we give them a reason to." He waited for Harry to nod to show that he understood before continuing. "And as for everything else, it wouldn't be much different than any other school year. I suppose the rules would change a bit, but that's something to be expected if we're taking into account that school will be in session."

"Like how?" Harry asked, tracing his fingers once more over the edge of the kit in front of him.

"Well, for one thing, I expect you to work hard and maintain good grades. None of this slacking off like I know you're so fond of. I, of course, still expect you to be respectful of me and your other teachers and I don't want to hear of you getting into trouble in any of their classes. However, I trust that if that happens, the teacher in question will handle it however they see fit, though if they have to feel the need to come to me with a problem, be sure that I will handle it myself. Is that understood?"

"I don't cause problems, Snape," Harry said defensively. "I can tell Ron and Hermione though right?"

Snape nodded. "I don't see how you'll be able to keep it from them, but I want your word and theirs that it will go no further."

"I promise."

"Alright." Snape said, "I take it you want to do this then? Once you've decided, that's it. You don't get to change your mind the first time I don't allow you to have your way, understand?"

Harry took a moment to consider it before saying, "What if you change your mind?"

"I give you my word that I will not," Snape answered immediately.

"Okay, then." Harry said with a nod, then as an afterthought, he said, "But what about-"

"Potter," Snape interrupted, "There is still plenty of time to discuss the ins and outs of everything, but right now, breakfast is waiting on you to finish opening your presents. We can talk more about it later." Then without another word, Snape picked the paper back up and held it firmly in front of him.

Harry turned back to the other packages and tried to decide which to open next. He had almost opened Hagrid's when he noticed a square package near the bottom without a name.

Harry picked it up and carefully took off the wrapping to find that it was a book. The title read, "Defensive Spells and How to Use Them."

"Wow," Harry breathed the word as he ran his fingers over the embossed words. Opening it up he saw that there was an inscription on the inside cover.

"To Harry Potter on his thirteenth birthday. From Professor Snape."

Harry looked up quickly. "You got me a present?"

Snape lowered the paper, but only slightly so that Harry could just see his face. "One usually gets presents on his birthday. It is nothing to look so shocked about."

Harry shook his head, "But, sir, you didn't have to-"

"No one said I had to, Potter. Now open your other gifts and let me read my paper in peace."

Harry smiled and did as he was told. All of his presents were fantastic and he loved them all, but the idea that Snape had taken the time to pick out a gift for him, and such a nice gift at that, made him happy in a way that he didn't quite understand.

As did the fact that once he'd cleared everything off the table, Snape tapped it so that his favorite breakfast appeared before taking out the comics page of the Daily Prophet and passing it over to him.

Chapter Text

A few days after Harry’s birthday, he was sitting against the headboard of his bed with his new Defense book propped up against his knees. He had been pouring over the book since Snape had given it to him and he wondered what Snape would say if he asked him to teach him one of the spells inside it. 

Harry snorted. He didn’t have to wonder because he could practically hear Snape now, asking him why he thought he would ever need to actually learn such spells and that Harry, the arrogant rule breaker that he was, had probably already tried at least a dozen of the spells on his own anyway. Still, he thought, it couldn’t hurt to just ask.

Just then, there came a knock at Harry’s door and Snape opened it before stepping inside. He stood beside Harry’s desk, his face impassive as he asked, “Did you finish your chores for today, Potter?” 

Harry nodded as he set his book aside before swinging his legs off the side of the bed. “Yes.”

Snape’s forehead crinkled. He took a step closer to the bed, folding his arms across his chest. “You did? All of them?” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, Snape.” He held up his hand and started ticking off with his fingers. “I cleaned up after breakfast, then you watched me as I cleaned those cauldrons in your lab. I dusted the parlor and cleaned up my room and bathroom. I even polished the dining room table and mopped the floors. Without magic.” When Snape only raised an eyebrow at him, Harry smirked, “Honestly, Snape, you’re going to have to do better than that if you’re trying to make it hard.”

“Watch it, young man,” Snape warned but Harry just glared evenly back at him. 

“So can I go flying then?” Harry asked suddenly, jumping off the bed. “I want to test out the school brooms.” 

“Maybe later,” Snape answered. He turned to straighten up the pile of papers littering Harry’s desk and said, “I have to go to a meeting with the Headmaster in a moment and I want you to stay inside.” 

Harry’s shoulders slumped but he didn’t argue. He had been working very hard on keeping his temper in check and he wasn’t about to lose it over this. He had already been down this road several times since coming to live with Snape and it never worked out when he pushed the man after he had already said no. Instead, Harry decided to change the subject entirely and turned to pick up his book from where he had left it on the bed. 

“Fine.” He said glumly. “I’m going to study my book in the parlor then.”

Snape inclined his head and followed him out of the room and down the hall to the parlor where Harry dropped down onto the couch, pulling his feet up into the cushion.

“Shoes off the couch.” Snape absently said as he used his wand to spell flames into the fireplace. 

Harry, who had already opened his book, merely kicked off his shoes and resumed his position on the couch. Before he lost his nerve, he asked, “Do you think you could teach me some of these spells sometime?” 

To Harry’s surprise, Snape actually looked as if he were considering his request. “Do you have any particular spell in mind?” 

Harry gave the first spell he could think of before Snape could change his mind. “Reducto?” 

Snape hummed in response as he replaced his wand inside the sleeve of his robes. “That’s a fourth-year spell, Potter.”

Harry nodded. “I know.”

Snape seemed to be giving it a great deal of thought and Harry was sure that he was going to deny his request. Finally, though, Snape nodded. “Perhaps tomorrow.” Then he added, “If you behave.”

Harry grinned. “Thanks, Snape.” 

Snape began to walk to the door as he said, “I will be back shortly. Stay inside.”

Harry was already immersed in his book by the time Snape shut the door behind himself. 

Snape made his way to Dumbledore’s study and knocked twice on the door before hearing the older man call out to him. As he stepped inside, he noticed immediately that Dumbledore didn’t seem at all his usual self. There was no twinkle in his bright blue eyes and he sat quietly behind his desk, his hands steepled in front of him. He didn’t even take a moment to greet Snape or offer him a lemon drop as he normally would. Instead, he sighed heavily and spoke quietly, “He has been spotted again.”

Snape sat down in the chair across from him. “Where?” He asked immediately. 

“Not far from the Weasley’s home. Just last night.”

“He must think that Potter is with them,” Snape said. “Are they back from Egypt yet?”

Dumbledore shook his head. “No, I wrote to Arthur as soon as I heard the news last night and I expect that I’ll hear back from him soon. I believe they were due to come back the last week of this month.” 

Snape sighed. “What are you thinking?” 

Dumbledore took a moment to answer, but finally said, “I think it might be time for you and Harry to leave Hogwarts until school starts.”

Snape didn’t bother to argue. “Very well.”

“I will go this afternoon and reinforce the wards around the manor. You and Harry should be able to be there by tomorrow morning.” 

Snape nodded and looked away.

“Something else troubles you, Severus?” 

Snape took a deep breath. “Black may not be our only problem. Lucius sent word this morning.”

Realization seemed to dawn on Dumbledore and he gave a soft smile. “Ah, young Mr. Malfoy’s visit.”

“With everything going on,” Snape said, “I had forgotten all about it.” 

For the first time since Snape had entered his office, the twinkle was back in Dumbledore’s eyes as he smiled even more broadly. “Well, it will certainly be interesting.” 

Back down in their quarters, Harry had just finished rereading the chapter on the Jelly Legs Curse when he heard a knock at the door. He set the book on the coffee table before going over and answering the door. 

Professor Lupin stood on the other side. “Hello, Harry.” The man held out his hand for Harry to shake. As Harry took it, he said, “We haven’t officially met yet, have we.”

“No, sir,” said Harry, “but Snape, er, I mean, Professor Snape, told me who you are. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Lupin said with a bright smile. “I don’t suppose Professor Snape is here?”

Harry shook his head. “No, he’s at a meeting with Professor Dumbledore, but you can come inside if you like.”

Lupin nodded. “Thank you, Harry.”

Harry led the way into the parlor and he and Professor Lupin both took seats on opposite sides of the couch. 

“Thank you, by the way,” Harry spoke up, “for saving me that day. I probably could have died if it weren’t for you.” 

“Think nothing of it,” Lupin assured him with a hand held up. “I’m just glad I happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

“I was going to come and thank you in person,” Harry said, “I was just, um-”

Lupin smiled easily. “I imagine you were in a bit of trouble after that from the way that Professor Snape was acting. I got the impression that you weren’t supposed to be out there.” 

The knowing way that Lupin spoke caused Harry’s cheeks to heat up and he lowered his gaze to the couch cushion. “Yeah, a bit.”

Lupin chuckled but seeing that Harry was embarrassed, decided to change the subject. “So how do you like living with Professor Snape?” 

Harry looked up at that. He didn’t know why, but after only minutes of knowing this man, Harry already felt comfortable around him. “I thought I would hate it,” he answered honestly. “But then, I dunno, it’s been sort of okay, actually.” 

Lupin smiled warmly once more. “Severus certainly takes some getting used to.”

Harry grinned. “Definitely. Do you know him well?” 

Lupin puzzled over the question for a moment before finally answering with a small frown. “It’s a bit complicated, but no, I didn’t know him as well as I probably could have. We went to school together. We were in the same year, in fact, but we didn’t get along very well. Different houses you see.” 

Harry nodded. “What house were you in?”

Lupin pulled his tattered, brown jacket aside to reveal a small, scarlet and gold pin attached to his lapel. “I’m quite proud to say that I was in Gryffindor.” 

Harry smiled, thinking for the second time in as many minutes, that he really liked the man in front of him. Harry wanted to ask Professor Lupin whether or not he had known his parents, but before he had the chance, the door opened up and Snape strode through. He stopped short when he saw Harry sitting on the couch with Lupin and he raised an eyebrow at the boy. 

Both Lupin and Harry stood up but it was Lupin that spoke.

“Sorry to just barge in, Severus. I thought you had said eleven.”

Snape turned to him. “I did, but I was called away for a few moments. I have what you need in my lab.”

The two older men headed for the lab and Harry made to follow them, however, Snape stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “You are to stay out here.” 

Harry, who had gotten used to being permitted in the lab, looked confused. “But why?”

“Because I said so,” Snape replied firmly. “We won’t be long, and then we will have lunch.” 

Harry felt disgruntled but nodded anyway. When he caught Lupin’s eye, the older man gave him a wink when Snape’s back was turned, making Harry grin again before he headed back to the couch to resume reading his book. 

Nearly thirty minutes later, Snape and Lupin emerged from the lab and Harry stood up from his place on the couch. 

“I really enjoyed talking to you today, Harry,” Lupin said with a smile. “Maybe we can do it again one day soon.”

“I’d like that.” 

Lupin stuck out his hand and Harry shook it before he made his way to the parlor door. Before he walked out though, he turned back to look at Snape. “Thank you, Severus.”

Snape merely inclined his head towards the man and Lupin gave a small wave at Harry, then turned on his heel and left. 

Harry turned around to find Snape staring at him. “What?” He asked. “Why are you looking at me like I did something wrong?”

“Did you?” Snape asked, his arms crossing over his chest as he raised his eyebrow at him.

“No!” Harry exclaimed, defensively. When Snape continued to stare at him, he said, “I haven’t, Snape. You told me to stay inside when you left and I did. You told me to stay out here while you and Professor Lupin went to the lab and I did that too. I didn’t do anything.”

Snape smirked at him then and Harry realized that Snape was teasing him. It was a rare occurrence, but it had happened a few times in the last couple of weeks and Harry was finding that he sort of liked the back and forth that he had developed with the man. 

Snape walked around to his armchair and sat down.

“Come and take a seat, Potter. We need to talk.” He said seriously.

Harry immediately tensed up. His shoulders drew back as he stood up straight. Any teasing from a moment ago was gone, in its place, Harry felt the familiar pang of unease at what Snape could want to talk to him about.

“About what?”

Snape noticed the change in the boy and motioned towards the couch with his right hand before saying, “I just have some news for you, that’s all. Now, come and sit down.”

Harry sighed but did as he was asked. He took a seat at the end of the couch, drawing his legs up so that his knees were in front of his chest. 

“Sirius Black was spotted in Ottery St. Catchpole. Very close to the Weasley’s home.” Snape said, getting straight to the point. Harry’s eyes widened.

“Are they okay?” He demanded to know.

“They’re fine,” Snape answered, holding up his hand again. “They are still in Egypt and the Headmaster has written Mr. Weasley and he is awaiting a response from him as we speak.”

Harry relaxed a little as he nodded. 

Snape continued though he seemed to be trying to choose his words wisely. 

“I know you want information, and I’m prepared to give you some, but I want your word, Potter, that you will not, under any circumstances, go looking for Black.”

“Why would I-” Harry started but Snape interrupted him.

“Your word, Potter. I mean it.”

“Alright,” agreed Harry, “I promise I won’t go looking for a deranged murderer.”

Snape scowled. “It isn’t funny.” When Harry only nodded, Snape took a breath and said, “Sirius Black was a follower of the Dark Lord. He had been a spy for him and no one knew it.”

“Like you?” Harry asked. 

A few days ago, when Harry and Snape had talked about how that Snape would have to play the part of the evil potions professor while at school, Snape had told him about how when he was younger he had become a spy for Dumbledore. He wanted Harry to know why they couldn’t ever be open about the guardianship and how doing so would blow his cover and would put them both in terrible danger. Harry had taken the news well but he still didn’t like the idea that Snape was still planning to be mean to him in class. 

“Yes,” Snape answered, “except that he was a spy for the wrong side. He let everyone believe that he was working against the Dark Lord but really, he was taking information to him. The problem was that we didn’t find out until it was too late. When your parents were killed and the Dark Lord was destroyed, Black blamed you. He’s spent the last twelve years in Azkaban, biding his time. Now that he’s out, we had assumed it was because he was after you. But now with the sightings in Hogsmeade and near the Weasley’s, we are certain that getting to you is his main goal.”

Snape gave Harry a moment to let that sink in before he went on. Harry, for his part, didn’t seem very surprised. 

“I didn’t do anything that night.” He finally spoke quietly as he studied the tops of his knees.

Snape shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It’s clear that he does not see it that way. And that is why it is absolutely imperative that you do everything in your power to stay safe. It is my job as your guardian to keep you safe, but I can’t do that if you disobey me at every turn. Do you understand?” 

Harry glumly nodded. “Yes, sir,” he mumbled. 

“The Headmaster and I have decided that now might be the time to leave the castle until the start of term. We will be leaving for my home in the morning, so tonight, I want you to pack your trunk with everything you wish to take with you.”

Harry looked up at that. “You’re actually going to take me to your house?”

Snape nodded. “You’ll have your own room there as well, though it’s quite a bit bigger than here. It should be up to your tastes.” He added with a smirk, causing Harry to roll his eyes. 

“It better be,” Harry said lightly.

Snape cleared his throat then before he continued. “There’s just one more thing we need to go over.” Harry waited expectantly, but what Snape said next caused his mouth to fall open and a lead weight dropped in his stomach.

“Draco Malfoy will be coming to visit for a week.”

Chapter Text

“Draco Malfoy will be coming to visit for a week.” 

Harry’s eyes widened as he jumped up from where he had been sitting on the couch.

“What?!” He exclaimed, glaring down at Snape. “Why?”

Snape ignored Harry’s outburst and calmly replied, “Because his parents are leaving the country for a trip and they are not taking him with them. He stays with me each year but with everything that has been happening, I forgot about it until I got the letter from Lucius Malfoy this morning.”

“Why you? I’m sure he has loads of people who would love to have him for the week.”

Snape sighed heavily. “Draco is my godson. He has been coming to stay with me for a week, once a year, since he was ten years old.” 

“Oh, that’s rich!” Harry couldn’t stand still. He moved to the back of the couch and leaned against it, turning his back on Snape as he crossed his arms over his chest. “No wonder you favor him so much. It all makes sense now. And just what am I supposed to do while he’s here? Because I’m telling you, Snape, I’m not staying with Malfoy for a whole week!” He glared over his shoulder at Snape who remained sitting in his armchair as if his ward weren’t throwing a fit right in front of him. 

“I have had quite enough of this attitude that you are showing me right now.” Snape began to lecture sternly. “I understand that you are upset, but I simply will not allow you to behave like this. Now you can either come back and sit down and have a conversation with me like the intelligent young man that I know you to be or if you insist on standing, you can do so in the corner until you learn how to speak to me properly. The choice is yours.”

  Harry wavered, but only for a moment. He had no doubt that Snape would make good on his threat of sending him to the corner, and it wasn’t something that Harry had any desire to have happen. Especially not since things with Snape had been going surprising well the last few days. So with a sigh, Harry made his way back around the couch and took a seat in the spot he had just vacated. 

Snape waited until Harry had settled back into the couch before he spoke. “Now, I know that this will be difficult for you. It will be for you both. I’m well aware that the relationship that you and Draco have is less than friendly-”

Harry interrupted with a scoff. “Less than friendly? Snape, Malfoy is a prat and-”

“Do not interrupt me.” Snape cut him off, enunciating each syllable in his favorite “feared Potions Master” tone. Harry grit his teeth but remained quiet. “The situation is not ideal, Potter, but if I had told Lucius that Draco couldn’t stay, he would have known that something was up. We do not need Lucius Malfoy to know that you’re here.”

Harry threw his hands up in frustration. “Then how are you going to keep him from finding out if Malfoy is here?! He’s just going to run right to him and then he’ll know.”

“He won’t. Draco won’t say anything.” 

Harry shook his head stubbornly. “You must be really thick then, Snape, if you actually believe that.”

Snape stood up then and pointed towards the corner. “That’s it, into the corner with you.” 

“What?! No!” Harry knew his voice was dangerously close to a whine but he couldn’t help it. This whole thing was turning sour and there was nothing he could do about it.

“I’m trying to have a civilized conversation with you, Potter, and you are fighting me at every turn. You’re being rude and insolent and you should know by now that I absolutely will not tolerate it!” 

Harry dropped his head but looked up at Snape through his fringe of dark hair. “I know, okay. I’m sorry. Honest, it won’t happen again.”

Snape glared down at him for another long moment before he sat back down once more with a heavy sigh. “I know that you are perfectly capable of sitting here and discussing this rationally, Potter. Why you are determined not to do so is beyond me.” Snape’s words had lost their sternness and he hoped that Harry didn’t notice. The boy across from him didn’t comment, however, he did give a small nod as he continued to stare down at the couch cushion. 

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in an attempt to stave off the headache he could already feel coming. Finally, he looked back at Harry and said,

“Potter, I’m going to tell you something and I want your word that it will stay between us. It doesn’t leave this room, understood?” Harry looked up questioningly and nodded once more. 

“Lucius Malfoy,” Snape began, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he clasped his hands together in front of him, “no doubt loves his son in his own way. He spoils him to no end of course, but he is also fiercely protective of him. However, Lucius is also an extremely hard man to please. He expects perfection and utmost respect from Draco at all times. Even when Draco is at Hogwarts he constantly sends letters to me as well as some of his other teachers in order to keep track for himself just how well his son is doing in his classes. In his eyes, if Draco doesn’t have the highest marks, he has failed.” Here, Snape gave another small sigh and Harry waited for him to continue. 

“Draco is a very bright student. He actually works hard and applies himself to his studies, even classes that he doesn’t particularly enjoy, all because he wants to please his father and make him proud. To make him love him. Tell me, Potter, do you have any idea what that must feel like for him?” Snape waited and watched as Harry’s head dipped down the slightest bit and his green eyes shifted over and away from Snape. “The problem is that try as he might, Draco did not come out in the lead this past year. But Hermione Granger did. A muggle-born student surpassed Lucius’s son and according to him, that is disgraceful.”

Harry opened his mouth to speak but Snape cut him off before he could utter a word.

“I’m telling you this because I want you to understand that unless someone breaks the cycle, it will continue. Lucius is cold and manipulative. He cares more for his status and what people will think of him than he does for how his own son feels and he is like that because his own father was like that. And likely his father before him. If someone doesn’t get through to Draco, I fear that he will grow up to be the same. And that would be a shame.”

After a long few moments in which Snape wondered if he had even gotten through to the boy, Harry softly asked, “Do you think he’ll be a death eater one day?” 

Snape replied evenly, “I intend to do everything in my power to keep that from happening.”

Harry nodded. He looked as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. 

“What is it?” Snape asked.

Harry bit his lip and looked away for a moment. When he turned back to Snape, he said, “Look, I understand all that. I really do, but you said that in class we would have to put on an act so that no one got suspicious. That you were going to treat me like you always have. Well, is that how it’s going to be while Malfoy’s here?”

“No,” Snape answered immediately. 

“Then what are you going to tell him because I don’t see how this is going to work.”

“I intend to tell Draco the truth.” Snape sat back in his chair and eyed the boy across from him. “Or at least as much of it as I can. I can’t tell him that I have been a spy, but I can word it in a way that makes it seem like you being here wasn’t my idea.”

“Well, that won’t be a lie,” Harry smirked.

“Mind your cheek,” Snape said though there was no sternness in his tone. “And don’t worry about Draco. Everything will be fine.”

“Easy for you to say,” Harry grumbled under his breath as Snape stood up to head to the kitchen. “You’re not going to have to live with your arch enemy.”

“I heard that,” Snape called back.

“This,” Harry looked up, astounded as he stepped out of the fireplace, “is your house?” 

Snape had sent most of their things ahead of them before he and Harry took the floo. 

They stood in the middle of a living room that had sliding, wooden doors on either side and a massive window at the other end. He had been expecting it to be dark and cold but instead, the window let in enough natural light that even without the candles that hung on the walls and from the ceiling, he could see everything clearly. The fireplace that they had just stepped out of took up most of the back wall, the stones that made up the hearth climbed all the way up past the mantel and to the ceiling. Snape immediately pointed his wand to the fireplace and a blazing fire sprang up, lighting the room even more. 

Harry took in the sparse furniture that sat around the room. There were two couches that sat across from each other, a coffee table between them, and just like their quarters back at Hogwarts, two armchairs sat near the fireplace with an end table between them. 

“Don’t dawdle, Potter,” Snape was saying, “You still need to unpack and set your room up.” He pointed to the doors to the left and said, “That leads to the Library. You can visit there whenever you want, provided that you stay away from the books on the upper right side. They are restricted and you are not to touch them.” 

“Yes, sir.” Harry obediently replied. 

Snape nodded as he led the way to the doors on the other side of the room. Harry hurried to follow along. “Through here is the foyer and the downstairs restroom,” he said, pointing out the door on his left. Then motioning straight ahead, he continued, “The kitchen is through that door, and past that are the dining rooms.”

“Rooms?” Harry asked, “You have more than one dining room?”

Snape glared at him as if he had just asked the silliest question. “Of course I do. There is a small one connected to the kitchen that is like ours at Hogwarts. It’s where we will have all our meals. Then past that is the formal dining room, which I never use. Now,” He turned his attention to his right. “Through this door just past the stairs, is my lab. You are not, under any circumstances, allowed to go in there unless I am present. I generally have a number of highly important and sometimes volatile potions brewing in there while I’m here and I don’t need you messing with anything or getting hurt because you’re too curious for your own good. Is that understood?”

“I’m not going to mess with anything. You let me in your lab at Hogwarts and I haven’t ruined anything yet. And besides, I’m not the one that blew up half a house.” Harry answered cheekily as he leaned against the side of the staircase with an amused look on his face. 

“Be that as it may,” Snape said dryly, “You will stay out.”

Harry continued to grin as they made their way upstairs. When they got to the second-floor landing, Snape pointed to the left end of the long hallway. “My room is at the end and my study is beside it. Here,” he said, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder, the fact that Harry hadn’t flinched at the touch went completely unnoticed by either of them, steering him towards the first room across from them, “is your room. It has a bathroom inside that will connect with Draco’s room when he gets here.” Harry made a face at this but said nothing, “And at the end of the hall on the opposite side, is nothing more than an extra bedroom and the landing allows anyone to look down into the dining room, though since it’s not used, you wouldn’t see much.”

Harry nodded to show that he was listening, while his eyes remained fixed on the large oak door in front of them. “Any questions before I leave you to unpack in your room?”

“Can I look around later?” He asked, turning on his heel to look back up at Snape.

“Eager to go exploring already, I see.”

“There’s not much else to do is there?”

Snape made no comment on that and instead replied, “You may look around as long as you stay only in the places you’re allowed to be. And don’t go outside unless you ask me first. The Headmaster has reinforced the wards around the property but I won’t take any chances.” 

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered.

“Alright,” Snape said, “Have a look at your room, but make sure you’re downstairs in time for lunch.” 

Harry nodded and reached his hand out to open the door as Snape continued on to his own room. 

“Snape?” 

Snape had just entered his room when he heard Harry’s call. He sighed to himself and turned back around. Harry was standing just inside the doorway, a look of shock on his face. “What is it, Potter?” Snape grew concerned when Harry didn’t answer him and so he walked back down the hallway to stand behind him. He looked in at the room but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“Are you sure this is the room that you meant for me to have? This must be Malfoy’s.”

“What in heaven’s name are you going on about, Potter?” Snape snapped. “I know precisely which room I’m giving to whom.”

“But, sir,” Harry tried again, “this room belongs in a palace or something.”

The bedroom that they were currently staring into was nothing short of magnificent. The floors were hardwood, gleaming mahogany, and there were several soft rugs scattered about. On the back wall, between two floor-to-ceiling windows, was the most intricately carved four-poster bed with navy blue hangings that were pulled back on all sides and attached to the posts. An end table sat on either side of it and his trunk was already on the floor at the end. The entire left side wall had built in bookshelves that surrounded a desk that was much bigger than the one Harry currently had at Hogwarts. In the middle of the room, sat a small grey couch with two overstuffed, matching chairs positioned across from it. A small, oval coffee table set between them. The right wall was bare except for the door that led to the bathroom and behind the main door stood a closet big enough for Harry to walk into. 

Now Snape understood. “Follow me, Potter.” 

Harry followed Snape into the bathroom and through the connecting door without even giving it a second glance, but when he stepped out into the other bedroom, his eyes widened. 

This room was almost exactly the same. The only difference being that the colors here were deep, forest green, and the sitting area was arranged differently. 

“The rooms are the same, Potter. However, you are free to decorate yours however you want as long as you keep it clean. The same rules that you have at Hogwarts apply here. I won’t have Jenka constantly cleaning up after you.” 

“I don’t know what to say,” Harry murmured, still looking around.

“You don’t need to say anything.” Snape assured him, “It’s only a bedroom. If you want, we can go into town sometime in the next few days and get some things to make it more your own?”

They had passed back through the bathroom, and Harry was relieved to see that it was rather simple and much like his own back in their quarters. “That’s okay,” he said, “I like it just fine how it is.”

Snape nodded. “If you change your mind, just let me know.”

Harry nodded as he ran his hand over the carved edges of the bed. Snape moved to walk out the door when suddenly he felt something hard run into him. He gasped, the air being knocked from his lungs, and turned around to find Harry firmly pressed against him, his arms wrapped tightly around his waist and his face buried in his robes. Snape was so taken aback that he didn’t immediately know what to do. He certainly wasn’t the hugging type. He didn’t even hug his parents and he had absolutely never been hugged by a child. 

But as he looked down at the messy mop of black hair, Snape suddenly felt something deep within him start to stir. James Potter’s son was hugging him. He took a deep breath and then slowly, so as not to startle the boy by the sudden movements, Snape lowered his arms to rest around the teenager. 

“Thank you.” He just barely heard Harry whisper.

Snape cleared his throat. Then as if acting of his own accord, his right hand reached up and carded its way through Harry’s hair. “You need a haircut.” He stated. He felt Harry give a small laugh at his words and Snape, though he would never admit it, smiled the smallest bit. “Honestly, child, it’s only a room. No need to get so worked up.”

Harry nodded and let go of the older man. “I’m going to unpack now.”

“See that you do.” Snape agreed, “And don’t let me catch things just haphazardly thrown about. Put it all away neatly in its proper place.”

“I will,” Harry said with another nod. Then he turned away from Snape and moved over to his trunk. Snape took one last look at the boy and walked out of the room.

Several minutes later, as Snape stood in his own room, his belongings magically putting themselves away, he sighed heavily and dropped down into a corner chair. He had no idea how to process what had just happened. 

What had been happening, if he were being honest with himself. Because now that Snape was thinking about it, there had been more than a few things that had shifted between the two and he hadn’t even noticed. 

Like how Harry seemed to enjoy their after-dinner tea, or how he almost always gave him the comics section of the newspaper in the mornings now. The way he had been helping him in the lab. Carefully moving around so that he didn’t accidentally knock into anything, and seeming to be genuinely interested in the potions he was brewing. Once or twice, Harry had even talked him into playing a game of chess with him. Though that usually came about by Harry pestering him until he finally gave in. However, the spells he had been teaching him were something that Snape was surprised to find that they both enjoyed. 

If someone had told him a month ago that he would be the guardian of one Harry Potter, he would have laughed in their face. 

Not James Potter’s son. No way.

And yet, here he was, the boy-who-lived in the room next door, completely floored by the simple act of having his own room. Something he should have been permitted to have all along. 

What all had those muggles done to him?! He had so far been unsuccessful in getting Harry to open up and talk about the abuse he had suffered at their hands. In fact, it had barely been brought up since that day in the hospital wing. Snape almost felt sick at the thought. Nearly a month he had been in his care and he hadn’t once since that day, tried to help that boy heal. 

Sure, he had given him the basic necessities and ensured that he had proper meals every day, but beyond that, he hadn’t done much at all. And now, here they were, Snape still having no idea the extent of the damage that had been done to the teenager whose care he had been trusted with. 

Well, he would fix that. Not because he cared for the boy. No, of course not, simply because he knew how unhealthy it was to keep things bottled up and repressed. That’s it. He would work harder to get the boy to open up and talk about how he was feeling and what it had been like growing up with those horrible people. 

Snape almost grinned. He could see Dumbledore now, his eyes twinkling at the very idea that Snape himself would be trying to help Jame’s Potter’s son. 

Lily’s son.

The thought brought him up short, just as it did every time he thought about how Lily would feel if she knew how he had treated her son in the past. How he was treating him now. 

He closed his eyes. “I’m so sorry.” He said quietly into the air around him, “Please forgive me.” 

Harry sat bolt upright in his bed two days later. Something was wrong. He felt so cold and yet when he looked down, his pajama shirt was soaked through and sticking to his skin. Suddenly a rush of saliva filled his mouth and he desperately tried to scramble out of the bed, knocking against the bedside table in his hurry and causing the clock that sat atop it to topple to the ground. He covered his mouth with his hand and hoped with all his might that he could make it to the bathroom. 

He did, but only just. All at once, his dinner was making a second appearance all over the bathroom floor. Hot tears sprang to his eyes as he held onto the sink with one hand and clutched his stomach with the other. 

Just as he was hoping that that would be the only time, he felt it again and this time he made it to the toilet before he began to retch forcefully again. 

Harry tried to calm his breathing. He was fine, he told himself. He’d been through this before back at Privet Drive. He just needed to calm down. He begged his stomach to slow its churning but it was no use. Just when he thought he was okay, he had to lean over the toilet once more. Til he was sure he had nothing left in his system.

Down the hall, in his own room, Snape awoke at the sound of his name. He looked over the side of his bed to see Jenka looking up at him with wide, fearful eyes. “Please, Master Snape, you must get up!”

“Jenka? What’s the matter?” He asked even as he was already moving to sit up.

“Master Harry, sir. He is sick and he is needing you.”

 Snape needed no further prodding and he quickly left his bed, pulling on his bathrobe as he made his way out the door. He rushed into Harry’s room without knocking and the sight he was greeted with stopped him in his tracks.

There on the bathroom floor, sat Harry, covered and surrounded by sick, dry heaving into the commode. Immediately Snape made to go to him but Harry, having just noticed that he’d come in, looked up at him with tear-filled eyes and cried, “P-please, d-don’t!” 

“What?” Snape ignored him in favor of taking the two more steps into the bathroom.

“I’m s-sorry!” Harry cried out again, “I’ll c-clean it up, I p-promise.”

Snape shook his head at the boy’s pleas and with a wave of his wand, the mess on the floor disappeared.

“I-I’m sorry.” Harry’s face was still a mess of snot and tears.

 “Good Heaven’s child.” He said softly as he walked the rest of the way into the bathroom and kneeled down next to Harry. “What on earth are you apologizing for?” He reached a hand up to feel Harry’s forehead and frowned. He was burning up with fever. 

“I woke you up,” Harry said, his voice still shaking slightly, but at least his tears had mostly stopped. He raised a hand to wipe them away on his pajama shirt.

“You did no such thing,” Snape assured him. “Jenka came and got me, and before you go apologizing for that, I’m glad she did. You’re sick you silly child.” 

He stood up then and conjured a glass and filled it with water before kneeling beside Harry once more. “Here.” He said, holding it out to him, “Do you think you can drink this? It’ll help with the taste in your mouth.”

With shaking hands, Harry reached out and carefully took the glass before bringing it to his lips. When he looked as if he might spill it, Snape gently placed his hand over his to steady it and Harry was able to take a few sips. He pushed it away after that though and shook his head.

“Alright,” Snape said. “Let’s get you cleaned up and back in bed, shall we?”

Harry looked down at his soiled clothes and groaned in disgust. “Ugh.”

“If you can, get those off and I’ll bring you some more.” 

Harry nodded and let Snape help him to stand to his feet. When he was sure that he wasn’t going to fall, Snape let him go and went back out into the bedroom. 

When he came back a moment later, Harry was standing in just his boxers in front of the sink. Snape handed him the fresh clothes and then turned away to give him privacy to change. Once he was done, Snape banished the dirty clothes and led Harry back to his bed. 

As Harry got in, Snape picked up the clock that had fallen over and replaced it on the table. Harry remained quiet as he watched Snape wave his wand once more and utter a spell. The next thing he knew, three bottles of potion were soaring through the air and landed with a soft clink on the table. 

It was too dark for Harry to see properly without his glasses on but he thought that the first one that Snape picked up was a bluish color. 

“Sit up, please,” Snape said as he sat on the edge of Harry’s bed and held out the potion. Harry did as he was asked and looked miserably at the potion before taking it. “It’s a stomach soother,” Snape answered his unasked question. “The others are a fever reducer and a calming draught so that you can get some sleep. You’re going to take the soother first so that you can keep the other two down.”

Harry nodded and for once, he didn’t complain at having to take a potion. He brought the liquid up to his mouth and swallowed it down quickly, grimacing at the taste. 

“Very good,” Snape said, holding out his hand for the empty vial before giving Harry the next one. “Now the fever reducer.” Harry took this one without complaint as well and then mercifully he only had the calming draught left. 

Once all three potions were down, Harry lay back down and Snape reached over to feel his forehead once more, pleased to see that it was already taking effect and that Harry was a bit cooler. He then took the blankets and pulled them up and over the boy’s shoulders. 

“Try and get some sleep. It’s only just after one in the morning. I’ll be just down the hall if you need me.” 

Harry didn’t answer but gave a small nod. His eyes were already becoming heavy as he watched Snape stand up and dim the lights in the room. Then before he could stop himself, Snape ran his hand over Harry’s hair, ruffling it lightly. Harry hummed in response, his eyes nearly closed now. 

Snape walked to the door but before he left, he turned back to take one last look at the boy now completely asleep in the bed. He would be fine now. Snape had brewed those potions himself and he knew that they were good. The stomach soother wouldn’t wear off for several hours, and yet, Snape couldn’t shake the feeling that he should stay close. 

And before he could talk himself out of it, Snape walked over to one of the overstuffed chairs and sat down. Just in case Harry woke early for some reason and needed him. He would be here.

Chapter Text

When Harry woke up the next morning, it took him a moment to remember why it was that he felt as awful as he did. He had sicked up right in front of his professor. How embarrassing! His stomach ached and his head was pounding. It took him longer still, to work out what Snape was doing sleeping on one of the overstuffed armchairs in his room. 

This was the second time since Harry had come to live with him that he had awoken to find the man so close. Had he been here all night? Why, when his own bed was just down the hall? 

Suddenly, his stomach began to ache painfully and he tried to stifle a groan as he curled in on himself, willing the stabbing pain to subside. Snape had only been resting quietly in the chair however and when he heard Harry’s gasp of pain, he immediately sat upright and looked over at the boy. 

“Potter?” He questioned as he stood up and began to make his way over to the bed.

“I’m fine,” mumbled Harry, his voice muffled by his pillow. 

Harry lay on his side, his eyes were squeezed shut and his face was pale and screwed up in pain as he wrapped his arms tighter around himself, bringing his knees up towards his chest.

“You ridiculous child,” Snape half-heartedly scolded, “do you think I am blind? I can clearly see that you are not fine.” Without another word, Snape sat on the edge of the bed, waved his wand, and then waited as more potions flew into Harry’s room. 

“Alright, sit up here so you can take these potions,” Snape said as he reached over and felt Harry's forehead. Harry flinched back at the contact but Snape paid it no mind. “Your fever is back up again. You need to take these potions, Potter.” When Harry only shook his head and burrowed deeper into the covers, Snape rolled his eyes. 

“Potter, are you in pain?”

Harry mumbled incoherently into his pillow once again and Snape sighed before pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. Clearly stronger tactics were needed.

“If you can not cooperate with me, then I suppose I should floo call Madam Pomfrey and have her come and have a look at you for herself.” 

“Sna-ape, nooo,” Harry whined as he finally turned his head to look up at the professor.

Snape raised his brows at the boy but made no further comment. Instead, he simply waited, and then with a sigh, Harry turned over and pushed himself up so that he was leaning against the headboard. 

“Very good.” Snape said with a nod and then asked, “What exactly is hurting you? And please refrain from whining when you answer me.” 

“I just feel sore all over, but it’s mostly just my stomach that hurts and my head.”

Snape reached over to where the potions had settled on Harry’s nightstand and picked up the first one. “A stomach soother first then.” Then as an afterthought, he added, “Would it help if it were flavored?” 

Harry blinked up at Snape slowly. Had he really just offered to flavor potions so that it would be easier for him to take?! What was going on here?

He sat up straighter and crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you being like this?” He demanded to know. “I’m not dying, Snape, I’ve just got the stomach flu or something.” He snapped.

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “I am perfectly capable, Potter, of coming to that conclusion myself. I merely thought you would prefer to take them if they were flavored to a taste you enjoy. I certainly won’t make that mistake again.” He thrust the potion vial towards Harry who took it instinctively, though he scowled at his guardian as he did so. 

“You don’t have to be so cross about it,” Harry muttered as he sniffed the potion, curling his nose up at the smell.

“Nor do you,” Snape replied evenly. “Sick or not, Potter, how you behave is entirely up to you. You can choose to wallow in your misery or you can attempt to have a positive attitude. I understand that you do not feel well and that you are exhausted. You’ve barely slept at all and the time you did sleep, you were restless because your body is fighting sickness, however, that doesn’t give you the right to be rude.”

Harry felt his face heat up, though he wasn’t sure if it was all from embarrassment at being scolded or if the fever had a lot to do with it. He made no further comment as he brought the dreaded potion to his lips and forced himself to drink it. Though instead of tasting an awful potion, he was surprised to find that it tasted like strawberries. 

Harry looked up with a small frown. “You flavored it anyway?”

“I did,” Snape answered simply, before taking the vial from him and replacing it with the fever reducer. Harry took it without a word and by the time he had taken all three, finding them all pleasant to taste, his eyes were shining and he felt his throat tighten with an emotion that he didn’t understand. 

“I’m sorry!” He blurted out. “I was a prat and you were still nice to me even though you didn’t have to be.”

“It’s quite alright, Potter,” Snape assured him as he stared down at him. “It’s certainly not something to get so worked up about. Why don’t you lay back down and get some rest, unless you feel as though you could eat something? Maybe light toast or perhaps some oatmeal?”

At these words, Harry shook his head furiously. “I don’t understand! Why are you being like this? Why did you bother with me last night when I could have handled it on my own? I always have and I manage just fine!”

“Potter,” Snape began, “your body needs rest. Working yourself up like this is not going to help anything. You need to calm down.”

“Not until you tell me why you’re acting like this! The Dursleys would never have given me medicine and they definitely wouldn’t have cleaned up that disgusting mess I made last night. Uncle Vernon would have just yelled at me and left me on the bathroom floor. But you- you helped me and gave me water and got me into bed. And- and then you made me take potions and you even stayed in here all night I think. Just like a- like a-”

“Like a guardian, Harry.” Snape interrupted, not even realizing that he had used Harry’s first name. Harry did realize though and he instantly quieted. “Why? Because that’s exactly what I am. I am your guardian. I am responsible for your well-being. I am. Not you. You should never have had to take care of anything like this yourself. You are a child.” Snape stressed his last words in hopes that they would sink into the boy’s head. 

He shifted on the bed so that he was facing him directly and said, “The entire fate of the world does not need to rest on your shoulders. You are thirteen. There will be plenty of times when you will need to be strong and capable. Plenty of times when you will have to fight and be put into dangerous situations. But right now, in this house, in my care, you need not be those things. Let me be the one to take care of you. That is obviously not a concept that you are familiar with, but I promise you, that is how it shall be.”

Harry nodded mutely, though he wasn’t sure that he believed those words. 

“Alright,” Snape said as he stood up. “Now, I want you to lie back and get some rest. If you truly don’t think you can eat anything now, that’s fine, however, I will insist that you at least try at lunch. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry responded as he lowered himself down into the blankets. Snape took them in his hands and brought them up and over Harry’s shoulders, unconsciously letting his hand rest there for a moment before standing up straight. 

“I’ll be just downstairs, but if you need me, Jenka will let me know.”

“M’kay,” Harry murmured as he rolled over onto his side.

As Snape dimmed the lights and left the room, all Harry could think about was how he had, for the first time since he’d known the man, called him Harry instead of Potter. He was sure that it had just been a slip of the tongue, an accident, or at most, a way to get Harry’s attention and force him to calm down, but Harry thought about it all the same. 

He thought also about how Snape had said that he wanted to take care of him. He still didn’t believe it, but would it really be so bad to let someone else take over? Even if it was just for a little while? 

These thoughts and more swirled around Harry’s mind until he finally drifted to sleep.

  Later that day, Snape sat alone at the dining room table, eating a cold chicken salad sandwich. Harry had been begging to get out of bed for most of the day but Snape had insisted that he needed to rest and had instructed Jenka to take him his lunch in his room. 

Now, however, Snape almost wished that he had allowed him to get up to join him. He had grown used to Harry’s presence and near-constant chatter during their meals and without it, the room felt too quiet. He decided that after lunch, he would allow the boy to get up as long as he promised to rest quietly in the living room. He hadn’t been sick anymore today but he still didn’t want him to overdo it. 

Snape had thought of almost nothing else all day except for their conversation that morning. He’d tried to get some brewing done in his lab but he simply couldn’t concentrate on his tasks and ended up having to banish the potion he had been working on because he had added the wrong ingredient without realizing it until it was too late. After that, he had given up altogether and spent the rest of the morning alternating between reading in the living room and checking on Harry. 

Snape sighed as he finished his food and vanished it from the table. He stood up and made his way up the stairs and over to Harry’s room. He knocked lightly before he opened the door to find Harry sitting up on his bed, his defense book open on his lap. Harry looked up expectantly when he heard Snape enter.

“Did you finish your lunch?” Snape asked.

Harry nodded towards the tray that sat on his desk. “Most of it.” 

“And are you feeling sick at all?” 

“Nope. Can I get up now?” Harry tossed his book aside but made no move to actually leave the bed. 

Snape crossed his arms and looked down at him. “I am inclined to allow you to get up, but only if you promise to rest in the living room.”

Harry groaned. “Awe, Snape! I’ve been resting all day.”

Snape shook his head. “That is your only option, young man. Either rest quietly on the couch or stay up here. It’s up to you.”

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Fine.” Then, he added, “Will you play a game of chess with me?” 

“I suppose that could be arranged,” Snape answered without hesitation. 

“Alright,” Harry smiled and stood up. 

“Bring your blanket and pillow, please.” 

Harry did as he was asked and followed the older man downstairs. Once he was settled on the couch, Snape set up the chessboard on the coffee table and moved his chair closer so that he wouldn’t have to reach as far to play. 

“Am I going to have to stay in bed again tomorrow?” Harry asked as he made his first move. “I feel loads better now, honest.”

“We shall see in the morning but I do not think so. Seems to me that it was just a small case of the stomach flu.”

“Told you,” Harry grumbled before deciding to change the subject. “When is Malfoy coming again?”

Snape sighed as he moved his pawn forward. “The day after tomorrow.”

“So just one more day then.” Harry glumly stared down at the board, thinking about his next move.

“One more day?” Snape asked, “No, don’t move that there, you’re setting it up to be taken.” 

Since Snape had started playing chess with Harry in the evenings, he had been trying to teach him to better his game. Harry hoped that maybe this year he might actually beat Ron. 

“Yeah,” Harry removed his hand from the piece and looked for another. “Only one more day until it’ll be two against one.”

Snape shook his head. “I already told you that it won’t be like that.”

“You say that, but what’s stopping him? And besides, it’s not like you can be nice to me without him being suspicious.”

“He will not do anything. Trust me. The way I treat you will not change.” Snape said simply.

Harry leaned back into the couch cushions, the game temporarily forgotten. “I think you’re giving Malfoy a bit more credit than he deserves.”

Snape looked up, frown firmly in place. “I’m giving you both more credit than you deserve. There’s not to be any fighting between you two while he’s here. I expect you both to behave like proper gentlemen.”

“I will if he does,” Harry said, leaning his head in his hands. He was starting to feel tired again but he hoped that Snape wouldn’t notice.

“You both will. I mean it, Potter.” 

Harry looked up but made no comment. Snape had gone back to calling him Potter and it reaffirmed Harry’s idea that he hadn’t meant to call him by his first name at all that morning. Harry had tried to convince himself that it didn’t matter, that he hadn’t hoped that maybe he and Snape had come to some sort of unspoken truce in the time that he had been living here, but the truth was, it mattered. It mattered to Harry and he wasn’t even sure why. All he knew was that now, hearing Snape call him by his last name, suddenly felt like a punch in the gut and Harry didn’t like it one bit. 

“Potter, are you even listening to me?” Snape asked.

Harry nodded. “Yes, Snape, I heard you. No fighting with Malfoy. I’ll be a good little boy and stay out of trouble, but I don’t know what you expect me to do when he starts something first. And you know he will.”

Snape sighed. If he survived the week with them, it would be a miracle. “I’m going to talk with him, but if he starts something anyway, I expect you to walk away and come tell me.”

Harry scoffed. “Sure, Snape, I’ll just come tattle on him. That’ll really help things.” 

Harry stifled a yawn behind his hand that Snape noticed all too quickly. “You’re tired already. Are you sure you feel okay?”

Harry’s shoulders dropped as he looked miserably over at Snape. “I’m fine. I promise.” 

“Lie down anyway and take a nap. I’ll wake you for supper. And don’t worry about Draco. Just trust me.”

Harry barely nodded as he was already burrowing deeper into the soft and warm fabric of his blankets, the chess game over before it had even really started.

Much too soon for Harry’s liking, the day had come for Draco’s arrival. When the wards had alerted Snape that someone had apparated through, he immediately sent Harry upstairs to his room. He didn’t want to take any chances of him being seen by Lucius.  

As desperately as Harry wanted to know what was going on downstairs, he refrained from sneaking to the top of the stairs in order to eavesdrop. For one thing, Snape would kill him, and for another, he didn’t actually want to take a chance on being seen by the older Malfoy. Besides, he figured that the look on Malfoy’s face when he saw him in Snape’s house would be worth all the waiting. 

Eventually, Harry heard a loud pop and suddenly Jenka stood in front of where he sat on the couch. She looked up at him with wide eyes and a smile that Harry returned. He had grown to like Jenka very much in the time that he had been with Snape.

“Master Harry Potter, sir, Master Snape is sending Jenka to tell you to come downstairs, sir.” 

Harry nodded. “Alright. I’m on my way.” As he stood up to leave, Jenka bowed low before disappearing out of sight. 

Harry quickly made his way downstairs and into the living room. Draco was sitting in the armchair and hadn’t noticed him yet. In Harry’s armchair. He narrowed his eyes at the blonde, not even really understanding why that seeing Draco sitting there was bothering him so much. He caught Snape’s eye and cleared his throat. “Jenka said you wanted me to come down.” 

Draco’s head shot up the second he heard Harry speak. “Potter! What are you doing here?” He sneered. He stood abruptly from his seat and crossed the room to stand in front of Harry.

“Same as you, Malfoy, I’m staying with Snape.” 

“Yeah, right!” Draco turned to face Snape who was watching the interaction closely. “What’s he really doing here, Uncle Severus?” 

“Uncle Severus?!” Harry couldn’t keep from laughing at the idea that anyone would call Snape that and live to tell about it!

“Shut it, Potter!” Draco spat, turning back around. “Shouldn’t you be with your filthy muggle relatives, hiding away somewhere like you do every summer? What? Even they wouldn’t take you back this year?”

“Boys,” Snape warned as he stood up, however before he could say more, Harry shot Draco a fierce look and said, “You don’t know a thing about it, you spoiled, pompous little prat! I’ve been with Snape practically all summer.” 

“That’s enough!” Snape stepped up next to the two, fully prepared to put his foot down before things got any more heated, but the teenagers had other ideas.

“I bet!” Draco shot back, ignoring Snape all together. The boys had inched closer to each other and they now stood toe to toe. “As his charity case, no doubt!”

“Jealous?” Harry glowered, his green eyes blazing. “I’m sure you’d gladly stay with Snape if it meant getting away from your father.”

Draco smirked and turned away. For a moment Snape thought that maybe that would be the end of it. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“At least I still have one.” He muttered, just loud enough for Harry and Snape to hear. “I don’t have to play pretend with Professor Snape to know what it feels like to have a parent.”

All the color seemed to drain from Harry’s face at once. 

“No!” Snape yelled but it was too late, without giving his actions a second thought, Harry lunged at Draco, tackling him to the ground.

Chapter Text

“No!” Snape yelled but it was too late, without giving his actions a second thought, Harry lunged at Draco, tackling him to the ground.

Snape stared for a moment in abject horror as the two boys in his care rolled around on the floor in a tangled mess of long arms and legs, each attempting to throw punches and rib jabs while avoiding being hit themselves.

The fight, if one could even call it that considering neither of the teenagers was particularly well versed in muggle fist fighting, came to a halt when Snape reached down and grabbed a collar in each hand. One below messy black hair and the other below silver-white. He pulled the two boys apart easily, then quickly let go of their collars to get between them and put a firm hand on each of their chests. Though they were still hurling insults at each other, now they could no longer reach across Snape to land any more blows. 

“That is quite enough!” He snapped, glaring evenly at each of them in turn. “I am absolutely appalled at both of you!” 

“He started it!” Draco shouted, struggling against Snape’s hold.

“I’ll bloody well finish it, too!” Harry shot back angrily. 

“I’m finishing it!” Snape marched them over to the couch and unceremoniously pushed them down into opposite ends of it before standing in front of them with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He glared down at Harry first, who crossed his own arms and refused to meet his gaze.

“You knew better, young man,” he scolded. “Did we not, on several occasions, have conversations about how you were to behave while Draco was here?”

Harry looked over to see Draco smirking and felt an intense urge to tackle him once more. “But, Snape, he-”

“Answer me, Potter?” Snape demanded, his voice low in the way that Harry knew that he wasn’t going to put up with much more. 

Harry sighed. “Yes, sir.” He answered quietly, lowering his eyes to his knees so that he wouldn’t have to look at Snape or see the smug look on Malfoy’s face. He had known all along that this was how it would be. He would be in trouble for everything and Malfoy would be Snape’s favorite, just like always. 

“And you,” Snape said sternly and Harry glanced up just in time to see the smile drop from Malfoy’s face as Snape pinned him with an icy stare. “When has it ever been acceptable for you to behave in a manner so unbefitting to a young man of your stature? Certainly, you wouldn’t behave that way at home?”

Harry watched as Malfoy swallowed hard and shook his head. 

“Never, Uncle Severus.” 

Snape hummed in thought before saying, “Let us be glad that your father was not here to witness such an abysmal scene.” Malfoy dropped his head and nodded. 

“Now,” Snape started as he continued to glare down at them as if they were in class and they had just mucked up a first-year potion, “I am perfectly aware that this situation is not ideal for any of us and I understand that the two of you do not get along.” Harry tried hard not to tune out his professor as he began with the same speech that he had been giving Harry over and over again since the first time he had told him that Malfoy would be coming. “However, I expect you to at least act civil to each other. I will not put up with any fighting or arguing between you. Is that understood?”

Both boys gave a grudgingly “Yes, sir”, but only because they knew Snape wouldn’t let them go until they had. Neither of them meant it and they both knew it. 

Snape nodded, getting down to business, “Alright. Now, I suppose neither of you looks any worse for wear despite your attempts to pummel each other. Draco, you could use a bruise cream on your cheek so we’ll get that upstairs when we get you settled in. Potter,” he said turning his attention to Harry, “you look okay but are you hurt anywhere that I can’t see?”

Harry shook his head no.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, sir. I’m fine.” 

“Very well, then you’re free to go. Draco, let’s get your things upstairs. It won’t be long until time for supper and I want everything unpacked and put away before then.”

With that, Snape waved his wand at Malfoy’s luggage that had been stacked by the doorway and it began to float out and up the stairs. They followed after it, leaving Harry alone in the living room.

Harry wandered around the living room for a moment, giving them ample time to get upstairs, before he also left the room and headed into the kitchen in search of something to do. Usually, he would be doing chores or reading right now but he had taken care of all of that earlier that morning and now he was left feeling quite bored.  

“Jenka?” He hesitantly called. He had never actually called for the house-elf himself but Snape had said if he ever needed anything that he could. 

Unsurprisingly, in the next moment, a loud pop filled the air and the small elf was in front of him. 

“Master Harry Potter, Sir!” Jenka exclaimed as she bowed so low that her nose almost touched the floor. “How can Jenka be’s helping you, sir?”

“It’s just Harry, Jenka,” said Harry as he stooped down so that he was closer to her level, then before she could protest against calling him by only his first name, he continued, “I was just wondering, have you already made supper?”  

Jenka shook her head. “No sir, Master Harry Potter, Jenka was just about to start-”

“Can I do it?” Harry interrupted.

Jenka tilted her head to the side and stared up at him. “Is something being wrong with Jenka’s cooking, sir?” 

“What?” Harry asked, confused. “No! No, no, no. Not at all. Your cooking is fantastic, Jenka. I just had an idea to surprise Snape is all, you see?” 

Jenka’s mouth opened to form a small ‘o’ before she smiled brightly. “A surprise?!” she squealed. “A surprise for Master Snape?! Oh, how wonderful?! No one ever surprises Master Snape, sir!”

“Shhh.” Harry held his hands up and tried to quieten the excited elf. “Jenka, please be quiet or he’ll hear you.” 

Jenka quieted at once though she was still grinning widely as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “Yes, Master Harry Potter, sir, Jenka will be very quiet so that Master Snape can be surprised.”  

“Brilliant!” Harry smiled back at her. 

Jenka tilted her head once more than and asked, “Master Harry Potter, sir, does know how to cook, yes?”

Harry nodded, still smiling. “Yes, I’ve cooked loads of times at my relatives.” 

“Jenka will stay close by anyway, just in case Master Harry Potter, sir, is needing her.” 

And with that, Jenka disappeared and Harry’s plan was set in motion.

Upstairs, Snape and Draco had stopped off to get the bruise balm for Draco’s cheek before heading to his room and when they walked in, Draco turned around to face Snape.

“So what’s he really doing here, Uncle Severus?” Asked Draco as he began to unpack his trunk.

“Dumbledore asked that I provide him with a place to stay for the summer until something more permanent can be found,” Snape answered simply, leaning against the door jamb. 

“Alright, but why you? Why not someone else? It’s not like Potter doesn’t have plenty of other adoring fans. What about the Weasleys? Though I doubt they could afford the extra mouth to feed.” He added with a sneer.

“Draco,” Snape said warningly, “Potter is here whether you like it or not so you might as well get used to it.”

         Draco turned cold, grey-blue eyes towards his teacher. “Well I don’t like it, and once my father finds out-“

“No!” Snape cut him off sharply. He moved away from the door and came to sit on the edge of one of Draco’s chairs, then more calmly he said, “Draco, your father can’t know that Potter is staying here.”

“Why not?” Draco asked, “I’m sure that if he knew he would be able to get you out of it. You know he has pull with the Ministry. He could probably get them to take him away like that.” Draco snapped his fingers and Snape felt his heartbeat increase. 

“No, Draco.”

Draco stared at Snape with narrowed eyes for a long moment before replying. “Do you know what I think? I think you’re starting to care about him. Admit it, you’ve brought him to live with you and now you like the bloody boy-who-lived!”

Snape seemed thoughtful and for a while he stayed perfectly silent, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and steepling his fingers in front of him. Eventually he sighed and said, 

“And would that be such a horrible thing?”

“Yes!” Draco snapped, tossing the last of his clothing from his trunk to his bed. “He’s the enemy!”

Snape shook his head. “He’s not the enemy. He’s a child just as you are.”

“I’m not a child!” Draco sneered, then as if to prove his point, he pulled his wand out of where he had it tucked into his shirt sleeve, waved it over everything that remained, and said, “Auverte.”

Suddenly the rest of Draco’s possessions began to put themselves away and he turned to Snape with his arms crossed. 

“Very good.” Snape said, “Though you could have enunciated the second syllable a bit more clearly.” 

Draco rolled his eyes and turned away from the older man. 

“Draco, I know that this is the last thing you expected, but there are things that you don’t know. Things going on that you couldn’t possibly, in all of your thirteen-year-old wisdom, understand.” Snape spoke to the back of the boy’s head but he could tell that he was listening. “I’m not asking that you and Potter become friends here. I’m aware that that would be entirely too much to ask, but as I said downstairs, I expect civility at the very least.”

Draco whirled back around. “Why does he get to be here? How long is he going to stay?” 

“I do not know,” Snape answered truthfully. He needed, he wanted to be honest with Draco. He wanted him to understand. “We have made arrangements in case a more permanent guardian hasn’t been found in time for the new school year, though it would have to remain a secret.” He said pointedly. “But for all I know, they could find someone and place him with them next week.”

“But you want him to stay,” Draco said quietly. It wasn’t a question but rather a confirmation of what he already knew.

Snape sighed and when he spoke, his voice held a note of sadness. “Draco, I-”

Draco was shaking his head and turning around to storm out of the room.

Snape caught him by the elbow and spun him back around, careful not to exert enough pressure to hurt the small boy. “Draco, I need your word.” He said firmly. 

Draco huffed and grit his teeth together as he looked away. Finally, though, he wrenched his arm away and said, “You have it,” before turning away and walking through his bedroom door. 

Snape stood alone in the middle of Draco’s room for a long moment. He replayed their conversation over in his head again. Did he? Did he care for Potter? It was a question that he had honestly been avoiding asking himself for days. But now with Draco asking it so outright, stating it as fact really, it seemed pointless, ridiculous even, to keep skirting around it. 

Had Severus Snape, feared and most hated Potions Master of Hogwarts, former Death Eater, (if even just to fulfill his duties as a spy for the Light) and the Bat of the Dungeons, begun to care for Harry Potter? A boy whose own father had been Snape’s worst enemy in school? Whose mother he had loved more than nearly anyone else he had known? 

No. This wouldn’t be about them. It couldn’t be. This wasn’t about Snape caring for James’ son, or even Lily’s son. Were this any other child, their parentage wouldn’t matter and it shouldn’t matter now. No, this was about whether or not Snape cared about Harry. Cared about him for the boy he is rather than who his parents were. He had already vowed to himself that he wouldn’t let that cloud his judgment any longer and to do so now would be wrong. He owed that much at least to the boy. 

And so Snape stood up straight and took a deep, steadying breath before taking the first steps that would lead him out of Draco’s room and back downstairs to wherever the boy happened to be. 

Because now that he thought about it, really considered it without adding in factors that never should have been vying for a place in his mind to begin with, the answer was clear. 

Severus Snape cared for Harry Potter. 

He wasn’t sure when it had happened, whether it had come upon him all at once or slowly over the last few weeks, but he would guess the latter. It didn’t matter though, the end result was still the same. Draco had been right. He didn’t want Harry to leave. 

As Snape stepped off the landing into the foyer, another thought struck him, hard, right between the ribs.

What if Harry didn’t feel the same way? What if he couldn’t wait to leave? It hadn’t seemed that way, especially over the last couple of weeks, but could Snape have just misread the situation. What if all this introspection had been for nothing because Harry didn’t care about him in return? The very idea seemed to take his breath away and he found himself taking a hold of the banister in order to keep his balance. 

All at once, those feelings of rejection and of not ever being good enough, feelings that he thought he had buried long ago, rose back up in Snape. The ugly shame he had felt after every beating at his father’s hands, after every time he threw him out the back door of their small, rotting house on Spinner’s End, after every time that someone saw the bruises. 

Snape hadn’t imagined that these feelings could still hurt so much after all these years. Especially not because of a thirteen-year-old boy.  

Suddenly, a loud crash sounded from the kitchen and Snape was immediately on alert, all other thoughts and worries momentarily pushed aside. He crossed to the other side of the foyer and was at the kitchen door with just a few long strides. His hand was just hovering over where his wand was attached to its holster inside his left cuff when the sight before him caused him to pause.

Harry stood in the middle of the kitchen, his back to the counter and blushing furiously, staring wide-eyed at Snape, who looked down to see a pan on the floor with chopped carrots and brussel sprouts spilled out everywhere.

“What on earth?” Snape asked, moving into the kitchen. His confusion at the sight was evident in his voice and in the way his brows knit together as he looked first from Harry then to the mess on the floor.

“It was an accident.” Harry was quick to say. “I-I didn’t mean to.”

“Obviously,” Snape said in his usual dry voice. “What are you doing?”

“I-” Harry started but then snapped his mouth shut, clearly not wanting to give away his surprise. Instead, he crossed his arms and eyed the man suspiciously. “What are you doing? You never come in the kitchen before supper. You’re usually in your lab or in your study.” 

Snape raised one brow and crossed his own arms, glaring down at the teenager before him. “That, I do not believe, is any of your concern, young man. However, whatever you are doing here, knocking over the preparations for our dinner, accidentally or otherwise, happens to be my concern. So I will ask you just once more, Potter, what are you doing?” 

The way he enunciated each word of the last sentence had Harry dropping not only his arms to his sides but also his head. He let out a huff. When had he started letting Snape’s words affect him so much? He hadn’t even been scolding him, not really anyway, and yet Harry felt once more like the giant squid from the Black Lake had come to swim around in his stomach. 

“I was cooking.” He said quietly, then a bit louder he added, “Jenka said I could.”

“You were cooking? Why?”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” he murmured, looking down as he shoved his hands in his pockets and scuffed at the floor with the toe of his trainers. “To sort of, I dunno, make up for getting into that fight with Malfoy?” 

Harry didn’t look up. If he had, he would have seen the barest of smiles quirk Snape’s lips before he quickly schooled his features into his usual glower.

“That wasn’t a very smart thing to do, was it? Getting into a fight so soon after you had promised me that you would behave?”

Harry shook his still lowered head. “No, sir.” 

“Then if I were you, I would endeavor not to let it happen again.”

Harry raised his mop of dark hair and emerald green eyes met black.

“That’s it? I’m not in trouble?” 

Snape forced his tone to soften as much as he could. “That’s it. You are not in trouble and there is certainly no need for you to “make up” for anything.”

“So then you’re not still mad?” Harry felt the need to clarify. 

Snape shook his head. “I was disappointed that you didn’t seem to have taken our earlier conversations seriously and had disregarded them so quickly, but no, I am not mad.”

Harry looked down once more. He thought that he would prefer Snape’s anger over his disappointment in him any day. “I’m sorry.” 

Snape nodded and walked closer to him. “Apology accepted.” Then he turned to the mess on the floor and quickly vanished it with a wave of his wand.

Harry smiled. “You’re going to have to teach me that one.”

“I suppose you’re right. We’ll add it to the list.” Snape said before taking off his outer robe and folding it neatly over one of the chairs that sat at the table. When he turned back to face Harry, he was rolling up the sleeves of his crisp, white shirt.

“Now,” he began as he reached up to undo the top button of his shirt as well. “What were you cooking? If we work together, I bet we can still finish it in time for dinner.” He came to stand beside Harry but when the boy only stared at him in surprise, he asked, “What is it?”

Harry quickly looked away trying to hide the grin that was now plastered on his face.

“Nothing,” he said, picking up the knife and a carrot to resume his chopping. “I’ve just only seen you in muggle clothes once. You should go without the robes more often, it makes you look less like a bat. It is summer, after all.”

Snape glared but there was no real heat behind it. “And who says I want to look less like a bat? How better to scare children everywhere?”

“I’m just saying,” Harry looked back with a laugh, “people might find you more approachable if they saw you this way.”

Snape picked up another knife and set to work quartering the brussel sprouts. “The very last thing I need is to be more approachable, you cheeky brat.” 

Harry shrugged, not even slightly insulted, as he dropped a handful of cut carrots into the new pan. “Still, you look more your age this way. Relaxed, even.” 

Snape gave him a sidelong glance and replied, “Are you done discussing my clothing choices?”

Harry smirked. “I dunno, does it make you uncomfortable?” 

“Potter.” 

The teen laughed again. “Alright, fine. I’m done.” 

Snape watched as Harry concentrated on cutting the carrots into precise, bite-sized pieces. “When did you learn to cook?” He asked.

Harry’s hand stilled the simple question causing his shoulders to stiffen. He couldn’t answer honestly. Even Harry knew that five was much too young to be using a stove and he was sure that Snape would agree. 

“When did you learn?” Harry deflected the question in hopes of keeping their light banter going. “I never pictured you for the domestic cooking type, Snape.”

Snape sighed and answered honestly. “I suppose when I was about your age. After my mother died I had to learn or it would have been cold sandwiches every night. Though even then I don’t think I would have attempted a meal such as this. And I asked you first.”

“My aunt taught me,” Harry said simply, reaching for the last carrot in the pile and cutting it with painstaking precision.

Snape had stopped cutting the brussel sprouts now and simply turned so that his hip rested against the counter as he stared down at him. “Also not what I asked. Why don’t you want to tell me?” 

Harry grit his teeth and tried to ignore him. He didn’t want to start talking about the Dursleys. He wanted to just stand here, next to Snape, and cook without everything getting tense and all messed up again. He hardly ever got to just be with the older man and he didn’t want to ruin it with talk that he knew would upset his new guardian. 

Snape didn’t make a habit of letting things go, but looking down at Harry who so clearly wanted this conversation to be over, he was painfully reminded of himself. Of having nearly exact conversations with Albus and Minerva after he had come to live with them. He sighed.

“Alright.” He spoke as gently as he knew how. Harry didn’t look up but he could tell he was listening by the way that his eyes shifted over to settle on the counter near Snape. “You don’t want to talk about it now and I’m not going to make you.” He watched as Harry’s shoulders relaxed almost immediately, his eyes closing for a brief second before he gave a short nod. “However,” Snape continued, “I’m going to insist that we do talk soon.”

Harry groaned. “Why?” He looked up then, his eyes pleading with Snape to just let this go. “Why do you care if I talk about every little thing or not?”

“Because believe it or not, talking helps. Little by little, it helps.”

“How do you know?” Harry snapped.

Snape didn’t waver. He didn’t look away, though it took a lot of effort. “Because I know what it feels like. Because I’ve stood where you stand.” Snape swallowed hard. “Because my father abused me and that’s why I was taken away from him.” 

Harry’s eyebrows knit together as he frowned. “You?”

Snape nodded. “Me.”

Harry sighed and turned back to drop the last carrot into the pan. “I still don’t want to talk about it.” 

“I know.” Snape turned back to his own task. “But as your guardian and as someone who…” He paused, unsure how to put into words exactly what he wanted to say. He knew though, that rejection or not, he owed it to Harry to be upfront with him. He decided to just rush through it. “As someone who cares about you, I’m still going to insist.” 

He saw Harry’s head snap up to look at him out of the corner of his eye, though he didn’t return the gaze. Instead, he continued speaking as if his words were only just that. “If you would rather not talk to me about it, I could certainly set up an appointment with-”

“No!” Harry cut him off sharply. “Definitely not.” 

“Then you’ll talk to me?” Snape asked, still not looking up.

Harry sighed, still reeling over what he’d just heard but also knowing that Snape wasn’t going to just drop the conversation either. 

“If I really have to.” Harry reluctantly agreed.

“You really have to.” 

Just then they heard someone enter the kitchen and both turned to see Draco standing in the doorway, his broomstick in his hand.

“Don’t you both look cozy?” He sneered.

Harry narrowed his eyes but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to get into another row with Malfoy so soon after the last one. 

Snape wiped all expression from his face and asked, “Would you like to help with dinner, Draco?”

Malfoy looked disgusted at the very idea. “Do I look like a house-elf?” 

One look from Snape in his direction had Malfoy backpedaling to change the subject. He held up his broom as if its gleaming handle hadn’t been noticed the second he’d walked in. “May I go flying for a bit, Uncle Severus?” 

Harry wanted to roll his eyes at how impeccable his manners were whenever he was around the adults. Always trying to get them to think he wasn’t a slimy snake. But again, Harry refrained and instead turned back to the counter. 

“You may.” Snape was saying, “but I want you back inside in time to wash up for dinner.” 

“Yes, sir.” Malfoy nodded and was off. 

Harry narrowed his eyes and suddenly that same feeling he’d had when he saw Malfoy sitting in his chair earlier was back. If he had asked to go flying, Snape would have given him about a thousand rules. “Stay inside the wards, Potter.” “Don’t do any hair-brained stunts, Potter.” “You only have thirty minutes, Potter.” But with Malfoy, all he got was told to be back in time to eat? How was that fair?

“I borrowed one of the school brooms, you know.” Harry jerked his head up at the sound of Snape’s voice. “In case you wanted to go flying as well. I could finish up here if you did.” 

Harry stamped down the urge to smile at the idea that Snape had brought a broom for him to use while they were here and instead looked pointedly at the place where Malfoy had been then back up at Snape with a smirk. “I don’t think so.”

Snape shook his head. “It was only a suggestion.” But as Harry turned away from him to put the pan of carrots on the stove to begin cooking, Snape was almost glad he had declined the offer.

Chapter Text

  Dinner was a relatively quiet affair. Snape and Harry sat in their usual spots at the dinner table, with Snape at the head and Harry to his right. Draco sat across from Harry and glared down at his food, pushing it around on his plate more than he was actually eating it. 

“I don’t want this.” He said with a sneer. “It’s disgusting.”

Harry knew that he was only saying it to try and rile him up and therefore, he tried to ignore him. He and Snape had worked hard on the lemon chicken, mashed potatoes and carrots, and brussel sprouts and he knew that it all tasted just fine. Harry simply looked at Draco and took another bite of his chicken. 

Draco, still trying to get a response, sighed heavily. “Isn’t there anything else?” 

This time, Harry opened his mouth to tell Malfoy to get over himself, but before the words could come out, he remembered his earlier conversation with Snape and promptly pressed his lips together and said nothing. He glanced up at Snape and was surprised to see him staring back at him intently. He wasn’t smiling exactly, but Harry thought for a moment that the man looked pleased about something. Harry shook the thought away and once more turned back to his food.

“You do not have to eat it, Draco,” Snape said suddenly. “However, if you choose not to, you will need to either fix yourself a sandwich or wait until breakfast in the morning. I will not ask Jenka to make something else just because you don’t want what we’re having.”

“But, Uncle Severus,” Draco whined, “it’s terrible.”

“It is no such thing,” Snape countered cooly and speared a piece of chicken with his fork. 

Draco huffed but said nothing else on the subject. 

As always, after dinner, Snape retired to the living room where tea and biscuits were already waiting for them on the coffee table. Draco took Harry’s seat next to Snape. Harry could feel that same emotion from earlier that day, bubbling up inside him, but he swallowed it down and instead, reached for his red-rimmed teacup before Draco had a chance to steal that as well.  

Draco noticed his quick grab and eyed him intently for a moment before choosing another cup, this one with a blue edge, and fixing his tea how he liked it.

They drank in relative silence for a while before Draco turned to Snape.

“Uncle Severus,” he said, “Why is there a school broom in the cupboard? I noticed it when I got mine out earlier.” 

Harry grit his teeth. 

“I brought it for Potter to use,” Snape replied simply before taking a drink of his tea. 

That only served to bring Draco’s attention back to Harry as he looked at him with genuine confusion. “Where’s your Nimbus 2000, Potter? Surely the muggles didn’t keep it,” he said smugly. 

Harry thought about how much he hated the boy across from him. “I don’t have it anymore,” was all he said before glaring down into his tea. But of course, that wouldn’t be enough for Draco, so he continued to push for answers.

“What happened to it?”  

The very last thing that Harry wanted to do was explain about the dementors and how he’d been out flying when he wasn’t supposed to. He sighed. “A flying accident last month. It was irreparable when it was found.” 

Harry didn’t miss the look of deep satisfaction that crossed Draco’s face before Snape spoke up. “I believe it’s time for the two of you to get ready for bed.” 

Both boys looked up at the clock. It was just now nine-thirty. 

“It’s too early!” Draco protested immediately.

“It’s not even ten!” Harry began at the same time. 

“By the time you both get ready, it will be close enough.” 

“But I thought we could play a game of chess tonight.” Harry continued, ignoring the way Draco rolled his eyes at him. 

“Not tonight.” Snape shook his head and tapped the top of the table, clearing it instantly. “I have a lot of work to get done before tomorrow.” 

Draco started to argue more but before he had a chance to say anything, Snape cut him off with a pointed look. “Enough. Both of you are going upstairs right now. You are going to get ready for bed and then you are going to sleep. I will be up there in exactly twenty minutes and I expect to find you both in your beds. Is that understood?” 

“Yes, sir,” they both answered dutifully before turning to reluctantly head upstairs.

Harry made use of the bathroom first and he was glad that he did because Draco took so long that he had only just come out right before their twenty minutes were up. And true to his word, Harry heard Snape enter Draco’s room exactly on time. 

Harry listened hard but was unsurprised when he could hear no more than muffled voices coming from the room next door. Not that Harry cared what they were talking about. At least, that’s what he told himself. 

A few moments later, Snape knocked lightly on Harry’s own bedroom door before opening it and coming inside. 

“I’m glad to see you listened,” Snape said as he came to stand next to Harry’s bed and held his hand out for his glasses. 

Harry took them off and gave them to him, his vision immediately blurring at their loss. Then he burrowed down into his bed and pulled the blankets up to his shoulders as he turned over onto his side. Snape watched him with a frown on his face that Harry could just make out. 

“What?” Harry asked. 

“You need a haircut,” Snape replied without hesitation. 

Harry’s eyes bulged. “No, I don’t.” 

“Yes, you do. It’s nearly covering your eyes. I can’t believe I allowed you to go this long without it being cut.” 

“Nobody makes you cut your hair,” Harry grumbled.

“I’m an adult.” He countered smoothly. “You are my ward and I’ll not have you running amuck looking like a common hooligan.” 

“No one says hooligan anymore, Snape.” Harry said and then with a frown of his own, he added, “And if no one is supposed to know that I’m your ward, what does it matter if my hair is long?” 

“It matters, Potter. We will get it cut before we return to Hogwarts.” He said matter of factly and Harry scowled. 

Snape began walking around Harry’s room just as he did most nights, cleaning up the things that Harry left lying about. Though Harry wasn’t sure why he bothered if he knew he would just have to do it again the next night. When he had finished, Snape turned back to Harry.

“I am,” he paused as if trying to find the right words for what he wanted to say, “quite proud of the restraint you showed tonight at dinner and during tea. You did not allow yourself to be drawn into an argument with Draco even though he was clearly hoping you would be.” 

Harry couldn’t help the smile that these few words of praise from Snape had caused. “Thanks.” He muttered, focusing his attention down on the bedsheets.

Snape nodded and then as if by their own volition, his hands moved and carded through Harry’s hair. The only other time he had done that was the night that Harry had been sick. He noticed that Harry hadn’t flinched away from him. On the contrary, the teen’s eyes closed and he almost seemed to lean into the touch, as if soaking up the comfort it brought. Snape quickly withdrew his hand and pulled out his wand, dimming the lights with it in an attempt to give him something to do besides ponder Harry’s reaction. 

Snape cleared his throat. “Good night, Potter.” He said quietly before turning away and walking towards the door.

“Good night, Snape,” Harry replied, trying not to think about the fact that Snape was still using his last name even after everything that had happened in the last few days. Harry watched as Snape left the room and then closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would come quickly tonight. 

“Malfoy, hurry up in there!” Harry banged on the bathroom door the next morning. “You’re not the only one who needs to go!”

“Shove off, Potter!” Draco yelled back. Harry narrowed his eyes and glared at the closed door.  

“You’ve been in there for an hour! Go primp somewhere else!” When Draco still made no move to leave the bathroom, Harry groaned and stalked out of his room. 

Harry walked down the hallway to Snape’s bedroom door and knocked twice. 

“Come in.” He heard Snape call from inside before he pushed the door open. He didn’t spare the bedroom even a glance as he looked for Snape, who happened to be standing in front of the mirror of his own bathroom, shaving. He wore black trousers and a white undershirt with a towel draped over his shoulder. The domesticity of the scene brought Harry up short but he quickly shook his head when he noticed Snape looking at him questioningly. 

“Malfoy’s hogging the bathroom.” He complained, moving further into the room and leaning against the bathroom door jamb. 

“So go use the one downstairs,” Snape replied, turning back to the mirror. 

“Snape.” 

“What?” Snape asked, getting agitated as he once more turned to stare at the teenager who was invading his personal space. Harry was looking up at him with what could only be described as a pout and Snape rolled his eyes upwards.

“Oh for the love of-” 

Harry cut him off as he walked around him and actually pushed at his side, forcing him from the bathroom. “Potter! What do you think you’re doing?!” 

“I’m sorry, Snape, but I’ve really got to go.” And with that, he closed the bathroom door, leaving Snape outside. 

“Potter!”

“Use the one downstairs!” Harry called out through the door. 

When Harry had finished his business and washed his hands, he opened the door to see Snape still standing there with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. 

“If you’re quite finished.” He growled, but Harry thought that there didn’t seem to be much sternness in his words. Harry moved out of the way all the same. 

Snape resumed his shaving, applying more creme to his face as Harry watched. 

“Do you have nothing better to do, Potter?” 

Harry shrugged. “Not until Malfoy gives up our bathroom so I can get ready.” Snape hummed in response as he slid the razor across his jaw. “Will you teach me how to shave?” Harry asked.

“Not until you’re old enough to start shaving,” Snape replied without hesitation.

Harry rolled his eyes. “I know that. I just mean one day.” 

Snape sighed as he finished up and rinsed out his razor before applying aftershave. “One day, when you’re old enough and you have an actual reason to, I will teach you to shave.” Harry gave a small smile and Snape continued. “But today is not that day. Now, get out of here so that I can finish getting ready without an audience.” 

Harry’s grin widened and he turned from the room. “Alright, alright. I’m going.” 

Later, Harry would look back and think how this had been the highlight of his day.

At the breakfast table that morning, it was obvious that Draco was in an even worse foul mood than he had been in at supper the night before. Though he was actually eating, he kept shooting Harry dirty looks from across the table. 

“Quit looking at me like that.” Harry finally snapped at him. “What’s your problem?”

“You’re my problem, Potter. You-”

“Boys,” Snape interjected calmly from behind his paper, but Draco paid him no mind.

“You took it didn’t you?!” 

Harry narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t take anything!”

“Yeah, right. It was on the bathroom counter before you went in there and now it’s gone.” 

“What are you even going on about?!” Harry asked, furious about getting blamed for something when he had no idea what it was.

“Don’t play dumb, Potter. I saw you eyeing my house ring yesterday and now it’s missing. Don’t even try to tell me you didn’t take it!” Draco was standing now as he leaned over the table, pointing at Harry in anger. 

“Oh, sod off you bloody death eater in training!” Harry shouted, wasting no time in standing as well, but not before Snape had dropped his paper and held a hand out between them. He was not about to have another fight on his hands.

“That is quite enough!” Snape glared hard at both of them. He turned to Draco, “Draco, I will thank you not to start breakfast by accusing people when you do not have any proof. You very well could have just misplaced your ring.” He turned to Harry who was still seething. “And you, Potter, if I have to tell you even once more to watch your language, I will wash your mouth out with soap. Now, sit down, both of you.” 

Both boys continued to stare at one another for a long moment before they finally sat down, apparently, neither wanting to further anger Snape so early in the morning. 

Snape himself had just picked up his paper however when he saw them reach for the last piece of toast at the same time. Harry got to it first.

“Oy!” Draco exclaimed, “You saw me reaching for that!” 

“Too slow,” Harry said simply as he spread jam on the toast and took a bite.

“You’re going to think too slow when I pound your face into the floor!”

“You wish!”

So intent on their argument, neither Harry nor Draco noticed when Snape stood up and once again tossed his paper down onto the table. 

“This is all your fault!” Draco spat from the opposite corner of the kitchen. 

Harry glared at the intersecting walls and tried to control his temper. Just because they didn’t hear Snape behind him, didn’t mean he wasn’t there. 

“Shut up.” He said, voice only loud enough to carry across to Draco. “We’re not supposed to be talking.” 

“Since when did you turn into such a suck-up, Potter?” 

“Since I’ve been the one living with him for the last month!” Harry groused. “Maybe I’m tired of being in trouble all the time.” 

“If you hadn’t taken my ring, we wouldn’t be in trouble now!” 

Harry’s hands balled into fists and he had turned from his corner before giving it a second thought. Unfortunately, Snape had still been in the room, and the look he gave Harry was more than enough to have him ducking his head and muttering an “I’m sorry,” as he turned back to face the corner.

“I’m curious,” Snape said moving closer behind them, “do either of you want to have your time here restarted?” 

“No, sir,” both boys answered quickly, not turning around but looking as far into their peripheral vision as they could. 

“Then not one more word,” Snape said slowly, stressing every syllable, and Harry and Draco nodded, neither seeming to be willing to test how literal Snape was going to take that one word.

As Harry stared, bored, at his corner of the wall, he decided then and there that when he got his own house, there would be no corners at all. Every single room would be round. Like in the office of the American’s muggle President. An oval office. Yeah, thought Harry, every room could be oval and there’d be no room for corners anywhere. Though knowing Snape, it wouldn’t matter at all. He could just as easily make Harry stand against a round wall because, in the little time that he had lived with the man, he had done this a handful of times now and had come to notice that it wasn’t so much the standing in the corner bit that really bothered Harry. It was all the thinking that came along with it. Every single time he stood here, it never failed that Harry would end up thinking about why exactly he was there and that usually resulted in him feeling like a complete prat for how he had behaved.

He raised his foot to rest on the baseboard and almost immediately heard Snape tell him to stop. He did so with a sigh and a slight glance over at Draco’s corner. At least Draco didn’t seem to be any stranger to the corner either. When Snape had told them to pick a corner and stand there, he went with much less fuss than Harry would have given him credit for. Though he seemed to be just as embarrassed about it as Harry was. 

Several minutes later, Snape’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. 

“Alright,” he said, “come here.” 

Both Harry and Draco turned immediately and moved to stand in front of where Snape stood with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“This is your last warning.” Snape looked down at them. “You will not like the consequences if I catch the two of you fighting or arguing again. Is that understood?” 

“Yes, sir.” They both answered and Snape nodded, though he didn’t believe them one bit. 

“Potter, I believe you have a few chores to do before lunch. You should start in the garden.” 

Harry’s head jerked up in surprise. “What about him? He doesn’t have to do anything?” 

“Not that it is any of your concern,” Snape said, irritation coating his voice, “but I am going to assign Draco a few things to do as well.” 

“What?!” Draco exclaimed, “You’ve never made me do chores before.” 

“A mistake, I assure you,” Snape replied evenly. “I think it best to keep you both busy and separated for a while. I have much to do and I don’t want to have to worry about the two of you all day while I should be concentrating on the extremely difficult potion that I am brewing.” He turned to Harry then. “Start in the garden. I want those weeds gone by lunchtime.” 

Harry nodded once and then turned on his heel to head outside, hearing Snape tell Draco to follow him as he left.

Snape had been right about one thing at least, Harry and Draco hadn’t had time to fight between all the work that they had to do. Harry had weeded the garden, dusted the library and living room, and scrubbed the kitchen floor. Draco had, with no shortage of whining, washed the downstairs windows, polished the banisters, and scrubbed cauldrons out in a tub in the backyard. Normally, Snape would have had him wash them in the lab, but he didn’t want either of them around whatever potion he was brewing. 

Suffice to say, it was two tired teenagers who sat down to dinner that night.

 Unfortunately, they were more than just tired. Their earlier crankiness from that morning seemed to have followed them throughout the day and they spent the meal shooting each other dirty looks, though thankfully staying relatively quiet.

They wouldn’t even talk to Snape, who actually tried to coax conversation out of them. Eventually, even he gave up and suggested that they simply have their tea before going to bed. 

When they got to the living room, Harry quickly took his seat in his armchair next to Snape’s, but before he could pick up his teacup, Draco had snatched it away from him.

“Give it back!” Harry made to grab the cup from Draco’s hand but having expected this, Draco held it up and away from him. 

“Draco-” Snape started when he came into the room and saw the two boys standing toe to toe.

“Come and get it, Potter.” Draco taunted. 

The next few seconds happened both very quickly and yet also in slow motion. 

Harry reached up trying to take the cup from Draco’s raised hand. Draco instinctively held his free hand up, pushing against Harry’s chest and causing him to stumble, however instead of going backward, Harry’s foot slipped on the carpet and he began to fall forward, hitting against Draco’s shoulder as he did so.

Before Snape even had a chance to take out his wand, Harry and Draco both fell into the coffee table, toppling it and the tea tray over in the process. The living room was utterly silent as the two boys each looked around at the mess they had made. Broken glass and wood covered the floor as did tea, sugar, creme, and biscuits. 

“Stand up,” Snape ordered an edge to his voice that Harry hadn’t heard in a while. They did as they were told, each standing slowly to their feet and looking down at the floor. “Are either of you hurt?” He asked. They both shook their heads in the negative. “Then you can consider yourselves very lucky.” 

Snape waved his wand and they watched as the pieces of table and china began to repair themselves. The table once more stood on all four legs and the tea set appeared to be back in its immaculate condition. Even the red-rimmed cup sat unbroken next to the others on the tray. Another wave of his wand and the mess was banished as well. 

Snape nodded once to himself and then walked past them out of the living room. “Follow me,” he called over his shoulder. Harry and Draco wasted no time in doing as they were told. 

They walked silently up the stairs and into Harry’s room before coming to a stop. The boys glanced nervously between themselves as Snape raised his wand once more. 

The next thing Harry knew, his room was rearranging itself. His eyes widened as he watched his big bed transform into two smaller ones and slide to opposite ends of the room. 

“No.” He breathed as Draco’s things began to float into the room, settling on the right side at the end of the bed. 

“You can’t be serious!” Draco said, watching as Harry’s clothes moved to one side of the closet to make room for his own. 

“Snape, if you put us in a room together, only one of us is making it til morning!” Harry snapped.

“Yeah,” Draco agreed, “because I’ll kill him!” 

Snape turned around to face them so quickly that they both took a step back. 

“If you two can not get along separately, we’ll see about forcing you together until you work out some of these differences between you.” He sighed then. “I’ve said from the beginning that I don’t expect you to become best friends, I do however expect you to be civil with each other. If you can’t do it on your own, you’ll stay in here until you can. At least if you’re fighting in here, it won’t be my things getting broken.” He held out his hand. “I want both of your wands. The very last thing I want is to have you hexing each other the moment my back is turned.” 

“But Snape-” Harry whined.

“Uncle Severus, no-”

“Now,” Snape ordered. 

They both reluctantly pulled out their wands and placed them in Snape’s outstretched hand. He turned back around then and moved Harry’s trunk with his own wand. 

What happened then, silenced the room once more. 

A pile of folded clothes had been on top of his trunk and when he moved it, they fell to the floor. A gleaming, silver ring rolled out from under the pile, coming to a stop at Snape’s foot. Draco’s eyes narrowed as Harry’s own widened. 

Snape stooped down to pick up the ring, the Slytherin emblem clear even from across the room. He turned to look at Harry, his dark eyes flashing.

“I-I didn’t…” Harry started, “I don’t know how that got there.” 

Chapter Text

“I knew you took it!” Draco snapped, looking from the ring, over to Harry.

“Quiet, Draco,” Snape said sharply, though he kept his eyes firmly on Harry.

“I didn’t take it.” Harry could feel his hands shaking and he balled them into fists at his sides.

“How did it get in here?” Snape asked, taking a step towards Harry and yet still leaving enough space between them that Harry wouldn’t feel crowded by his presence. “Potter, if you didn’t take it, then how do you explain it being here, hidden under your things?” 

“I-I don’t know, Snape!” Harry wanted, needed, Snape to believe him but he had no idea how the ring could have gotten there. “He probably planted it there!” 

The frown on Snape’s face deepened and Harry immediately recognized it as disappointment. 

“No, I didn’t! Just admit it, Potter, you stole it!” 

“Shut up, Malfoy!” Harry shouted at the other boy. 

“Potter, why would he do that?” 

Harry stared at Snape as if he had just asked the most ridiculous question. 

“To get me in trouble!” Harry stalked across the room and dropped down on the new, smaller bed. “What about Jenka?” He asked suddenly. “She sees everything, right? She would know. Just ask her, Snape.” 

“A house-elf?” Draco spat, “You’re going to take the word of a house-elf?” 

“I’d take hers over yours any day, Malfoy!” Harry glared at him then turned back to Snape. “Please, Snape, just ask her.” 

Snape sighed but gave a short nod. “Jenka?” He called softly. 

The small elf popped into the room but as she twisted the hem of the sheet she wore, glancing between the three wizards with a worried expression, Harry knew that calling her hadn’t been the best idea. 

“Y-yes, Master Snape, sir.” 

“Jenka,” Snape started, and he crouched down so that he was eye level with her, ignoring the way that Draco sneered at him from behind. “Did you see who took Draco’s ring this morning?” 

Tears welled in the elf’s overly large eyes. “No, Master Snape, sir. Jenka did not. Jenka was at Hogwarts this morning and she didn’t return until breakfast. Jenka is sorry, sir!” 

“It’s alright, Jenka!” Harry said suddenly. He couldn’t bear to see the elf so upset and he regretted ever putting her in this position. 

Snape nodded. “Yes, Jenka. It’s quite alright.” 

“I told you-” Draco started but Snape cut him off.

“Go and get ready for bed, Draco.”

“But-” Draco protested immediately.

“Now!” Snape barely turned to look in his direction as he growled the word before turning back to Jenka. 

Draco stomped off in a huff and barely resisted slamming the door behind him. A moment later they heard the water come on.

“Thank you, Jenka. You may go.” Jenka gave one last look at Harry before disappearing. Snape sighed and stood back up, walking over to stand in front of Harry with his arms crossed. Harry didn’t look up but glared down at the floor instead. 

“I want to believe you.” Snape started, his voice quiet. 

“Then do it,” Harry said, anger coating his own voice. 

Snape shook his head. “Are you afraid that you will be in more trouble if you admit to taking it?” Harry rolled his eyes but said nothing. “Because I assure you, Potter, you will not be. If you tell me now that you took that ring, whatever your reasoning for it was, I will have you apologize to Draco and you will spend tomorrow in your room.” Harry grit his teeth and crossed his own arms over his chest, still not even looking up at the man. 

Snape went on. “If you wait, and tell me tomorrow at breakfast, we will let it go with the same punishment. I promise you. If you’re worried about something else happening, you need not be.” 

Harry did look up then and the glare he shot in Snape’s direction was one full of loathing.

“Well if you’ve already decided anyway, what does it matter? I’ll stay in here tomorrow and I’ll be glad to be away from you both!”

“Potter-”

“How stupid of me to believe that you would ever take my word over his! Of course, it would never be one of your precious snakes that would be lying! Just leave me alone, Snape!”

Harry reached up and forcefully pulled the hangings around his bed closed. He hadn’t bothered to actually get ready for bed but he didn’t care. He would wait till Snape left and then toss his shoes out onto the floor. He still wore his jeans and the red shirt from earlier that day and he was still dirty from working outside in the garden, but a shower could wait until the morning because he would absolutely not look at Snape for even one more second tonight. 

Snape briefly considered forcing the boy to talk to him but decided against it. He knew from experience that that would not go well and he certainly didn’t want to make the situation any worse than it already was. As if that could happen. He thought wryly. 

“I’ll send Jenka up with your meals.” He said softly, staring at the curtains and wishing he could see the child behind them. “And I’ll check on you in the morning.” 

“Don’t bother! I don’t want to see you!” 

Snape nodded once but replied, “Just the same, I will check on you then.” 

He didn’t get a response from Harry, though he hadn’t expected one either. With a sigh, Snape turned and walked out of the room, leaving the ring he still had in his hand, on the dresser as he passed. 

Harry lay in the dark room for a long time pretending to be asleep. When Draco came out of the bathroom, he mercifully said nothing to Harry and simply went to sleep in his own bed. Harry had been glad because he was too exhausted to deal with him anyway. He hated how this day had turned out. How awful it had become. He was so angry at Snape, but he was also angry at himself for having allowed himself to even get attached to the man in the first place. He had known from the start that it would be this way. Adults couldn’t be trusted. 

He raised his hand and swiped at the hot tears that were now falling down his face and that only served to make him angrier. How dare he feel such sadness over the likes of Snape! When had he begun to care what that man thought of him? Why did it bother him that he hadn’t believed him? 

Harry stayed like this, his mind circling with thoughts of Snape until finally, he fell into a fitful sleep. Unknowing that in the room down the hall, sleep was alluding Snape as well.

Snape held the glass of Firewhiskey in his hand, though he hadn’t taken a drink from it in over an hour. Instead, he had been staring aimlessly at the wall opposite his desk as if it alone held the answers he was searching for. He thought back to that morning when Harry had come into his room and all but forced him out of his own bathroom. He had stood there, glaring at the closed door, and yet he hadn’t been able to find it in himself to actually be mad at the cheeky brat. 

How had this boy come into his life and turned it upside down so quickly?! 

And then this happened. He didn’t want to see him. He didn’t want to speak to him. But what should he have done? The blasted ring had been found in his things! 

Snape’s grip on the glass tightened and his knuckles turned white. Why had he gone so far as to put them in the same room? If he had just dealt with the fight from downstairs, if he had just sent them to bed early, none of this would have happened. Just because it’s what Albus would have done, didn’t mean it would work for Harry and Draco. He let his head fall back against the chair. What was he doing? 

Abruptly, Snape stood up and placed the glass on the end table before walking out of the room and down the hall. He quietly opened the bedroom door and came inside. 

Draco’s bed was closest to the door and he looked in on him first. The blond boy seemed to be sleeping peacefully, the new haircut he was sporting this year caused his hair to fall into his eyes, and Snape, as he had done with Harry, swept it away. He cared deeply for Draco, and it was true that he often favored the boy. But that was no secret. It also wasn’t a secret that Draco was spoilt and often acted above others. He always wanted things his own way and he usually got it. But to frame someone else just to be spiteful? Could he do that? Snape was ashamed to say that, yes, he supposed he could. But he didn’t want to believe that of the boy. 

Snape huffed quietly to himself. Of course, he didn’t want to believe that. He had known Draco since he was a baby and he often gave the child more credit than he deserved. He just hoped, really hoped with everything in him, that he could somehow stop this boy from following in footsteps that he need not follow. He didn’t want that life for him, but with his role as a spy, and very real lives depending on him doing his job thoroughly, he didn’t know how to stop it. 

Snape adjusted the blankets over Draco’s shoulder with a sigh before turning to the other bed in the room. He reached a hand out and moved the curtains aside. Harry lay on his side as he usually did, but unlike Draco, Harry’s sleep did not seem peaceful at all. The blankets were a tangled mess near the foot of the bed and the shirt he wore had risen halfway up his back. He only had one sock on, the other undoubtedly under the blankets somewhere. His glasses were still on, though they were askew and leaving marks on his forehead. His cheeks bore the unmistakable remnants of tears and Snape’s heart lurched in his chest. The boy had cried himself to sleep. 

Snape tenderly removed the glasses and placed them on the bedside table before pulling out his wand. He muttered a spell under his breath and Harry’s clothes transfigured into pajamas instantly. As he leaned down to untangle the blankets, Harry began to mutter in his sleep and Snape froze, not wanting to cause the child to wake up. 

“Don’ go.” He was saying, though his words were disjointed and smothered by the pillow. “Din’ mean it.” 

Snape sighed and pulled the covers up, tucking them around Harry’s small frame. He relaxed slightly with the warmth and gave a deep sigh, his eyes nearly fluttering open. “Snape.” He continued his voice a low whine. “Din’ mean it, Snape.” 

“Shh.” Snape carded his hand through Harry’s hair. “It’s alright, Potter. Just sleep.”

“No Po-er.” But Harry was already succumbing to sleep fully again, his breathing evening out as Snape stared down at him, his brows knit together as he tried to understand Harry’s muffled words. 

By the time that Harry had woken up the next morning, Draco had already left the room. Harry had pushed back the curtains, squinting as he tried to see without his glasses until he had found them on the table by the bed. He put them on and looked around, immediately noticing that he was now wearing pajamas instead of the stiff clothes he’d gone to sleep in. 

Snape.

Suddenly, the events of the night before came rushing back to him and he groaned. He noticed a tray on his desk and walked over to see what it was. Removing the lid, he found a plate full of bacon, eggs, toast, and jam along with a glass of pumpkin juice. He closed the lid. He didn’t feel like eating. He was still too angry over last night and so instead, he decided to take a shower, hoping that it would help clear his head. 

The shower had helped some, but only in the sense that at least now he was clean and didn’t feel as groggy as before. Harry was still very much angry at Snape. Maybe even more than he was angry at Malfoy because at least with Malfoy he knew not to trust him. He knew where he stood with the other teen. With Snape though, it felt like a punch to his gut when he thought about how stupid he had been to put so much trust and faith in the man. 

Harry continued to ignore the plate of food and simply got back in bed, pulling the covers up over his shoulder as he turned to face the wall. He wanted to be alone. For the first time in weeks, he couldn’t wait for school to start so that he could get away from his new guardian. 

A couple of hours later, Harry heard a knock at the door. He didn’t respond but it wouldn’t have mattered if he had. Snape came in anyway. 

“You didn’t eat your breakfast.” The older man observed. Harry said nothing. “Are you just not hungry?” He asked.

Still nothing. He heard Snape sigh as he walked further into the room. “I’m not going to speak to the back of your head, Potter.” 

“Then don’t speak,” Harry replied, stubbornly glaring at the wall. 

Snape’s eyes narrowed and he tried to remind himself that Harry was just upset and that getting angry at him would do no one any good. He waved his wand and the tray of food vanished before he took another deep breath. “I’ll send your lunch up later.” 

Harry still gave no reply and so Snape left the room once more. 

He went straight back downstairs where he found Draco reading in the library. 

“I have to floo to Hogwarts for a few moments.” He said quickly, unsure if leaving the two boys alone was the best idea but seeing no other choice. “I’ll only be gone for a bit and I don’t expect to come back to any trouble from either of you. Is that understood?” 

Draco nodded, looking up from his book. “Yes, sir.” 

“I mean it, Draco. I’ll be right back.” He stressed the words and then nodded when Draco agreed once more. 

Snape then headed to his office, shut the door, and walked over to the fireplace. He scooped up a handful of floo powder before tossing it into the flames, turning them bright green. He stepped inside and clearly said, “Minerva McGonagall's Office.” 

A moment later, Snape stepped out of the fireplace, startling Minerva in the process. She lifted a hand to her chest as she gasped. “Good heavens, Severus. You couldn’t call ahead?” 

“Sorry.” He murmured as he took a seat opposite the old oak desk that Minerva sat at. “I needed to speak with you and I don’t have a lot of time.” 

Minerva sat down the papers she had been reading over and gave her son her full attention. “What’s happened?” She asked, concerned.

Quickly as he could, though trying very hard not to leave anything out, Snape told her everything that had happened. Starting with when Draco arrived and ending with his most recent, one-sided conversation with Harry. 

“I-I don’t know what to do.” He said when he’d finished. He sat tensed with his elbows resting on either arm of the chair, his hands clasped together in front of him, staring down at the floor. 

Minerva sighed. “Well, it’s obvious, isn’t it? You need to listen to him, Severus.”

He looked up. “Listen to what? He’s not speaking to me.” 

Minerva gave a sad smile as she stood up and walked around the desk. She leaned back against it as she looked down at Snape and crossed her arms over her chest.

Snape felt all of fifteen years old again as she stood above him. As if he were the one in trouble. 

“I don’t mean Harry. Listen to Draco.”

“Why?” Snape asked, genuinely confused by her suggestion. 

“Because when Harry has gotten into trouble with you in the past, how many times as he lied about it?” Snape didn’t answer as she knew he wouldn’t. “You love Draco, of course, you do, but do not allow yourself to be blinded by him so that you can not see what is right in front of you. Go back there, and listen. They are thirteen-year-old boys, they are not as clever as they would have us believe.” 

Snape took a deep breath. “If Draco framed him and I- and I wrongfully punished Potter, how will we come back from that?”

Minerva shook his head. “It will work out. I promise you. Now go on. You’ve left them alone long enough.” 

Snape nodded and quickly stood up, however before he could return to the fireplace, he suddenly found himself enveloped in a tight embrace. 

“It’s going to be alright,” Minerva said before letting him go. She knew that Snape was not comfortable with such outright shows of affection, but sometimes, she just couldn’t help herself. She needed it and he did too, even if he would never admit it. 

“Thank you, Mum,” Snape said quietly before turning away from her. 

When Snape stepped out of the fireplace in his office, he immediately made to leave the room and head back downstairs in search of Draco. However, when he heard voices coming from Harry’s room, he changed directions and went there instead. 

Standing just outside the door, he could hear them both clearly. 

“Where will you go?” Draco was asking, his voice smug. “If they muggles won’t let you come back and Snape kicks you out, who’s going to take you in then?”

“Shut up, Malfoy.” Harry spat back though it sounded to Snape like he was still further away. He must still be on his bed. 

“You know, it was easier than I thought it would be. I honestly didn’t think he would believe it so quickly, but I guess he really was looking for any excuse to get you out. And you won’t even do anything about it, will you? You’re too good for your own sake, Potter.” 

“One more word, Malfoy and I’ll hit you so hard that your grandchildren feel it.”

Snape rolled his eyes at the obvious over-exaggeration but decided that now might be a good time to step in. “Oh, I don’t think that will be necessary.” 

Both boy’s heads snapped to him as he opened the door and came into the room. 

Harry glared but Draco gulped audibly. “Uncle Severus, how-how long have you been back?”

“Long enough,” Snape replied coolly. “I can not believe you, Draco. I didn’t want to believe this of you.” Snape sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t even know what to do about this. Why, Draco?”

Draco was seething. He grit his teeth and stared at a point above Snape’s shoulder and refused to answer. “Why?!” Snape demanded. 

“Because he’s only been with you less than two months and you already care about him more than me!” Once the words were out, Draco didn’t seem to be able to hold them in any longer. “If I can see it, then you’re mental if you think you can hide it from anyone else. They’ll all see through you in a second and then what will you do?! You’ve gone to the wrong side and what’s going to happen when they find out that you care about Harry-bloody-Potter? What will they do to you for this?!” Draco shouted the last words and Harry and Snape both took a step back. 

Snape felt himself soften at the declaration. Of all the reasons that he had considered as explanations for Draco’s actions, this hadn’t even been on the list. “Draco,” He said softly, eyeing Harry in his peripheral vision. “No one is going to find out. I am very good at my job.” 

“So you admit it then?” 

Snape pulled himself up to his full height and took a deep breath. “I have never been on the side of the Dark Lord. I was, and still am, a spy for the light.” 

“Snape.” Harry gasped and Snape turned to look at him but said nothing. 

“They could kill you for this,” Draco said softly. 

“Yes. But that was a risk that I took, Draco, and I do not regret it. But nothing will happen as long as I continue to play my part.” 

Draco dropped down onto his bed and studied his clasped hands. “You want me to keep your secret? His secret?” He asked, motioning towards Harry.

“I would appreciate it. Though I understand that you are a thirteen-year-old boy and I would not have that on your shoulders. So if you feel that you can not, I want you to know that I understand.” 

The room was silent for a long moment as Snape stood in the middle of the room while Harry and Draco remained on opposite sides. Finally, Draco spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I won’t say anything.” He looked up at them both. “I already gave you my word and I’ll keep it.” 

Snape didn’t have the words to express the feeling of pride that welled up inside him but he gave a small smile and nodded once. 

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat then. “Then the only thing left to discuss is what happened here.”

“It’s fine,” Harry spoke up suddenly and both Snape and Draco turned to look at him. 

“What?” Snape asked.

“I said it’s alright. Let’s just forget it.” 

“Why?” Draco demanded. Harry turned to look at him.

“Look, I don’t like you and you don’t like me either. That’s fine. But I reckon we both must like him for some reason.” Harry’s cheeks darkened but he kept going, determinedly not looking up at Snape. “So let’s just forget it and start over or something. You’re only here for four more days, can you handle a truce for that long?”

Draco narrowed his eyes at Harry as if trying to decide if he actually believed him or not. Finally, he nodded. “Fine.” 

“Alright,” Snape said, bringing the attention back to him, “then this is your last warning. No. More. Fighting.”

“Yes, sir.” They both answered.

“Can you be trusted to have your own rooms again?” He asked. 

They nodded once more and immediately Harry’s room began to right itself. When everything was put back together and in its proper place, Snape turned to Draco.

“I still believe you could benefit from a few hours in your room.” 

Draco sighed but didn’t protest. “Yes, sir.” He left through the connecting bathroom leaving Snape alone with Harry. 

“I’m sorry,” Snape said as he moved towards the teenager. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Harry said, sitting against the headboard of the bed. 

“Well, I do.” Snape moved the desk chair over to the bed and sat down. “I was wrong and you have every right to be angry with me.” Harry gave no response and Snape sighed. “Potter-”

“Harry!” Harry glared over at the man, furiously. “My name is Harry, Snape! I’ve been with you for long enough that you say you care about me, long enough that we decided to keep up with the guardianship even during school, long enough that Malfoy knows about it and long enough that if anyone else found out, they could kill you! The least you could do is call me Harry.” 

Snape sat back, stunned. Suddenly, Harry’s murmurings in his sleep made sense. “I...didn’t know you wanted me to.” He said, carefully choosing his words.

“Well, I do.” Harry swallowed hard and looked away. “You did once, and I thought it meant that…”

“It did.” Snape finished, “But I couldn’t tell how you felt about it, so I just-” He cut himself off and sighed. “I’m just as lost here as you are.” 

Harry said nothing but picked at a loose thread on the bedspread. 

“What if we,” Snape said slowly, “started over as well? Figured this all out together? Would that be alright?” 

For a long moment, the room was quiet, until finally, Harry nodded. 

Chapter Text

It was odd, Harry had thought the next morning, as he walked downstairs with Draco by his side. Neither boy had spoken to the other past a curt, “Morning,” when they had met in the hallway. Harry had gotten up first and had been out of the bathroom before Draco had even gotten out of bed. He figured it would just be easier that way and it wasn’t as if he cared much for sleeping in, in any case. 

They entered the breakfast room and took their seats at the table, Snape, of course, was already there, hidden behind this morning's issue of the Prophet. Sirius Black stared at him from the front page and Harry quickly looked away. 

“Morning, Uncle Severus.”

“Morning, Snape.” They both said stiffly as the food appeared on the table. 

“Good morning, Draco. Harry.” 

Harry ducked his head but was unable to keep the small smile from his face at hearing the use of his first name. 

“So what are your plans for today,” Snape asked once they had both filled their plates with food. 

“Flying?” Harry asked immediately and after a moment, Draco nodded his agreement. 

Snape picked up his coffee cup and took a long sip before answering. 

“As long as you stay within the wards. But don’t forget that you have chores to do today as well.” 

Harry groaned. “I know, I know.”

“You didn’t do any at all yesterday,” Snape said, his focus now back on his paper.

“Wasn’t my fault,” Harry grumbled, scowling as he stabbed a piece of sausage with more force than was necessary. Draco looked down at his own plate.

Snape lowered the paper once more and gazed down at the boy.

“I don’t recall saying that it was. In fact, I believe my words were that you could go flying, provided that you stay in the wards and do your chores afterward. However, you can certainly do chores first if you would prefer.” 

Harry shook his head. “Sorry,” he muttered, casting a wary glance at his guardian. Snape simply nodded and disappeared behind the paper. 

Draco and Harry shot each other a look over the table before turning their attention on their food without another word. When they had finished eating, they waited until Snape had excused them and then they were quickly out of their seats and heading for the broom closet in the living room. They were in the air only a few moments later. 

Snape watched the two boys flying from the window in his office and thought that he was glad that they at least had one thing in common. The Cleansweep he had borrowed from the school, however, was no match for Draco’s own broom and Snape had a sudden urge to buy Harry a new broom himself. Harry had talked often over the last few weeks about saving up for his own but Snape knew it would likely take the boy years to earn enough and he would need one for quidditch this year. 

Snape turned away from the window and sat down at his desk as he mulled over his options. He wasn’t about to start showering the boy with presents but a broom was practical. It wasn’t as if he wanted the Gryffindors to win matches, but would it really feel like a win if Harry was using an old, school broom? It wouldn’t have to be the latest and greatest. Certainly not a Firebolt, but perhaps another Nimbus? The 2001 like Draco had? 

Snape was already dipping his quill in the inkwell as he searched for a spare piece of parchment. He would simply write a letter to Quality Quidditch Supplies inquiring about prices and such. Nothing more. Just to see what the options were. 

He finished the letter and sealed it before opening the window of the office and calling to Aegis, his tawny owl. The bird landed softly on the windowsill a moment later and Snape gave him a treat from a bowl that he kept nearby before attaching the letter to his leg. 

“Alright, you, take this to the quidditch store in Diagon Alley.” He said as he stroked the owl’s feathers. “And don’t leave until they give you a reply.” 

The owl hooted softly before turning and taking flight. Snape watched him until he was well out of sight before focusing on the skies in search of the two teenagers. It only took a moment to spot them racing along the edge of the forest that jutted up against the property. They were swerving over and around trees and Snape felt his heart stop for a few seconds when Draco only just nearly missed colliding with an old oak tree. He had pulled the broom up at the last second and soared higher and higher into the sky, Harry, he was pleased to see, was right on his tail despite having the much older broom. 

When Harry and Draco cleared the tops of the trees, they could see miles and miles around them. There wasn’t much at all besides forest and countryside to the right of the Manor, however, on the left, Harry noticed that they weren’t very far from a small village. 

“What’s that?” Harry asked, pointing towards the village. Draco pulled up next to him and followed his line of sight.

“Mageport.” He answered. “It’s a sort of mixture of wizard and muggle village. The muggles don’t know about the wizards though obviously.” 

“Have you ever been?” 

Draco nodded, flying absently around, completely uninterested in seeing the village. “Once. Uncle Severus took me for dinner there a couple of years ago.”

Harry had a hard time picturing Snape in a restaurant but found that he wished they could go all the same.  

“There’s not much to see there,” Draco continued, now hovering near Harry again, “unless you count that that’s where Myron Wagtail lives.”

Harry looked over at him in confusion. “Who?”

Draco turned his broom around and narrowed his eyes at Harry. “Oh, come off it, Potter. Myron Wagtail? The lead singer of the Weird Sisters?” 

“Never heard of her,” Harry admitted, shaking his head.

Draco dropped his shoulders and groaned. “Not her! Blimey, Potter, did those muggles have you living under a rock all these years? The Weird Sisters is a band and they’re all blokes.” He shook his head at Harry and said, “Anyway, apparently, sometimes at night, the band gets together and plays at the park just outside the village. They don’t advertise it of course because otherwise there would be a huge crowd waiting for them but if you go, you might get lucky enough to see them.”

“Have you ever seen them?” Harry asked, now turning his broom around and flying back in the direction of the manor.

“My father took me to a concert last year and we had front row seats. After the show, we went backstage and got to meet them in person.” 

Harry rolled his eyes knowing that Draco couldn’t see from behind him. “Of course you did.” He muttered. But then Harry stopped and turned back to the other boy. “Do you think Snape would take us?”

“Absolutely not,” Snape said, scowling as he marked through a line on the paper he was reading. The three of them were in Snape’s office, the two teenagers having decided to ask Snape if he would indeed take them to the village. He had said no almost immediately.

“But-but why not?” Harry asked, getting up from his chair and moving around the desk to face Snape. 

Snape merely stared up at him as he leaned back in his own chair. “Because I have no interest in going into town simply to see that idiot Wagtail. I saw enough of him at Hogwarts, thank you.” He rolled his eyes and muttered. “The stories I could tell.”

Draco perked up at that from his own chair. “Would you?” 

Harry and Snape both glared at him. “It was just a thought.” He defended. 

“Please, Snape. I’ve never seen a wizard band.”

“And you’re not going to see one tonight, either.”

“But-”

“If you really want to go into the village, then we can have dinner there some night, but it will not be tonight and we are not going for a concert that may not even be happening.”

“We could go alone?” Harry tried. “We’re thirteen, Snape.”

“Harry, I said no.” Snape’s voice grew sterner and Harry knew his luck had run out. It would do him no good to push the man on the issue.

“Fine.” He growled before turning around to walk out of the office. He threw one last glare at Snape before stomping out and down the hall to his own room. 

He shoved open the door before slamming it shut behind him and dropping heavily down onto his bed. In the next instant, the door to his bedroom disappeared. Harry stared at it in open-mouthed horror. 

“Snape!” He called out, “I forgot!”

“Then maybe next time you’ll remember!” Snape called back. 

Harry huffed and lay back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He saw Draco out of the corner of his eyes as he walked past to his own bedroom and then listened as he shut his own door. He rolled his eyes. “Suck up.” He muttered.

That night, after they had already been sent up to bed, Harry sat alone in his room still sulking about not being allowed to go into the village. It wasn’t even as if he were missing anything really. It was just the fact that Snape had shot him down so quickly. He was being completely unreasonable about the entire situation. He had even scolded him during dinner for “having an attitude,” which was something that Harry had fully disagreed with. 

With a sigh, Harry snapped the book he was reading closed and tossed it towards the foot of the bed.

“Don’t let Uncle Severus catch you treating a book like that.” 

Harry looked up to see Draco standing in the doorway of their connecting bathroom, a grin on his face. Instead of being dressed for bed, Draco wore a pair of expensive-looking jeans, a blue collared shirt, and his boots. 

“What’s with you?” Harry asked, glaring at the blond boy. 

“Get up,” Draco said quietly. “We’re going to that concert.” 

“What? How?” But Harry was already swinging his feet over the edge of the bed.

“We’re sneaking out, obviously,” Draco answered in a deadpan voice. “I’ve got a plan.” 

“We’ll get caught.” Harry opened his closet and began to pull out clothes without really giving much thought to what they were. One of the nice pairs of pants and shirts that Snape had gotten him when he had taken him shopping. 

Draco nodded. “I suppose we might, but I doubt it will be while leaving. And if we do happen to get caught on the way back, at least we will have gotten to go. Besides, what’s the worst he can do?”

Harry pulled the clean shirt over his head. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re going home in a few days.” 

“Would you just hurry up?” Then he reached behind him and pulled out their brooms from where they had been tucked behind the bathroom door. He handed Harry the Cleansweep with a wide grin. “I sneaked these up earlier. We can drop out of the window and be gone before he even realizes.” Harry took the broom.

“There is no way that this plan is going to work in our favor.” 

“Scared, Potter?” Draco asked, his eyebrow raised in challenge. 

Harry narrowed his own eyes. “You wish.” 

Snape walked up the stairs, dimming the lights with his wand as he went. It had been a long day and he was ready to get some much needed sleep. When he reached the second-floor landing, he immediately noticed the absence of Harry’s door. He almost regretted acting so hastily, but he had clearly warned the boy when he had first moved in and Snape was nothing if not a man of his word. He did hate that Harry was so upset with him. It wasn’t something he had been prepared for. Not just about the door but about the visit to the town in general. But he decided that he would take him in a few days. Maybe after Draco had gone home, they could spend the day there. 

He walked over to his room to check on him and immediately noticed that the curtains had all been pulled around the bed. He must be really angry with him then. With a sigh, Snape moved the curtain aside to look in on the boy. 

But there was no one to look in on. Harry’s bed was empty.

Snape narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t believe this! After all they had talked about, after he had snuck off to go flying back at Hogwarts, he had still done the exact same thing here! 

Snape stormed out of Harry’s room and went down the hall to Draco’s only to be met with the same sight. Curtains were drawn around an empty bed. 

Furious, Snape apparated on the spot, leaving the house empty.

He appeared in a dark alley in the middle of town a second later. He took a moment to transfigure his dark robes into muggle clothing before he stepped out of the alleyway but then there was nothing stopping him as he marched towards the park. 

Snape had no problems locating it as he could hear the blaring music even from as far away as he had been. Locating the two boys he was after, however, proved to be a much harder feat. 

The park was crowded full of young wizard and muggle teens alike, all dancing and singing along to the music as the band played on the stage above them all. Much more people around for a band that didn’t even advertise that they would be there. Maybe there had been something else, a festival perhaps, that had also been tonight. It could certainly explain the crowd. 

Snape pushed all thoughts from his head as he searched for the boys. He moved in and out of the groups of teenagers, his eyes barely landing on any of their faces for more than a second before moving on to the next. He was just starting to feel the beginnings of panic rise up in his chest when he finally spotted them near the far side of the stage. They were laughing and talking to a small group of boys about their age. 

Snape wasted no time, walking towards the group with his most feared potions professor scowl, firmly in place. He stopped directly behind Harry and Draco and landed a heavy hand on each of their shoulders. Both of them looked up at him immediately, the color draining from their faces. 

“Have a nice time?” He growled lowly. 

Both boys gasped as they turned to face an irate Snape.

“Uncle Severus!” Draco exclaimed, his eyes wide. 

“Let’s go,” Snape ordered, already turning away.

The other boys in the group looked between Harry and Snape before one, a tall, red-haired boy, asked, “Is that your dad?”

“Er, I-“

“Now, Harry!”  Snape called, having realized that Harry hadn’t followed him. 

“Yep,” said the boy, “definitely your dad.”

“I’ve got to go,” Harry murmured before heading off to catch up with Snape and Draco.

Chapter Text

“Inside.” That was the first word spoken by Snape as he opened the front door to the manor and gestured for the boys to walk in ahead of him. 

Harry and Draco exchanged a glance before moving past Snape.
“On the couch.” Snape shut the door behind them and took a breath before he followed the boys into the living room. They had both taken spots on either end of the long sofa and neither was looking up at him. Snape stood on the other side of the coffee table and glared down at them with his arms crossed. 

Suddenly the grandfather clock in the corner struck one. Just one, single, loud bong that seemed to cause the heaviness in the room to settle even further around them. Harry’s eyes closed as he sighed. 

“One in the morning,” Snape said quietly. “Three hours after I sent you both to bed.”

“Uncle Sev-” Whatever excuse Draco had been planning to give was abruptly cut off as Snape’s black eyes snapped to meet his own blue ones. Draco lowered his head once more, unable to keep eye contact with his Godfather any longer.

“Of all the foolish, dunderheaded stunts you two could have pulled, you chose to sneak out in the dead of night for something as absurd as a concert!” His voice began to rise as he went on. “Did it even cross your minds that there is a killer on the loose?! That if he had somehow found out where you are staying, that he could have taken you and you wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it?!” 

“We had our wands.” Harry defended, but even as he said it, he thought it sounded dumb.

If possible, Snape’s eyes narrowed even more. “Ah, yes, because two third years are such a match for a fully grown, highly trained, maniacal, dark wizard!”

Harry and Draco slumped further down into their seats.

“And even if Black wasn’t out there, in what world would it be okay for two, just turned thirteen-year-olds to go traipsing around a village that you know nothing about when no one knows where in the bloody hell you are?!” Snape was yelling by the end of his rant and he immediately noticed when Harry visibly flinched at his tone. 

Harry had crossed his arms around his middle and was still staring resolutely down at a spot near his knees. His breathing was shallow, coming out in small puffs instead of in the slow and steady way that he would be if he were feeling relaxed. 

Snape turned away to face the fireplace and then closed his eyes before he took a deep breath of his own. He needed to deal with this calmly. He hadn’t meant to scare the boy. He counted to ten and took another breath. When he turned back around, Draco was looking up at him but Harry was still in the same position, though his arms had loosened and his breathing was a bit more regular. 

Snape took a seat in his chair and sighed. 

“Alright, it’s late and you two should have been in bed hours ago, so I think the best thing to do now, is just to go to bed and we can talk about this in the morning.” 

Both Harry and Draco were looking at him now. “What?” Asked Draco in disbelief.

“You heard me. Go to bed.” 

Draco didn’t need telling twice as he quickly stood from his spot on the couch and left the room without a backward glance. Harry, however, still sat quietly.

“Go on, Harry,” Snape urged, “Get some sleep.”

“You’re-you’re angry.” 

Snape let out a slow breath and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger before saying, “I was, but right now I’m just tired.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry spoke quietly. 

“I know.” Snape nodded, “And I’m sorry that I yelled like that. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” 

Harry’s head snapped up, his eyes and mouth turning into more of a frown. 

“I’m not afraid of you.” He said defensively.

Snape leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Maybe not, but you were scared. And that’s alright. You have every reason to be-”

“I’m not!” Harry hadn’t shouted, but the emphasis he put on those two words alone carried as much weight as if he had yelled them across the room. He looked back down at his hands. “I’m not afraid that you’ll h-hurt me,” Harry said these words so quietly that Snape had to strain just to hear them. “I’m just afraid that you’ll,” He took a deep breath. “That you’ll send me back.”

“What?” Snape asked, floored by the admission, but now that Harry had started talking, he didn’t seem to be able to stop and the next wave of words came out in a rush.

“I mean, I understand if you want me to go. Honest, I do. It’s just that if I have to leave, couldn’t I just go with the Weasleys? Or, or maybe Hermione’s parents? Anywhere. Even if it’s to Neville’s Gran’s house. I won’t argue, I promise, just please, please don’t send me back there.”  

Realization dawned on Snape and he sighed.

“You’re not going to the Weasley’s.” Harry looked up, apprehension clear on his face. “Nor will you be going to the Granger’s or even the Longbottom’s.” 

Harry closed his eyes but nodded sadly.

“You’re not going anywhere, Harry, except to your room, to get a proper night's sleep. Or at least what’s left of it.” Harry’s eyes opened and he stared at the older man. “I don’t know how many times I’m going to have to tell you this, but I suppose I’ll say it as often as I have to. You’re stuck with me. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. It doesn’t matter how much trouble you get into either. It won’t change anything.” 

“But you didn’t want to talk to us tonight.” Harry accused.

“Because I didn’t want the entire conversation to be me yelling at the two of you. I wanted to be calm so that I could be fair and reasonable. It certainly wasn’t because I was thinking of sending you away.”

“I’m sorry.” Harry said again, “I really hadn’t thought about Black or anything like that.”

Snape sighed. “Honestly, that’s somewhat of a relief.” 

Harry tilted his head to the side as he stared at his guardian. “What?”

“I do want you to think of the dangers of sneaking off while Sirius Black is on the loose, but I want that to be enough of a deterrent to keep you from doing it. Frankly, if you had thought about it, and the idea didn’t frighten you enough to stop you, I’d be even more worried. It would be just like you to go off searching for him, and I want your word that that will not happen, Harry.”

“I won’t,” Harry answered quickly as if Snape had just said the most ridiculous thing ever. 

Snape cast him a skeptical look. “I mean it, Harry. You will not go looking for Black or intentionally put yourself in a position where he could find you. None of that reckless, Gryffindor hero business. I’ll not have it. Not when it comes to this.”

Harry nodded solemnly. “I promise.”

Snape continued to stare at him for a moment, but then he also nodded. “Then I think it’s time we both went to bed. We’ve got a long day ahead of us.”

Harry’s shoulders dropped as he stood up. He was not looking forward to that at all. 

  “Not so fast,” Snape called from behind his paper. Harry and Draco froze where they stood near the kitchen doorway. Breakfast that morning had been silent except for three terse “Good morning’s” and the longer the silence stretched out, the more nervous the boys became. They had exchanged a couple of brief looks across the table but Snape hadn’t put down his paper even once. When they had finished eating, they had stood up and decided to try their luck at just leaving the man alone, but that was when he had called out to them. 

The two teenagers turned back but didn’t retake their seats. Snape, instead, stood up. He moved in front of them and crossed his arms over his chest as he stared down at them. 

“Do either of you have anything to say about your actions last night?” He asked, his voice taking on that deliberately slow, quiet tone that Harry immediately associated with his professor. 

“No, sir,” Draco answered. 

Harry shot the other boy a look before rolling his eyes at him. “We’re sorry, Snape.” He said sincerely. “It won’t happen again.” 

“I should hope not.” 

Snape let out a long, slow breath then and said, “I’ve thought long and hard about what to do about this and I keep coming back to the same problem.” He turned to Draco. “I can’t tell your father about what happened here. If I do, he will ask a lot of questions that I can’t give him answers to. And even if I could, the chances of him actually disciplining you in any way that would be good for you are very slim.” Harry thought he saw Draco’s normally cool facade slip for barely a second as he looked up at Snape but he said nothing. “So here is what I have decided. Harry, you are grounded to the house for two weeks, starting tomorrow when Draco goes home. You’ll have extra chores every day and you will not be allowed to go flying at all.”

Harry sighed but nodded. He wanted to argue but he knew it would be pointless. Snape wouldn’t budge once he had made up his mind no matter what Harry said. 

“Draco,” Snape was saying, “today the two of you are going to work together to complete a list of chores that I have made. I have asked Jenka to spend the day at Hogwarts and all of the things that she usually does to keep this place running so smoothly will be done by you both.”

“You want us to do house-elves work?!” Draco demanded to know.

“Yes, I do,” Snape answered simply. “Maybe it’ll help you better appreciate them, Draco.” 

Draco seethed but refrained from saying anything else and Snape went on. 

“Then, when school starts back up again, you are also banned for the first two weeks from flying. If you would like, you can tell the others that repairs are being made to it or something and I will give it back when the two weeks are up.”

“But-” 

“Furthermore, since you can not be grounded as you won’t be here, you will instead have all day Saturday detention with me for the first month of the term.”

“A month?!” Draco was outraged as he pointed at Harry. “But Potter’s only grounded for two weeks!”

Frankly, Harry wasn’t sure himself how that four measly Saturdays could be the same as a full grounding, but the look on Snape’s face kept him from voicing that opinion. 

“Yes, he is. Two entire weeks where he will be stuck inside this house with no one to talk to besides me. I hardly think that four Saturdays, between which you will still be able to see your friends, can be considered unfair. However, if you really think it is, we can always add ten more to it so that you can have a full fourteen?” 

Draco crossed his arms and huffed as he glared down at the ground. 

“I thought not,” Snape said. “Now, if neither of you has any questions, you can start by cleaning up the breakfast dishes. There is a list of chores attached to the refrigerator and I expect everything to be done correctly. If it is not satisfactory, you will have to redo it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” They both mumbled. Then Snape waved his hand and the table cleared itself. 

“You’re doing it wrong,” Harry complained that night after dinner. “You’re not getting them clean.”

“Yes, I am.” Said Draco as he handed Harry another half-washed plate. 

“No, you’re not! You’re not even trying. Look!” He showed him the food that was still stuck to the plate.

“Then you do it if you know so much.” 

“No!” Harry said, aggravated as he shoved the plate back at Draco. “I already washed them after breakfast and lunch because you wouldn’t. It’s your turn.”

“Well, it’s your fault we have to do this anyway.”

“How is it my fault?!” Harry shouted. “It was your idea to sneak out in the first place.”  

“Boys!” They both turned around to see Snape standing in the doorway, his usual scowl in place. “I won’t tell either of you again to stop arguing with each other. You are both at fault and you are both being punished. Do you have the rest of your list completed?”

“Yes, sir,” answered Harry while Draco nodded. 

“Good,” he pointed to the dishes, “when you finish up here, Draco, you need to start packing. I just got word from your father that he is picking you up in the morning instead of tomorrow evening.” 

Draco frowned but nodded again. 

“Alright. Harry, when you finish, you may read or something until bed, but I want you both asleep by ten. No later.” 

“Yes, sir.” They both agreed before turning back to the sink. Snape turned to go but before he walked away he heard Harry say, “Just move over, I’ll do it.”

When the dishes were done, Draco went upstairs to pack while Harry went in search of Snape. He didn’t see him anywhere downstairs so he went to the door of his lab and knocked.

“Snape?” 

“Come in, Harry,” Snape answered from inside. 

Harry opened the door and stepped in, finding Snape leaning over a cauldron stirring it while adding in some sort of powder. 

“What are you working on?” He asked as he took a seat on the stool at the end of the table. 

“This particular potion is a pain reliever,” Snape answered without looking up. “Madam Pomfrey sent over a list of the potions that need to be restocked in the hospital wing several weeks ago but I’ve fallen behind and now I still have quite a few to do.”

“I could help,” Harry said, perking up at the idea of working with Snape. “It’s not like I’ll have much else to do over the next couple of weeks.” 

“I suppose, on a few of the easier ones, perhaps.”

He turned the heat down under the cauldron and moved across the room to take a small vial from the shelf. When he came back, he uncorked the vial and added five drops into the simmering potion, turning it immediately from a light blue to pale yellow.  

“Can I help tonight?” He asked.

Snape shook his head. “Not tonight. But I’ll set up a place for you to work tomorrow if you really want to.” 

“I do.” Harry began to absently pick at the corner of the table with his fingernail where a piece of the wood had splintered, lifting the edge and letting it go so that it made a quiet snapping sound. “I don’t want to spend the next two weeks just reading. It’s boring.” 

“Then perhaps you will think about that the next time you feel inclined to break the rules.” 

Harry made a face at Snape behind his back.  “Two weeks though, Snape?” Harry complained. “By then we’ll only have a couple of days left of summer.” 

“We can always extend it,” Snape replied, though he had no intention of doing so. He pulled a pocket watch from the inside of his robes and intently watched it for a moment before replacing it and picking up the wooden spoon. He began stirring it counterclockwise, his lips moving silently as he counted. Harry waited for him to finish and then said,

“You’d probably extend it into the school year just for good measure.” 

“If you’d like.”

“I wouldn’t,” Harry said hastily. He leaned his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hand as he looked at the man. “What’s going to happen if I get grounded during school?” Snape immediately glared at him.  “I’m not saying that I will!” Harry defended. “Just hypothetically speaking, if I should get into trouble and you ground me, how would that work? How would you know if I was following the rules if I was all the way up in Gryffindor Tower?”  

Snape cast him a sideways look as he dropped another ingredient into the potion, now causing it to begin to bubble. “Obviously, if you were grounded, you would spend that time in our quarters, so I wouldn’t have to worry about you following the rules in the tower in the first place. It would be about the same as when you were grounded there last time, except I imagine that you would hate it even more because your little friends would be closer and you wouldn’t get to spend all your time with them.”

“In our quarters?!” Harry sat up straight, his eyes wide. “How am I supposed to explain that to everyone? What am I supposed to tell Dean and Seamus and Neville if no one is supposed to know about this?”

“So tell them the truth, but I mean it, Harry, I don’t want to be hearing that Harry Potter has a new guardian in the school hallways.” 

“They wouldn’t say anything,” Harry said, insulted on behalf of his friends. “But it would probably scare Neville to death.” 

“The poor thing,” Snape drawled. Then he turned to Harry and said, “It’s up to you whether or not you tell them. If you trust that they can keep the secret, then that’s fine. The teachers will know, Draco, and your dorm mates, Ms. Granger and the Weasley’s, but it really shouldn’t go any further.” 

“What happens if someone else finds out?” Harry asked.

“Then we will deal with it if it happens.”

“How did you keep it from the other students in Slytherin?” 

Snape sighed. “I was very careful. I had an abundance of excuses that I would use so that no one suspected when I had dinner with them or even just when I would spend the night in their quarters. Though that didn’t happen very often to avoid suspicion. Minerva would make it a point to give me detention every week or so, or I would say that I was taking extra lessons.”

“But what if you got into real trouble?” Harry interrupted. 

“I didn’t.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “What about the experimental potion that blew up the house?” 

“Part of the house.” Snape corrected. “And that was one of the very few times I had gotten into really big trouble.” 

“But you got grounded for a month, right? How did that work out? What did you tell your friends?”

Snape took a long moment to stir the potion once more before turning back to Harry. 

“It was different with me, Harry. I only had one friend that I was especially close to and that I trusted enough to tell. It had to remain a secret from everyone else, so when I got into real trouble, and I can admit that it did happen on occasion, the way it was handled had to be different. They couldn’t just pull me to their quarters for a week and be done with it. The Dark Lord was out there, luring people, even students, into following him. There were too many people that couldn’t be trusted. When the potions incident occurred, I was at home for Easter break. And I did get grounded for a month but they had to trust that I would follow it to the letter while in the dorms.” 

“Then why can’t you just trust me?” 

“Because I know that I shouldn’t have been trusted,” Snape said, smirking. “And thinking back on it, that’s probably why they made me clean everything up without magic on the weekends.” 

“Okay,” said Harry, “but how did no one notice that you were gone every weekend?”

“Because we made use of the fact that nobody knew that I had been taken from my father. They made it seem like that he had sent a letter to the school explaining what happened and that I wasn’t allowed to stay for the weekends because I had to go home. Nobody questioned it as parents did and still do, have the right to bring their children home whenever they need to. It was fairly common back then because a lot of parents wanted to handle things themselves.” 

“What about when you got in trouble at school?” 

“Do you really have nothing better to do?” Snape asked with a raised eyebrow. Harry grinned. 

“It’s only eight.”  

“I could always find you something.” Harry only stared at him patiently until Snape huffed. “Most of the time if I got into trouble at school, a teacher handled it with detentions or extra homework and such. I did get a howler once, but dad had disguised his voice so that he wasn’t recognized. That was probably the worst thing he ever came up with to do.”

“What for?” Harry asked excitedly.

“That’s enough questions for tonight,” Snape said, turning back to his potion. 

“Oh, come on, Snape. Just tell me and then I promise to leave you alone.”

“This has gone completely off-topic, Harry. We were talking about your concerns for the school year and I believe I’ve answered them adequately.”

“Please, Snape.” Harry continued, “If not I’ll just have to ask Professor McGonagall.”

Snape narrowed his eyes at the boy. 

“After this, you either sit quietly or go upstairs and find something to do.”

“I promise.” Harry nodded.   

Snape sighed. “In sixth year, Professor Flitwick caught me sneaking back onto the castle grounds really late at night. I had been in Hogsmeade with a couple of the boys in my dorm and as most teenagers are, we thought we wouldn’t get caught. He sent us all to bed and told us that he would be informing our parents, and of course for me, that meant dad. The howler came at breakfast the next morning.” 

“That must have been awful! What did he say?” 

“I believe that was your last question,” Snape answered with an almost gleeful expression. 

“But-”

“Upstairs or sit quietly,” Snape said firmly and Harry huffed and sat back. 

A few minutes later though, he said, “I bet it wasn’t as bad as the one Ron got last year from Mrs. Weasley.” 

“We’ll see how you feel about it when I send you one,” Snape answered as he gave his full attention back to the potion. 

Harry’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t.” Snape didn’t answer. “Would you? Snape?”

Chapter Text

Several days later, Harry found himself in his room, staring at the ceiling. Not because he had been sent there, but only because he had come to really like his room here in the manor. Especially since Snape had given him his door back two days ago. It amazed Harry to think that only a month and a half ago, he was sleeping on his dingy bed in Dudley’s second bedroom. He had nothing of his in that room except for the spellbooks and his quill and ink bottle, and those things had had to be hidden under the loose floorboard underneath his bed. 

Only a month and a half. Six weeks. How had the time passed so quickly? So much had changed in such a short amount of time. Harry no longer had to sneak food while the Dursley’s were sleeping. He could eat all he wanted here, and Snape didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. And he had never once been locked inside his room. At first he had taken to checking the door when he was sent there but it had always been unlocked. And now that he was thinking about it, he had only even been sent to his room a handful of times since he’d been here. Snape much preferred letting him stew in the corner for a bit before lecturing him about whatever he had been sent there for. 

Lectures! Harry thought that those might be the worst part about living with Snape. They were awful! Harry was sure that, were it possible, his ears would fall off if he had to hear one more time about how that Harry shouldn’t leave his laundry on the bathroom floor, or about how important it was for Harry to study and really apply himself this year instead of slacking off like he usually did. Harry really thought that if Snape would ever give her a chance, he would find that he and Hermione actually had quite a bit in common. 

Harry rolled over onto his side, causing his glasses to dig into the side of his face a bit. Snape would tell him to take them off so that he didn’t bend the frames, but Harry didn’t want to be unable to see. Besides, Snape couldn’t dictate every little thing about his life. And he wasn’t here anyway. 

Snape had been downstairs in his lab all morning and today was the first day since he had been grounded that Harry hadn’t been with him. They had worked really hard over the last few days to finish up all the potions that Madam Pomfrey had asked for and Harry had enjoyed the work. That was also something that surprised Harry. He had been grounded and unable to go flying, and yet, he hadn’t felt like he had really been punished at all. He supposed he could argue that aside from flying, he hadn’t really done much outside of the manor anyway, but his grounding had been different at Hogwarts. There the restrictions had been the same, except he had felt more isolated and alone. But that was when he and Snape weren’t getting along.

         Could that be the reason that this time felt different? Snape had spent a lot of time with him over the last few days, and as much as he might try to deny it, he had really liked spending time with the older man. It had felt almost normal to sit with him in the lab and work alongside him as they brewed the potions. They would spend the morning after breakfast there and then take a break for lunch. Sometimes Harry went back to the lab with him, and other times he retreated to his room or the library to read. When Snape was done for the day, they would have dinner and then play chess while they had their evening tea. 

Twice now, Snape and Harry had made lunch or dinner together. Both times though, Snape tried to talk to Harry about his time with the Dursley’s, but Harry always clammed up or tried to change the subject. That was one of the reasons that he wasn’t with him this morning. The last time Snape had brought them up had been last night while making dinner and Harry was afraid that Snape would try to get him to talk about things again today. But Harry didn’t want to relive the worst times of his life! He just wanted to forget about it and move on and he didn’t understand why Snape wouldn’t just drop it! If he wasn’t going to have to go back there, why did Snape keep bringing it up? 

A knock on his door pulled Harry from his thoughts. Snape opened the door and stepped inside. “If you’ll come downstairs, there’s a letter waiting for you.”

“Why didn’t you just bring it up?” Harry asked with a grin.

“Do I look like your owl?” Snape said sternly, causing Harry to grin wider.

“Don’t insult Hedwig, Snape. You’re more like a bat.” 

“Downstairs you cheeky brat or I might accidentally drop Mr. Weasley’s letter into the fireplace.” 

“You wouldn’t,” Harry said with a laugh even as he was getting up.

Snape didn’t answer but instead turned to head back downstairs. Harry called after him.

“Wait, Snape, I’m coming!” In the next instant, Harry had streaked past Snape and was on the stairs.

 “Do not run,” Snape said, but Harry paid him no mind. Snape rolled his eyes and followed the boy into the kitchen where the post was, though at a much slower pace. 

Harry was already opening the letter when Snape got there, absently stroking Hedwig’s snowy feathers as he silently read over his friend's words. When he was finished, he looked up at Snape and held the letter out for him to see.

“They’ve invited me to come and stay with them on the last night before we leave for Hogwarts. Mrs. Weasley says I can get on the train with them and everything.” Snape made no comment as he took his seat at the table and placed his napkin on his lap. “I won’t be grounded anymore by then, so I can go, right?” 

“Harry-” Snape started, but Harry cut him off as he pulled out his own chair and sat down, still clutching the letter tightly.

“Please, Snape. It’s just one night.”

Snape sighed. “Do you mind letting me get a word in edgewise?” 

Harry paused. “Sorry.” 

“I was only going to say that if I let you go, I expect you to be on your best behavior for Molly and Arthur. You do everything they say and be polite and respectful.”

“I’m always polite.” Harry defended. 

“Even so,” Snape continued, “your best behavior, Harry. I don’t want you running off alone or putting yourself in danger. Believe me, I will know.” 

“Okay,” Harry said. “But you don’t need to worry so much. I was with them in Diagon Alley last year and everything was fine.” 

Snape scoffed as he waved his hand, food instantly appearing on the table. “If I was told correctly, you came out at the wrong floo and ended up in Knockturn Alley, which happens to be the very place I found you in at the beginning of this summer as well.” 

Harry blushed. “Well, that won’t happen this time.”

“Harry,” Snape’s voice was still stern, “I mean it. You are to keep yourself safe at all times. Molly and Arthur are both exceptionally trained wizards but I don’t want you making it harder on them. Keep your wand on you always.” 

“I promise, Snape.” Harry thought Snape was being overly dramatic but he didn’t mind as long as he let him go. 

“Alright, then you may write to Mr. Weasley after lunch and inform him that you will arrive on the morning of the thirty-first.” 

Harry beamed. “Thanks, Snape! You won’t regret this.”

“See to it that I do not,” Snape replied evenly, though inwardly, he was also glad that he had made Harry happy. 

  The ground felt cold and hard as Snape grappled for purchase, his fingers scraping against the dirt. His breathing was heavy, his lungs begging for air. The pain, like white-hot daggers piercing his flesh, was receding, but Snape knew it was nothing more than a momentary reprieve. They wouldn’t be showing him any mercy tonight. This would be torture and then they would kill him. 

A painful scream cut through the night air and Snape struggled all the more violently in the dirt. He couldn’t see Harry. They had hit him with a blinding spell in the very beginning but by the sounds of the screaming, he was to his right somewhere. 

“Harry!” Snape yelled, forcing down his own panic. 

“Crucio!” Lucius’ curse hit him full force and Snape writhed in pain unlike any other. It had been years since he’d felt the effects of this curse and it was just as unbearable as ever. His back arched as he tried to hold in his screams.

He needed to stay calm and think dammit! He was no use to Harry like this.

Harry.

Harry needed him. He was facing the same thing and he was just a boy. He needed him. 

The curse lifted and once again, Snape was panting for breath. 

How had they gotten in? How had they gotten past the wards? 

Not strong enough.

Not good enough. 

Someone moved close to him and stooped down near his face. 

“I told you, professor. You’re on the wrong side.”

“Draco.” Snape’s voice was thick as he recognized the boy that he had tried so hard to keep away from this life. The boy who he cared about. “You-”

“Step away, Draco.” Lucius’ cold tone sent a chill down Snape’s back. Draco moved away.

“Did you think,” Lucius began, walking around Snape slowly, his cane thumping dully against the ground, “that you could hide this from us? Did you, for even one second, believe that you could keep up this charade when the Dark Lord returns? Pathetic.” He spat the word and moved slightly away. 

Snape lay still, unsure of what to expect next. Harry’s screams had stopped, but he could hear his heavy breathing and the sound of him moving as he attempted to get up. 

“No, Harry, just lie still.” He silently begged, though he knew even as he said it that the foolish boy wouldn’t just lie there and wait for death. He would meet it head on. And so would Snape. 

He rolled over onto his side and tried to push himself up. 

“Following in daddy’s footsteps, eh, Malfoy?” Harry’s voice was hoarse as he stood up on shaking legs. “You’re such a coward!” 

Snape heard Draco move towards Harry but Lucius called him back. 

“Come now, Draco, it is time that you saw how traitors are dealt with within our ranks.” 

Suddenly, Snape’s vision returned and he took a moment to take in his surroundings. They were in an open field. Twelve figures hiding behind black masks stood all around them, close enough that no one was getting through without a wand. Something Snape didn’t have. Harry stood off to his right, his face a mess of bruises and blood, one arm cradled close to his side. 

“Is this what you wanted, Severus?” Lucius asked though he didn’t take his eyes off of Harry.  “Dumbledore’s golden boy, broken and bloody, begging for his life? Crucio!”

Harry screamed in agony as he dropped down to his knees. His eyes closed tightly as he fought to stay upright.

“Harry!” Snape barely made it a step before he was pulled back by the hands of death eaters. 

Lucius lifted the curse and moved to stand in front of Snape. 

“You care for him?” Snape said nothing. “Good.” 

Lucius turned on the spot. “Avada Kedavra!” 

“No!” Snape screamed as the green light split through the air, hitting its mark with complete precision. Harry crumpled to the ground.

Snape shot up in the bed, his breathing shallow and uneven. He put his hand on his chest and willed his heart rate to slow. He closed his eyes and the images from the nightmare swam in and out of his vision. He opened them and they darted around the dark room searching for something to focus on. He found the clock and listened to the rhythmic ticking of the second hand. 

“One. Two. Three. Four.” Snape swallowed hard, fighting back nausea and the residual panic he felt. He began to count again. “One. Two. Three. Four.” 

He repeated the process several times, reminding himself over and over that it was just a dream. That it wasn’t real. That he had had plenty over the years and he was sure to have plenty more. 

But he had never had one about Harry before. About Lily? Sure. About that night in Godric’s Hollow? Often. About all the foul, awful, revolting things he had seen and done during his time as a spy? He couldn’t count the times. But a nightmare involving Harry Potter? This was a first. 

Snape dragged his hand down his face and across the back of his neck, feeling the cold sweat there before squeezing his neck in hopes of relieving a bit of the tension there. Then he threw off the covers and walked into his bathroom. He leaned over the sink and turned on the tap as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He was more pale than usual, making the dark circles under his eyes stand out. His black hair hung in front of his face and he pushed it out of the way, tucking it behind his ear, before cupping some water in his hands and splashing it onto his face. The coolness of the water felt good to his overheated skin and for a moment, Snape just stood there, breathing quietly. 

After a while, Snape decided to get a drink of water from the kitchen so he left his room and headed downstairs. On the first floor landing though, he noticed a light coming from the living room. Glancing inside, he immediately saw Harry sitting on the couch, staring blankly into the dying flames of the fire. 

“Harry?” Snape said in a low voice so as not to startle the boy too much. 

No such luck though. Harry jumped at the noise as he turned wide eyes to his professor. 

“I’m sorry.” He apologized instantly, and Snape shook his head before coming fully into the room. 

“It’s very late, Harry. What are you doing up?” 

Harry shrugged. “I couldn’t sleep.” 

“You’re going to the Weasley’s in the morning,” Snape said. “Don’t you think you should try?”

Another shrug. Snape sighed as he moved around the couch and took a seat on the other end. Harry glanced up at that, Snape never sat on the couch. He always sat in his armchair across from Harry. 

“What’s the matter?” Snape asked quietly. 

“Nothing,” Harry said a little too quickly. Too defensively. 

Snape raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He just looked at Harry until eventually, Harry looked away. Still, Snape waited. Harry ran a hand through his hair. Snape had cut it for him a few days ago and even Harry had to admit that it was nice to have it off of his neck and out of his eyes for a change. 

“Everything’s going to change when we get back to Hogwarts.” Harry finally admitted.

“Everything has already changed, hasn’t it?” Snape asked, genuinely curious as to what Harry meant.

“Yes, but-” Harry didn’t know how to put into words how he felt, but Snape remained quiet, letting him work it out for himself. After another moment had passed, Harry said, “It’s going to be different because now we have this,” he waved his hand between them, “whatever this is and I didn’t think that I would like it, but I do. And maybe that sounds stupid or something but I’m- I’m glad that I live here now. With you.” 

Harry ducked his head, hoping that Snape couldn’t see how embarrassed he was. 

“I’m glad too,” Snape agreed. He wasn’t looking at Harry but rather staring into the fireplace.

“But we still have to keep it a secret?”

“We do.” Snape nodded. 

Harry bit his bottom lip. “So you still have to be mean to me in front of the others. Even if I tell Ron and Hermione, or Dean, Seamus, and Neville, they won’t see any difference. It’ll be just like it’s always been.”

“For now. Yes.” Snape said the words aloud but they were barely more than a whisper. 

“And you’re still a spy,” Harry said, and though he was only stating a fact, to Snape it felt like an accusation. “So how do I know when you’re acting? How do I know that you haven’t just been acting this entire time?”

Snape’s head shot towards Harry. His eyebrows creased as he stared at him. 

“Is that what this is?” He asked. “Do you really think that?” 

Harry turned his head away and gave a small shrug before pulling his feet up into the couch cushion and wrapping his arms around his knees, letting his chin rest atop them.

Snape sighed. “It’s not easy to trust adults when you haven’t been given much of a reason to do so. Harder still, when the very adults who were meant to protect you, hurt you instead.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered, still not looking up. 

Snape considered his next move for a long moment. He wasn’t sure how he would be received and as Snape was by no means an affectionate person to begin with, he was more than a little out of his depth. Still, he found himself moving his hand slowly towards Harry and letting it come to rest lightly on his shoulder. Harry tensed at the contact, the muscles in his back seemed to tighten, coiling as if he were ready to flee any moment, but he didn’t move away.

“You should never apologize for how you feel, Harry.” Harry let out a slow breath and Snape went on. “I can’t make these last thirteen years better. I can’t change what happened or what it did to you. I can’t go back and change even my own actions, though I wish I could do all of that and more. What I can do, if you’ll let me, is promise that it will be better from here on out. You are safe here.” 

Without realizing it, Harry seemed to lean into Snape’s touch. His shoulders, which had only a moment ago been so taunt, now were relaxing the smallest bit. Snape squeezed gently before continuing. 

“Perhaps we can come up with a signal of sorts, for when we’re in class or around other students, that would allow you to know when I’m only playing the part.”

“What kind of signal?” Harry asked, looking up at the man for the first time in a while.

Snape thought for a moment before answering. “Something simple, that wouldn’t be easily noticed. Maybe a subtle movement of my hands. Or just a tapping of my fingers?” 

“That would work,” Harry agreed, now eager to come up with something. He looked down at his own hands and tried to picture Snape standing in front of the potions classroom. 

“What if you just tapped your finger against something, like this.” He sat up straight and crossed his arms over his chest, letting his right hand rest against his upper left arm, then he tapped his index finger twice against it. 

Snape moved his own hands and brought one up to his chin, lightly tapping his finger in a less exaggerated way than how Harry had shown against his face. 

“Would you be able to notice that in class?” He asked. 

Harry nodded. “I think so.” Then as an afterthought, he added, “What about if you’re actually cross with me?”

“Do you plan on doing something that would make me cross?” 

Harry simply stared up at him with a slight smirk and Snape almost grinned. 

“If you’re ever truly in trouble for something, though I expect you to try and keep that from happening, I can simply tap your desk to get your attention. Would that work?” 

Harry nodded. “But we still need to come up with a better way for me to get to the dungeons without being seen by the Slytherins.” He covered his mouth as a yawn escaped him. 

“Later,” Snape said as he stood up. “Right now I think it’s time we both went to bed.”

Harry stood up and moved towards the door with Snape right behind him. They climbed the stairs and Harry went to his room, but before he went inside, he said, “Night, Snape.”

 “Good night, Harry. Sleep well.” 

Harry skidded to a stop in front of Snape who was standing in the living room the next morning. “Must I tell you again to stop running in the house?” Snape said drily. 

“Sorry.” Harry blushed slightly as he adjusted his backpack over his shoulder. “You’re the one who let me sleep late.” 

“Of course, it is my fault for assuming you had done your packing yesterday when I asked you to. Had you done so, you would have been able to catch up on the sleep you missed from staying up all night and you still would have had time to eat a proper breakfast without being late. Now, however, here we are, late to meet the Weasleys who have kindly invited you to stay with them tonight and you’ve probably forgotten something that you will undoubtedly be asking me to come back for later.”  

“You will come back for it though, won’t you?” Harry asked, unsure.

“Most likely.” Snape nodded as Harry took one last look around. 

“Will we be coming back here?” 

“I suppose we will. Unless you would rather spend the holidays at Hogwarts instead of coming back home?” Snape asked, a slight frown forming on his lips. 

“We could spend Christmas here?” Asked Harry, excitedly. “A-at home?” 

Snape nodded. “That is how one usually refers to the place they live.” Then changing the subject entirely, he pointed to Harry’s backpack. “You have everything you need?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re going to behave, and do whatever Arthur and Molly say, correct?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Snape, we’ve been through this a hundred times. Yes, I’m going to behave. I’ll eat all my vegetables and go to bed at a decent hour and I’ll even look both ways before crossing the street. Can we please just go, now?” 

“I’ll have none of that cheek, young man,” Snape said, though he didn’t seem particularly cross as he picked up the jar of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace. “You have all the allowance you’ve been saving plus a little more, it should be plenty for you to get something should you want, but I don’t want to find out that you’ve bought your weight in candy, understood?” 

“Yes, sir,” agreed Harry, stepping in beside him with a grin, “you won’t find out.” 

“Oh, Harry, dear!” Molly Weasley exclaimed as soon as Harry stepped out of the fireplace and into the lobby of the Leaky Cauldron. She pulled him into a tight embrace and said, “It’s so good to see you!” She stepped back but kept her hands on his shoulders.

Harry smiled widely. “Hello, Mrs. Weasley. It’s good to see you, too.” 

Harry didn’t understand why but Mrs. Weasley’s eyes were shining as she took in the sight of him. “You look so wonderful, dear. When Albus told us what had happened, we were so worried and we wanted to come straight home but he promised us that you were safe and in good hands.” Her eyes flicked over to where Snape stood off to the side. “And it looks like you have been. You certainly look better fed this year. Are you though?” She added in a whisper, bringing her hand up and gently cupping his cheek. He nodded. 

“I’m okay.” He assured her. “Really. I’m good even.” 

Finally, she let him go and nodded. “Alright, well then, Ron and Hermione are both upstairs in room number seven if you want to head on up. You can share a room with Ron.”

“Great,” Harry said but then he turned to Snape. He wasn’t sure what to say, but Snape must have known that because he spoke first. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow evening at the feast.” 

“Right,” Harry said quietly. He couldn’t explain it, but Harry suddenly felt nervous. He had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and he bit his bottom lip as he stared down at the ground. 

Suddenly, he felt Snape’s hand on his shoulder and he looked up, meeting his eyes. 

“Everything’s alright, Harry. Your trunk and all your things will be waiting for you at Hogwarts. Hedwig will be in the owlery.”

Harry nodded. “Alright.” 

“You have your wand with you?” Snape asked and Harry gave another nod before pulling his wand from the holster that Snape had transfigured for him. “Good. If you need me, Mrs. Weasley knows how to reach me. Or if you want, you can take the floo back to Hogwarts early.” 

Harry shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

Snape smirked. “I know.” 

Harry glanced around the lobby and saw only Mrs. Weasley and Tom, the barkeeper, whose back was turned from them. Before he could talk himself out of it, Harry took a step closer to Snape and wrapped his arms around him before letting go. Snape hadn’t even had the chance to hug him back, not that he was sure he would have in any case as he was so stunned by the action. 

“See you tomorrow,” Harry said before swiftly walking away towards the stairs. 

Snape watched as Harry disappeared up the stairs before turning to Mrs. Weasley. 

“Thank you for inviting him.” He said to her politely. She smiled.

“We love having him here, Severus. We love that child and we would have taken him away from there in a heartbeat if we had-” Her eyes glistened again and Snape felt the need to reassure her if only to keep her from crying. Snape did not know how to deal with crying women. 

“He knows.” 

Mrs. Weasley stood up straighter. She still barely reached Snape’s shoulders but the look of absolute authority that she held, caused Snape to want to step back. Something that usually only Minerva could cause. “You had better take good care of him, Severus Snape. If you don’t, you’ll have me to deal with.” 

Snape nodded once. “You have my word.” 

Harry took a deep breath before knocking on the door to number seven and opening it. Ron and Hermione were both sitting inside. Ron at the desk chair and Hermione on the bed with an enormous ginger cat sitting on her lap. 

“Harry!” They both exclaimed when they saw him standing in the doorway. 

He smiled at them. 

Hermione stood up, letting the cat jump down onto the bed where it curled up. She moved over to Harry and wrapped her arms around him. “We thought you were going to be here earlier? You have to tell us everything that’s happened. Did you really blow up your aunt? Who are you staying with now? If it’s who I think it is then-”

Ron stood as well and interrupted her with a laugh. “Give him a minute, ‘Mione. He just got here.” 

Harry grinned and dropped his backpack down on the bed opposite of where Hermione had been before sitting himself. “I overslept.” He said sheepishly and Hermione rolled her eyes. 

“Honestly, Harry, you’ve got to stop staying up all night.”

“Hermione.” Ron groaned and Hermione pursed her lips before pulling the cat back into her lap.

“What is that?” Harry asked, pointing to the cat.

Hermione beamed but Ron rolled his eyes. “This is Crookshanks. Isn’t he just gorgeous?”

“Er, sure.” Harry lied, causing Ron to roar with laughter. 

“Oh, stop it, you two.” Hermione scolded as she pet Crookshanks’s long fur. “Harry, tell us.” 

“Alright,” he said, “but you have to let me finish before you say anything. Got it?”

His two best friends exchanged a look before nodding. Harry took another deep breath as he tried to think of where to start. 

“The night that I accidentally blew up my Aunt Marge, my uncle and aunt were really upset with me and so I ran away. I had already been in trouble last year when Dobby came for using accidental magic and I was afraid that I was going to be expelled or something if they found me this time.” He paused again to collect his thoughts, staring down at the light grey bedspread. “I managed to get a ride on the Knight Bus and they brought me here. But the Ministry noticed some stuff I guess when they came to fix my aunt. Stuff about me and,” he swallowed hard, “and about how my relatives were treating me.”

“Did they find out about the bars on your window?” Ron asked angrily.

“Quiet, Ronald!” Hermione shushed him and turned back to Harry. “Go on, Harry.”

 “I don’t want to talk about all that,” he said with finality. “But I thought I would just stay here until it was time to catch the train back to Hogwarts only Dumbledore didn’t think it was safe. I guess Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban because of me. He was one of Voldemort’s followers,” he said, ignoring the way that Ron flinched at the name, “and they think he’s after me to get revenge or something.” 

Hermione gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand but she didn’t interrupt. 

“So Dumbledore sent someone the next morning to pick me up and I’ve- I’ve been staying with him ever since.” Harry pulled his legs up onto the bed and crossed them, letting his elbows rest on his knees. “I hated it at first. We didn’t get along and I got into a bit of trouble. I wrecked my broom when I had snuck out to go flying and dementors came. I-I passed out.” He admitted, blushing scarlet at the memory. Both Ron and Hermione’s eyes were wide at this but they remained quiet. “Anyway, it got better after that. And it’s loads better now. Mostly.” 

“Well, who is it then?” Ron demanded.

Harry faltered. “Don’t go mental.” 

Ron laughed. “How bad can it be, Harry? It’s not as if it’s Snape or anything.” 

Hermione raised her hand and dropped her forehead into her palm with a sigh. When Harry didn’t say anything, Ron’s eyes grew comically wide. 

“No! What?! You’re joking!” 

“This is you not going mental?” Harry asked. 

“But, Harry,” Ron said, “you can’t live with Snape. He hates you.”

“Not anymore. I’ve been with him nearly two months now.” 

“I think it’s a good idea.” Said Hermione with a smile. “I’m sure you’ll learn loads while living with a teacher, but also,” she paused as if trying to find the right words, “You look a lot better this year than you usually do at the start of term. And I know you haven’t really ever told us the full story about what happens at your relatives, but I’m really glad you’re not there anymore.” 

Harry didn’t say anything, but he was, as always, grateful for Hermione.

“Alright,” Ron agreed, “I’m glad you’re not with them too, but Snape? Dumbledore couldn’t find anyone else?” 

“It’s not like that, Ron.” Harry defended. “Snape’s actually been pretty decent. He bought me a ton of new clothes and all my books for this year. And I have my own room now. A real room with things that belong to me in it. And I eat-”

Harry cut himself off abruptly. He hadn’t meant to say that much. He turned his face away towards the wall to keep from seeing them. They weren’t stupid, they had both suspected something over the last couple of years but had never been able to get him to talk about it. 

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look and Ron sighed. 

“I think,” said Hermione quietly, “that if you’ve got a chance to have a parent, someone who really cares about you, then you should take it.”

“I don’t know if I trust Snape,” Ron said, picking at a loose thread on his shirt. “But I reckon even he would have to be better than the muggles. And I suppose as long as Dumbledore’s around, you’re safe enough.” 

Harry looked up at the two and gave a small smile. “Thanks.” 

Harry spent the rest of the day walking around Diagon Alley with Ron and Hermione, telling them everything that he could about what had happened over the summer. He bought pocketfuls of sweets that he intended to never tell Snape about and he and Ron eyed the Firebolt for so long that Hermione had to pull them away before they were late for dinner. 

That night, Harry had a hard time falling asleep because he couldn’t stop thinking about Snape and what he might be doing without him there. A small, unwelcome voice in the back of Harry’s mind reminded him that he was probably enjoying his night away from him. Harry tossed and turned until sleep finally overtook him in the early morning hours. 

When he woke the next morning, the Weasleys were as always, in a rush to get everyone and everything together and be on their way to King’s Cross Station. Before they left in the Ministry cars that Mr. Weasley had gotten for them to use though, he pulled Harry aside, far enough away from the others that they wouldn’t be overheard. 

“Harry,” he said quietly, “I know that Snape has already warned you to be careful concerning Sirius Black, but I just wanted to add in my concerns as well. I know how you and Ron can be, and I don’t want anything to happen to either of you. Promise me, Harry. Promise me that no matter what you hear, you won’t go looking for Black.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked up at Mr. Weasley. “I’m not going to go looking for a madman, Mr. Weasley.”

“Promise me. No matter what you hear. Sirius Black is deranged, Harry, please, promise me you won’t put yourself into any unnecessary danger this year.”

Harry heard the concern in the man’s voice and found himself nodding his head. “I promise.” 

Mr. Weasley sighed and put an arm around Harry’s shoulders, pulling him in for an unexpected hug. “That’s a good, lad.” He said as he steered them both outside and to the cars. 

At the station, everyone was waiting to go through to the platform. Ron, Hermione, and Harry were standing near the back while they let the others go ahead of them. Harry was filling them both in on what Mr. Weasley had told him about Sirius Black and Hermione looked worried. Her eyes darting around as if expecting the murderer to just jump out at them any second. 

They watched as Mr. and Mrs. Weasley went through the platform with Ginny. Then Percy was followed by the twins. Harry had just taken a step to follow Ron and Hermione when suddenly the sunlight that had only seconds ago been warm against his back, was blocked by a massive shadow. A second later, a heavy hand fell against his shoulder. 

Harry’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes grew wide as he was roughly pulled around to see the large purple face of one Vernon Dursley. Vernon was snarling at him, his beady eyes narrowed into mere slits as his mustache bristled. 

  Ron and Hermione were already walking away, unaware of what was happening behind them. Harry wanted to call out to them but before he could, Vernon spoke with such a snarling voice that Harry’s face drained further of all color. 

“You’ve caused a lot of trouble for me, boy,” Vernon growled low, moving his hand to take hold of Harry’s upper arm in such a tight grip that Harry let out a hiss of pain. He began to struggle immediately to get away but Vernon just gripped him tighter and Harry dropped his backpack.

“I wouldn’t do that. Your little friends' parents are already gone, there’s no one here who can help you. So unless you want something to happen to them, you best just come quietly with me you little freak.” 

“I-I” Harry spluttered but Vernon was already pulling him away towards a dark corner out of sight from the crowds around them. As soon as they were alone, Vernon let loose with one giant fist that connected all too easily with Harry’s stomach, doubling him over in pain. 

“How dare you talk to your kind about us! We put up with a lot from you. We took you in and this is how you repay us?!”

“I’m s-sorry.” Harry was quick to say, even as his vision swam in and out of focus. “I-I didn’t m-mean to.”

Vernon grabbed Harry by the shirt and shoved him against the brick wall, holding him there easily. The impact knocked the breath from Harry’s lungs and he cried out as his head bounced off the wall. 

“We’re being investigated because of you.” Vernon snarled, his face inches away from Harry’s. “They’re accusing us of neglecting Dudley. How dare you bring that on us!”

Vernon raised his fist again and Harry pulled his arms up, trying to protect his face from the blow, but it never came. He opened his eyes to see Ron and Hermione standing on either side of Vernon, their wands pointed up at his face. 

“If you touch him one more time,” said Ron angrily, “I’ll blast you into next year!” 

Vernon’s eyes narrowed but his grip on Harry loosened ever so slightly. “You can’t do magic outside of that freaky school! You’ll be expelled.”

“Worth it,” Hermione said simply, her eyes were dark and her mouth was set in a thin line. Never before had Harry been so glad to see his friends. “Let him go. Now!” 

Vernon let go and Harry fell to the ground. “Don’t you ever come back to my house. You stay away from me and my family!” Vernon spat.

“Gladly,” Harry said, his teeth grit in anger and frustration. 

“Come on, Harry,” Ron said as he passed Harry his backpack that he had found on the ground. “We’ve got to go.” They kept their wands on Vernon as they backed away from him and then turned and sprinted towards the platform. Harry was panting by the time they got there but he didn’t stop until he was through to the other side. 

He was embarrassed that his friends had seen him so weak and he just wanted to get on the train and forget it had ever happened. Without a word to them, jumped aboard hoping that they wouldn’t see how close he was to tears. That would be more embarrassment than he could handle. A few moments later, they joined him and together they searched for a car. The best they could do though was one that held a sleeping man. When Harry looked closer, he realized that it was Professor Lupin. 

Harry listened as Ron and Hermione talked in hushed whispers about who he was, not bothering to tell them that he knew the man. Hermione sat down next to him and tentatively asked, “Are you all right?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He answered, staring resolutely out of the window as the train slowly began to move.

 Hermione and Ron exchanged a look and she said, “Professor Snape will know what to do.”

“Don’t tell him!” Harry quickly said, his own voice barely above a whisper. 

“You can’t keep this from him,” Ron said. “That man hurt you, Harry. That’s what’s been happening to you! Every summer! And you always act like you’re fine. Like the worst they ever did was try and stop you from coming to Hogwarts, well I’m not doing that. I’m not going to pretend like that didn’t just happen. I’m going to Snape as soon as we get off this train and I don’t care how angry it makes you. I’d rather you be angry with me then-” Ron took a deep breath and turned away as well. 

The car grew quiet as they were each lost in their own thoughts. Hermione moved closer to Harry, leaning her head gently on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking on the words. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 24

Snape sat in the parlor of his quarters at Hogwarts, silently drinking a strong cup of tea and enjoying his last few moments of quiet before the students arrived for the start of term feast. 

To be honest, for the first time since he had started teaching, he wasn’t completely dreading the school year. It would be a challenge to keep his guardianship of Harry a secret, but he found that he was more than willing to do whatever it took to ensure that the boy was safe and happy this year. He was even surprised to find that in the short time that Harry had been with the Weasleys, he had missed him. Only the smallest bit though, of that he was sure. It was simply that he had gotten used to having him around and the place had been too quiet without his incessant chattering about all the mundane things that the teenager could come up with to talk about. 

Snape had just drained his tea when there was a sharp knock on his door and before waiting for a call to enter, Minerva came striding inside. Snape didn’t say anything, he simply stared at her calmly, though she seemed to be anything but. 

“Severus, Remus has just sent an owl from the train.” Snape stood up quickly but Minerva held up her hand to stop him from interrupting her. “He said that everyone is fine, but dementors came onto the train.”

“Dementors?” Snape asked, alarmed. “What were they doing on the train?!” 

“I’m not sure. But Harry passed out again.” At this new piece of information, Snape’s eyes widened and Minerva quickly added, “Now Remus assures me that he is fine. They’ll be here in just a few minutes and Poppy is going to check him out the moment he arrives, I just wanted to let you know so that you can come down to my office and see him.”

Snape began walking towards the door. “Let’s go then.” He said as he held the door open for her. 

They arrived in the entrance hall at the same time as the great oak doors opened, allowing the children to pour into the castle. Snape immediately began to search the faces for Harry’s, but it was Minerva who spotted him first.

“Granger. Potter.” She called out to them and waited for the trio to make their way through the crowd to where they stood. “I need a word with both of you in my office, please.” 

Harry cast a quick look up to Snape who only gave the smallest of nods in return. 

“There’s no need to look so nervous,” Minerva assured them, “I just wanted to speak with the two of you for a moment. Go on Weasley, they will join you shortly.” 

Harry and Hermione allowed themselves to be ushered along past Snape, but just as he turned to follow them, Ron spoke up. “Professor Snape?” He said, his voice polite but Snape heard the nervousness in it. Snape turned back to him. 

“Yes, what is it, Weasley?” 

Ron took a deep breath and swallowed hard before he looked around at the other students still standing in the hall. “Something happened to Harry,” Ron said quietly.

“Yes, I heard about the dementors-”

“Not that.” He interrupted. “Before we got on the train before we even got through the platform at King’s Cross.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed. This wasn’t something he had heard about.”

“What happened?” He asked, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at the redheaded boy. “Is Mr. Potter alright?” 

“No,” Ron said, shaking his head. “His uncle was there. He- Did you know that he hits him?” 

Snape felt the color drain from his face. He looked around once more and said, “Follow me,” then abruptly, he turned from Ron and walked to the nearest classroom door. He held it open and Ron walked in ahead of him. 

“Tell me exactly what happened,” Snape demanded as soon as he had shut the door behind them. 

“I’m not sure exactly what happened,” Ron answered. “We were about to go through the platform when Hermione and I realized that he wasn’t behind us anymore. We found his bag on the ground and went looking for him. When we found him, his uncle had him pinned against the wall and was about to hit him. He let him go but I know that he had already been beating him before we even got there.”

Snape ground his teeth together as rage coursed through his body. His shoulders tensed and his own hands tightened into fists at his sides. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “Why didn’t Lupin mention this when he owled to tell us about the dementors?” He asked, his voice steady despite the erratic beating of his heart. 

“He didn’t know,” Ron said simply. “Harry didn’t-” Ron bowed his head and stared down at the floor before he mumbled, “He didn’t want anyone to know. Not even you.”

Snape narrowed his eyes, “He didn’t?”

“No, sir. He barely spoke to me the whole way here because I said I was going to tell you.”

Snape sighed. He understood that feeling all too well.

“Go on to the feast, Mr. Weasley.” He said, moving towards the door. “I’ll take care of it.” Ron nodded and quickly started to move past him but Snape spoke again. “I trust that he told you that this all must be kept secret?” 

Ron looked up. “I’m not going to say anything. He’s my best friend.” His voice was quiet but determined. “I don’t want him to be hurt, and if that means he’s with you, I guess it will just have to be okay. He trusts you.”

“Do you?” Snape wasn’t sure why he asked, but he suddenly realized that he wanted very much to know the answer. However, Ron only shrugged. 

“I trust him.” 

Snape raised a single eyebrow at the boy before he nodded. “Fair enough.” 

When Snape opened the door to Minerva’s office, Harry was just standing up to leave. 

“Sit back down,” he ordered curtly. 

Everyone in the room turned to look at Snape in confusion as he walked to the front of the office and faced Hermione and Harry, who had retaken his seat.
“Professor McGonagall said-” 

“I’m sure that whatever it was, it can wait until you’ve been properly checked out.”

“Checked out?” Madam Pomfrey asked, “I’ve only just finished looking him over and he’s fine. I know that you’re worried, Severus, but Professor Lupin gave him chocolate on the train and he seems fine for someone who has had his second run-in with dementors.” 

“Dementors, yes,” Snape said, “but I’m sure that my young ward didn’t mention the run-in with his oaf of an uncle.” 

“What?!” Minerva exclaimed. “When did you see him?”

Harry paled and he looked away. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him and he hated it. Beside him, he heard Hermione sigh but as she moved to rest her hand on his shoulder, he shrugged it off and stood back up. “I’m fine. It’s not a big deal.” 

But Madam Pomfrey was already pulling out her wand and waving it over him as she ran a diagnostic. 

“Not according to Weasley.” Snape was saying. “He seemed to think it was a very big deal. Apparently, Dursley was waiting for him at the train station.”

“Ron shouldn’t have said anything,” Harry retorted. “I’m fine.” 

Madam Pomfrey stepped back and said, “He has a small bump on his head and a bruise on his arm and one on his side that could use some balm but he’ll be alright.”

“See.” Harry spat, “I told you that I was fine.”

Snape opened his mouth to give his own retort but then thought better of it. Instead, he walked over to the fireplace and took a handful of floo powder. “Let’s go.” He said, motioning Harry over. “We’re going to our quarters to get the bruise balm on you.” 

“No,” Harry snapped, his green eyes flashing, “I want to go to the feast. That’s where everyone else is.” 

“You may go afterward,” Snape agreed but Harry still refused to move from his spot. He crossed his own arms over his chest and stubbornly turned his back to Snape. 

He didn’t understand why he was so intent on not listening to Snape, especially when the man was obviously not in the mood, but all Harry knew was that he was tired and hungry and more than a little embarrassed by everything that had happened today. Between Uncle Vernon, the dementors, his run-in with Malfoy on the train, and now Snape, he really just wanted to eat something and go to bed. 

“I won’t ask again, Harry,” Snape said from behind him. 

Suddenly a hand was on his back and he turned his head slightly to see Professor McGonagall looking down at him kindly. “Go on, Harry.” She urged him in a voice that only Harry could hear. “Everything will be alright. Let Severus get you all fixed up and then come to the feast. You won’t be able to eat until after the sorting anyway and by the time you get back, the food will be on the tables.”

Harry sighed then nodded once before turning back around and moving to stand next to Snape, though he didn’t look up at the man even once. He simply stood in the fireplace and waited for Snape to drop the powder. 

A mere few seconds later, they both stepped out of the fireplace in their parlor and Harry immediately looked around, noticing at once that nothing had changed in his absence. He moved away from Snape and sat down on the couch, dropping his backpack down on the floor beside him. 

Snape walked down the hallway and Harry heard him open the door to his lab. He must have been taking the time to calm himself down as well because it took longer than it should have to find the small jar of bruise balm that Harry knew he kept on the third shelf from the top in the cabinet that stood against the far wall of the lab. Deciding that it would be best just to get this over with so that he could leave, Harry had already pulled off his shirt by the time that Snape came back into the room. 

However, when he saw the bruises on Harry’s upper arm and side, Snape once more felt anything but calm. He came to sit beside him and opened the jar without a word. Dipping his fingers into the salve, he quietly began to apply it to the bruise on his arm. Harry watched in fascination as it began to disappear before his eyes. When he moved to the one on his side, Harry groaned. “I know it hurts, but it’ll only be for a moment more,” Snape told him. 

As that bruise also began to heal, Harry said, “I didn’t do anything wrong. You can’t be mad at me.” 

“I don’t recall saying that I was mad at you or that you had done anything wrong,” Snape replied as he began to apply another layer as the first one hadn’t healed the bruise completely. 

“You’re acting like it.” Harry accused. “It’s not my fault he was there.” 

“No, it wasn’t,” Snape said as he worked the balm in, ignoring the way that Harry hissed at the contact. “However, you could have told me the moment you got here.” 

“You didn’t give me a chance!” 

“Don’t take that tone with me, young man.” Snape replaced the lid and summoned a towel to wipe his hands off with. “And don’t think that I don’t know that you weren’t planning on telling me. I just want to know why.”

“Because it’s not a big deal.” Harry defended once more. 

Snape shook his head. “I happen to think that it’s a very big deal. Do you even understand that what he did was wrong? That he had no right, none at all, to hurt you the way he did?” Harry looked away as he pulled his shirt back over his head but said nothing. “Harry, listen to me, never, under any circumstances, is it okay for him or anyone else to put their hands on you. It is not okay for someone to hurt you.”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Harry said stubbornly. “I want to go eat. Hermione and Ron are waiting for me and I don’t want to miss the feast.” 

Snape gave a long sigh. He knew that Harry had had a rough day and that he was definitely hungry and probably more than a little tired. It would do them no good to get into an argument on his first night back in the castle, especially with everything else that had happened. 

“Alright,” he conceded quietly, “go on to the feast, and then I want you to get some sleep.”

“Fine,” Harry said, quickly standing up and reaching for his backpack. 

“But, Harry,” Snape waited for Harry to turn back to look at him, “this is the last time that I’m going to let you get away without talking about this. I shouldn’t have let it go on this long and I apologize.”

“Snape-” 

“Friday evening you will come down here and we are going to talk. We made a deal, Harry, that if you didn’t talk to me, you would have to talk to someone else, remember?”

“But-” Harry tried again.

“No buts. You will be here Friday night. You have class with me on Thursday and I will make sure to give you detention for something so that if you see anyone on the way, they will not think anything of it. That will have to work until we can come up with a better way for you to come back and forth here.” 

Harry groaned but knew that there was no point in arguing with the man tonight. “Can I go now?” He asked shortly. 

Snape nodded. “I will follow you up shortly.” 

Harry turned once more and walked towards the front door, but just as his hand rested on the knob, he stopped.

“I’m glad that I’m back.” He said quietly. 

“Did you have a good time with the Weasley’s?” Snape asked, moving closer to stand next to him. Harry nodded. 

“Yeah, and Ron and Hermione took the news well. Actually, Hermione already knew.”

“I suspected that she would. I’m glad you had fun.”

Harry’s forehead crinkled and he looked down at the doorknob once more. “It’ll still let me in, right? Even though classes are starting back?” 

Snape thought that he could hear the apprehension in the boy’s voice as if he were expecting him to say “no.” 

“Nothing has changed, Harry. It will always allow you entrance.” 

Harry let out a quiet sigh. “Good.” 

“Now go on and get some food in you. I will see you later. And remember, we’ve got roles to play, unfortunately, so from here on out, at least when others are around, I’m just Professor Snape and you’re Potter.” 

Harry nodded as he gave a small grin before schooling his features and aiming a fake glare at the older man. “Yes, sir. Professor .”

Snape smirked. “Good night, Harry.” 

Chapter Text

The sound of Snape’s fork forcefully stabbing at the carrots on his plate, drew the attention of Minerva as they sat at the Head Table during the feast. 

“By all means,” she started quietly, “continue taking out your anger on your dinner. I’m sure that will be most helpful.” 

Snape didn’t even look up as he spoke, “It helps me to feel better.” 

“Does it?” She asked evenly. 

Snape looked up then, only to see her staring across the hall to where Harry sat with his friends. He seemed happy, talking and laughing between Ron and Hermione as they ate their fill of pumpkin tart. The sight, however, did nothing to quell the burning rage that Snape felt every time he thought of what Vernon Dursley had done to the boy. How dare he come after him! Threaten him!

Snape tossed his napkin onto the table and the remainder of his food disappeared. “I’m finished,” he said curtly. But just as he was about to stand, Dumbledore also stood and addressed the students. 

“That certainly was a fine feast,” he began, his usual twinkle in his eyes as he glanced about the hall, “but now I must insist that now everyone should be off to bed. Classes begin first thing in the morning and wouldn’t it be nice if we were all well-rested and ready to learn all that Hogwarts has to teach us?”

When he had finished his remarks, the students and staff began dispersing, but Snape was surprised to see the trio walking towards the head table. It was Hagrid, who had been sitting on the other side of Snape, that they were coming to see, though and Snape overheard them congratulating him on his recent assignment as Care of Magical Creatures Professor.

 When Hagrid began crying into his napkin, Minerva stood up and told them to go on to bed. 

“Good night, Hagrid,” Harry said. 

“Yes, good night, Hagrid,” Hermione then turned to Minerva and Snape, “Good night, Professor McGonagall, and thank you for earlier. Good night, Professor Snape.” 

Snape raised an eyebrow at her but gave a nod to the three of them. Harry gave a slight nod back in his direction before turning and leading the way back down between the tables and out the tall oak doors. 

“Good kids, those three.” Hagrid was saying. His eyes were still wet as he stared after them. Snape rolled his eyes and left the table. 

Upstairs in Gryffindor Tower, Harry was rummaging through his trunk, tossing things aside in his search. 

“What are you looking for, Harry?” Dean Thomas asked as he finished hanging a poster above his bed. 

“The new defense book that I got from-” Harry cut himself off abruptly. He hadn’t been back at Hogwarts for a whole night and he had already almost spilled the biggest secret of his life. There was just no way that this was going to work. He sat down on the edge of his bed.

“Oi, I need to tell you guys something.” 

The other boys in the room turned to look at him in confusion. Only Ron knew what Harry needed to say, and he wasn’t looking forward to the reactions he would get from them. 

“What is it, Harry?” Neville asked, “Did something happen over the summer?” 

Harry nodded. “Yeah, you could say that.” 

Dean and Seamus both stopped what they were doing to come to stand next to Neville and waited for Harry to go on. 

“Well,” Harry began, “It’s sort of a long story, and I’m not supposed to say much about it. You have to promise to keep it a secret. Nobody can know about this. Well, the teachers do, mostly anyway, and Hermione and the Weasleys, but that’s it.”

“We can keep a secret, Harry,” Seamus said as if he were offended.

“Yeah,” Dean added, “you can trust us.” 

Harry looked over to Ron who nodded as he took a seat on his bed, across from Harry’s, and pulled Scabbers from his pocket where he had been hiding and let him roam around the bed. 

“Alright, well, around the beginning of summer, I ran away from my relatives’ house.” Harry tried to say only enough to get his point across but without saying much about the Dursleys. “They didn’t really want me there anymore. And I guess the Ministry did some sort of investigation and decided that I would be better with someone else. So I got a new guardian the next day, and I’ve actually been living with him ever since.” 

“So what’s the big secret, then?” Seamus asked. “You got a new guardian. Is he better than your relatives?”

“Loads,” Harry answered.

“Well, that’s good then!” Dean added. “Aren’t you happy with him?” 

“I am, but-” He trailed off and Ron shook his head. 

“You’d better just say it, Harry. They’re going to find out anyway.” 

Harry took a deep breath. “It’s Snape.” He mumbled, just barely loud enough for them to hear. 

Neville was the first to react. “Professor Snape?” He squeaked, his eyes widened in shock. 

“As in the bat of the dungeons, Professor Snape?” Dean asked. 

“Rotten luck, mate.” Added Seamus glumly.

“It actually hasn’t been that bad,” Harry tried to assure them just as he had tried to do with Ron and Hermione. But his other three dorm mates weren’t nearly as accepting. 

“It’s probably just an act,” Seamus was saying. “He didn’t look any different to me during the feast.” 

“How would you know?” Dean asked with a laugh, “You didn’t look up from your food even once.” 

“Well, he is different,” Harry spoke up before Seamus had a chance to say something else. “But you won’t really notice it because that’s the secret. No one can know that he’s my new guardian.”

“Why not?” Asked Neville.

“Because it would be dangerous if people found out. What if old followers of Voldemort-” Harry ignored the shivers and gasps at his name, “found out that I was living with him? It would be the same no matter who I stayed with. I’m dangerous to be around.” He finished with a sigh. 

“Well, I’m not going to say anything.” Ron quickly agreed. 

“Thanks, Ron.” 

At that, the others also agreed to keep the secret, though they were less than enthused. They talked for a while longer, asking about each other's summers and such, but ultimately coming back to the subject of Harry and Snape and how he was outside of the castle. Harry told them as much as he could about his time with his new guardian, leaving out the week that Draco had come and anything concerning what had happened with his relatives. He did admit to ruining his broom, and they all wondered how they would fare at the quidditch matches without the use of it. Eventually, though, they all wandered over to their respective beds, and curtains were pulled as the room darkened around them.

It was late that evening after Snape had made his beginning of the year speech to his house and after he had set the new Slytherin prefects the task of helping the first years get settled, that Snape had had the chance to really plot what he wanted to happen to the Dursleys. Specifically to one Vernon Dursley. He hadn’t decided as of yet, but as he picked up a handful of floo powder from the mantle above his fireplace, he was sure that he would come up with something adequate once he got there. He would floo to the Manor and from there he could apparate to Privet Drive. 

It was then that his front door opened and Minerva strode in, her mouth set in a thin line and her eyes flashing behind her spectacles. 

“And just where do you think you’re off to?” She asked as she came fully into the room and stood beside him. 

“You know very well where I’m going. He deserves anything he gets.” Snape stared into the fireplace, the floo powder still clutched tightly in his hand. 

“But would it be worth it to you?” She asked, moving closer to him. “How far are you willing to go?”

“He’s a monster,” Snape growled, watching the flames and feeling the heat against his pale skin. 

“Would you turn into the monster that you’re trying to fight?” She placed her hand on his arm and Snape’s eyes shot down towards her. “What would that teach Harry?” When Snape didn’t answer, she went on. “You are a good man, Severus Snape and underneath that hard shell that you insist on hiding under, you know that what you’re considering would be the end for you and Harry. He wouldn’t want this. He is too kind and too forgiving. And he would know it was you. Even if no one else put the pieces together, he would know. Could you look him in the eyes afterward?” 

Snape sighed and dropped his head. But as Minerva let go of his arm and stepped back, he tossed the powder into the fireplace and stepped inside, clearly stating his destination as he did so. 

“Severus, no!” But it was too late. Snape had gone. 

He stepped out of the fireplace into the living room at the manor and took a look around. It already felt like he had been gone from here for weeks rather than two days. The lanterns lit themselves as he walked past to sit in his armchair. 

He knew that Minerva was right. He couldn’t actually harm the Dursleys, no matter how much he wanted to. It would just prove that he was as bad as he had always believed he was. His death eater days were behind him and he wasn’t going to go back. But still, he wanted them to pay. Maybe a call to the ministry? 

Suddenly, Snape heard something moving upstairs and was immediately on his feet with his wand in his hand. Who could have gotten in? How could someone get in?!

He quickly but quietly climbed the stairs and when he reached the landing, he saw a light on in Harry’s room. The door was ajar and he could hear whoever it was, rummaging around inside. With his wand at the ready, Snape silently pushed the door open further and stepped inside. His eyes narrowed as he took in the intruder.

“Looking for something?” He asked, his voice a low growl. 

Harry jumped at the sound and spun around so fast that he knocked over the lamp on the bedside table. Snape quickly waved his wand before it could hit the floor and suddenly it was back in its place. 

“Snape?!” Harry looked stricken as he backed away from his clearly irate guardian. 

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing here, Harry?” 

“I-I was just-” he stammered as Snape walked closer to him. “I’m sorry. I was just looking for my book. I must have forgotten it, but I can’t find it!” 

“How did you get here?” Snape demanded to know as he motioned for Harry to sit down on the bed. “How did you get out of the castle unnoticed?” 

“I flooed from Gryffindor Tower after everyone else had left the common room,” Harry answered as he sat down. 

“I happen to know that floo powder is not kept in the common rooms, so how did you get any?”

Harry looked down at the blankets on the bed and began to pick at a loose thread.

“I snitched some from here before we left.” 

If possible, Snape’s eyes narrowed further as he frowned. “Why? Did you intend to leave the castle from the beginning? Where did you have in mind to go?” 

“No!” Harry was quick to reassure him. “I just wanted it in case, well, in case something happened I suppose.”

“And what did you think would happen?” Instead of feeling like he was getting to the bottom of things, Snape felt even more confused. 

Harry felt his face heating up and he refused to look at Snape. “I don’t know,” he lied.

“Oh, yes you do know, Harry. What could you possibly be imagining would happen that would leave you no choice but to run away?” 

“I wouldn’t run away.” Harry denied quietly.

“So you would just pop off here for a quick visit then?” Harry still wouldn’t look up and Snape felt like he was quickly losing his patience. “Harry?”

“I just thought that just in case you changed your mind, I wouldn’t be able to stay there anymore. I wouldn’t be able to sit through classes every day knowing that you’re not my guardian anymore.” 

“Harry-”

“I don’t want to go anywhere else, Snape!” Harry said forcefully, finally looking up at him. “I won’t. I’ll leave first and no one will find me.”

Snape raised his eyebrow. “No one will find an underage, runaway wizard who just happens to be Harry Potter? I find that highly unlikely. But it is of no matter because I have no intention of letting someone else take you, as I have said numerous times and will continue to say for as long as it takes for you to believe it. However, you should know that if you ever do decide to run away, especially while there is currently a murderer looking for you, I can assure you that I will, in fact, find you, and when I do, I’ll bring you straight back to the castle where you will be grounded for a month. Have I made myself perfectly clear, Harry James?” 

“But-”

“No buts.” Snape interrupted. 

Harry sighed and nodded, his black hair falling into his face as he did so. “Yes, sir.” 

Snape nodded as well, noting that Harry could use another haircut already. “Now, about tonight.” 

“I just wanted to find my book.” Harry was quick to defend himself. 

“I assume you mean the defense book?”

“Yes, but it’s not here either.”

Snape waved his wand and suddenly the book was in his hand. “That’s because I found it here after you left for the Weasley’s and I brought it back to Hogwarts with me. Had you simply asked, I could have given it to you.”

Harry blushed as he took the book that Snape held out for him. “I’m sorry.” He ran his fingers over the embossed words on the front cover and Snape sighed. 

“I think you deserve detention for sneaking out of the castle. Especially since it’s nearly one in the morning and you have classes in a few hours.” 

“Yes, sir,” Harry said quietly. 

“But I think, just this once, I can settle for giving you a stern warning and walk you all the way back to your dorm, where you will give me whatever floo powder you have left and go straight to bed.” 

Harry glanced up. “Really? But what if someone sees us?” 

“Then you will look like a boy caught out of bed after curfew and I will make a show of giving you the detention that we had planned on for the first potions class.”

Harry sighed. “Right.” 

Snape and Harry made it all the way to Gryffindor tower without seeing anyone else in the halls and true to his word, Harry gave up all the powder that he had left and went straight to bed. The other boys in his dorm were still fast asleep and soon, so was Harry. 

After leaving Harry in Gryffindor Tower with a promise of no more sneaking out, that Snape didn’t believe for a second, he found himself standing outside of his parents’ quarters. He touched his hand to the doorknob and it immediately opened for him. Inside, sitting in a chair as if she were waiting for him, was Minerva with a cup of tea in her hand. 

“Back so soon?” She asked and Snape suddenly remembered a night from many years ago where she had asked him the very same question when he himself had come home after sneaking out. She had been just as calm that night as well. 

Snape sighed. “I didn’t do anything.” 

Minerva nodded and motioned with her free hand for Snape to take the other chair. “I know,” she said with a small smile. Snape took the proffered seat but declined a cup of tea as she held it out for him. 

“Did you check up on me?” He asked, only half-joking. 

“No,” Minerva shook her head, “I just know my son. Like Harry, you’re also much too good.” 

Snape told her about finding Harry at the manor and how he had flooed from the tower. He also told her about the conversation they had had about Harry’s fears of being sent to live with someone else. 

“Have you told Albus to stop looking for another placement for him?”

Snape closed his eyes and sighed. “I haven’t actually. I meant to.”

“I think you should talk to Harry about it, then let Albus know. Maybe another, more permanent guardianship can be put in place that would make Harry feel better.” 

Snape nodded. “I plan to give him detention on Thursday during class so that he can come down Friday night so that we can talk. I’ll bring it up to him then.” 

“Good idea,” Minerva said with a sad smile, “But I do wish that things were different so that all this secrecy wasn’t needed.”

“Me too.” Snape agreed, “But I just don’t see how that could happen anytime soon.” 

“Maybe one day, son. But in the meantime, just focus on the time you have together and make the most of it. That’s all you can do.”

Chapter Text

The next day after the start of term feast seemed to pass quickly for Snape. He had already had his first few classes, most of them with the upperclassmen, and he hadn’t seen Harry at all except during meals. They never spoke, of course, but as Harry entered the Great Hall with his friends that day, he seemed to almost unconsciously scan the teachers’ table where Snape usually sat. When he made eye contact, however, he would drop his head or turn his attention elsewhere. Snape would have found it amusing if he were the sort of person to find humor in things. 

Though he could not deny that he found himself paying closer attention to the boy this year than he had before. He actually noticed the ways in which Harry interacted with the other students and his friends. The way that he always sat on the left side of Gryffindor Table and was usually content to let the others talk amongst themselves, while he stayed mostly quiet. An odd thing considering that he never seemed to be quiet over the summer. He assumed that it was just the first day of classes that had taken its toll on him. 

It was these thoughts and more that had been floating around in Snape’s head the last few hours as he prepared his lesson plans for his third-year classes the coming morning. This would be the class that Harry had with him and he could only hope that their act was good enough to fool everyone into thinking that everything was exactly as it had always been. 

A soft knock on his parlor door drew Snape’s attention, but he only glanced up at it before the door swung open to reveal Albus standing there with a smile on his face. 

“Severus,” he said as he came inside and allowed the door to close behind him, “I’m glad I caught you before you went to bed.” 

“It’s still early,” Snape said with a frown. “I rarely retire before midnight, you know that.” 

“Ah, well, you never did appreciate the importance of a good night's rest.” 

Snape rolled his eyes as Albus claimed the chair opposite him and summoned tea with a wave of his wand. 

“Surely you didn’t come all the way down to the dungeons just to criticize my sleeping habits, Dad.” 

Albus smiled again. “Of course not, my boy. I actually came for two reasons. The first is that I believe I’ve found a way for Harry to come back and forth without being seen by anyone.” 

“Do go on,” Snape said when Albus didn’t immediately elaborate.

The older man pulled a small, golden key from an inside pocket of his robes and passed it to Snape who turned it over in his hand, examining it. “A magical door can be put in place that would appear should he want or need to come here. Much like a portkey, he would only need to hold the key in his hand while thinking of here and the door would be there. After that, Harry would simply open the door and walk through. It connects straight here, just inside the parlor.” 

Snape could have kicked himself. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of this in the first place,” he said as he placed the key on the coffee table. “But what if he loses it or someone else gets ahold of it?” 

Albus shook his head. “Nothing at all. For anyone else, it’s nothing more than an old key that doesn’t fit anything.” 

Snape nodded. “Thank you. This is perfect.” 

Albus waved away his gratitude as he sat back in the chair. “My pleasure. As for your other problem, however, that’s a bit more complicated.” 

Snape sighed as he nodded. “Of course, the Ministry would never let a former Death Eater become a permanent guardian to Harry Potter. The only reason they gave me temporary was because it was considered an emergency and you were searching for someone else.” 

“You were never a Death Eater,” Albus said so sharply that Snape, for once, didn’t argue the fact. 

Snape had long since come to terms with the role that he had played in the first war. Being a spy was something that his parents had been strongly against from the beginning but he had felt like it was his best way to help the side of good. He had ended up making the decision and then following through with it in secret. Not telling them until after the fact. 

Though even knowing that spies are necessary, Snape hated that he had ever been a part of something so horrific. The things he had done, the people he had had to make nice with, and especially the effort that went into keeping up the ruse for so long, all played a part in shaping him into the man he was now. 

Bitter, angry, untrusting, and resentful. Voldemort had taken so much from him, but Snape would be the first to admit that it had all been his own doing. That he had brought it upon himself. If he had just listened and found another way to help. If he had been a little more trusting of the people who knew better than he did. If he had been a little older or a little more this or a little more that, then maybe his life could have been entirely different. But Snape had learned a long time ago that it did him no good to dwell on the past and what he could or should have done differently. Because it didn’t change anything. 

He sighed. “So then what’s the problem?” 

“The Ministry just wants to be sure that if they let you take more permanent custody of Harry, that he is adjusting well and that his emotional and physical wellbeing is taking top priority. They want to do a series of interviews with both you and Harry and they may also talk to his teachers or friends. Maybe even the Weasleys. No one that doesn’t already know about the arrangement will be contacted though.”

“Interviews?” Snape asked as he sat further back in his chair. “A polite way of saying that they’ll interrogate everyone. I’m sure that we can assume that the slightest misstep could mean that they would take him away?”

“It is the Ministry,” Albus said with a frown. “I imagine it will be quite a bit like how they talked to all of us when you were younger. The intentions are good, son. But you don’t have to go along with it. We could simply keep you as a temporary guardian and make it seem like we’re searching for someone else.”

But even as he spoke, Snape was shaking his head. 

“Eventually they would find out, we both know that they will, and then he would be as good as gone. We’ll have to agree to it. I’ll talk to Harry Friday evening when he comes here. When would they send someone for the interviews?”

“I do not know.” Albus answered honestly, “They would be surprise home visits. I believe that they would likely meet you here and then request that Harry be brought somewhere that they could talk privately.” 

Severus nodded. “He won’t like it, but there isn’t any way around it.”

“I’m afraid you’re right. Severus, they will also be looking at Harry’s behavior in your care.”

Snape’s eyebrows creased. “His behavior?”

“Yes,” Albus said, nodding before taking a sip of his tea. “They’ll want to make sure that he’s staying out of trouble but also, how you handle it when he doesn’t. Remember, we went through this same process with you. It is standard especially when the child in question has been abused before.” The older man paused, “They’ll likely ask him about the abuse at some point.” 

Snape sighed. “He won’t like that. He won’t even talk to me about it, though I haven’t given up and I plan to talk to him again about it on Friday. But the point is, if they start battering that child with questions about the Dursleys, he’s going to shut down completely.”

“I know, Severus. And I promise that I’m talking to whomever I have to in order to try and make this go as smoothly as possible, but you may want to warn Harry ahead of time that this topic will most likely come up. At least then he can be somewhat prepared.” 

Snape remembered all too well how those interviews had gone when he had been a teenager. In all honesty, Snape had thought for sure that they were going to take him away after he had lost his temper with one of the caseworkers and stormed off, shoving the man hard in the shoulder as he passed him. He really hoped that it went better for Harry. 

After Dumbledore left, Snape, still thinking about the coming interviews, decided to take a walk up through the castle to get some fresh air. However, just as he was walking out onto the grounds, he spotted the unmistakable shape of Hagrid walking towards the castle with three students. One of which, Snape noticed, Hagrid had by the arm as they led the way. Snape’s eyes narrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest when they got close enough that he could recognize them. The student that Hagrid had by the arm was none other than Harry, and he along with both Ron and Hermione, looked guiltily at their feet when they saw him standing on the front steps. 

“The second time in as many days that you’ve been found outside of where you’re supposed to be, Mr. Potter. Care to explain?” Snape asked drily. 

“We just wanted to check on Hagrid.” Harry quickly said as Hagrid let him go, unintentionally causing him to stumble forward towards Snape, who reached his hand out and steadied him even as he glared down at them all. 

“Thank you for bringing them back, Hagrid,” Snape told the half-giant, “but I can take it from here.”

Hagrid nodded. “They meant well, Professor. Don’t be too hard on them.” Then he looked down at Harry, Ron, and Hermione and said, “But I meant what I said, you lot. Don’ let me catch yeh walkin’ down ter see me after dark again.”

The three of them nodded and said good night before slowly turning back to Snape, whose scowl was now firmly back in place. Ron audibly gulped from beside Harry.

“Ten points from Gryffindor for each of you-”

“But we were just worried about Hagrid!” Harry exclaimed. “It’s not even after curfew.” 

Snape’s steely eyes turned to Harry who glared right back. “I believe I promised you detention if you were caught out again, young man, and I don’t intend to start going back on my word now. Did you perhaps think that you would save us the trouble of acting in class tomorrow?” He said the words quietly so that only the three of them heard, even though there was no one else around and Harry felt his face heat up in embarrassment. He ducked his head and hoped that his friends hadn’t noticed. 

“It was for Hagrid,” Harry said again, though this time it was quiet and with much less enthusiasm. 

“I do not care. Hagrid is an adult and can take care of himself. How do you think he would have felt if something had happened to one of you while you were out visiting him after dark?”

“We hadn’t thought of that, Professor,” Hermione said meekly and Ron nodded.

“Obviously.” Snape answered. 

He sighed then, something he found he was doing more and more often as of late, then addressed Ron and Hermione. “I’ll give you both the same warning that I gave him last night. No more sneaking out. I don’t care if it’s before curfew or not, I want you inside before dark. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.” They both answered without protest.

“As for you,” Snape said to Harry, “you can make your way to my office on Friday night for detention. A real one. I’m sure I’ll have quite a few cauldrons that will need to be cleaned out by then.” As Harry opened his mouth to protest, Snape shook his head. “Don’t even think of arguing with me. Now, upstairs and to your dorms, all three of you. You have my class tomorrow morning and I expect you all to come rested and prepared.” 

Harry turned away without another word and began to climb the steps into the castle. He didn’t even look back to see if Ron and Hermione were following him, though he was sure that they were. No one would ignore Snape when he was already this cross. 

Snape watched him walk away and for a brief moment, he considered calling him back but dismissed the thought almost immediately. Harry needed consistency. He needed to know that Snape kept his word. That he wasn’t like the other adults in his life that just let him do whatever he wanted because of who he was or because they just didn’t want to deal with it. He had promised the boy detention if he was caught out again and that’s just what he got. If Harry was angry with him now, it wouldn’t be the first time and it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. 

Suddenly, the walk that Snape had been looking forward to didn’t seem as appealing. Instead, he thought he’d rather just go back to his quarters for a nightcap before bed. Tomorrow already seemed like it was going to be a long day. 

“Harry,” Ron said the next morning as he pulled the curtains back from Harry’s bed, “if you don’t get up soon we’ll be late. You’ve already missed breakfast and Snape will go mental if you miss class.”

“I’m not going,” Harry replied from beneath the covers. “I’m not feeling well.” 

“You feel fine,” Ron countered. “You’re just hiding.” 

Harry pulled the blankets away from his face and glared at Ron. “No, I’m not.”

Their conversation drew the attention of the other boys and they all came to see what was going on and why Harry was still in his pajamas instead of his school robes.

“What’s wrong with him?” Seamus asked as he leaned against the bedpost near Harry’s feet. 

“We got caught sneaking back into the castle last night by Snape and now Harry’s avoiding him.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” Harry argued, “But you saw how upset he was. I’m just giving him a chance to calm down.” 

“What did he do to you?” Asked Neville, his eyes wide with fear as he also took a seat on Harry’s bed. 

“He only gave him detention.” Ron answered with a roll of his eyes, “And he wasn’t even that upset. We’ve seen him way worse than that. He’s fine now.”

“How do you know?” Harry asked.

“Because my mum yells at me all the time but she always gets over it after a while.”

Beside him, Dean nodded. “Yeah, mate. Parents are just like that.”

“Snape’s not-”

But before Harry could finish his sentence, the dorm room door opened and Hermione stepped inside. “What’s taking so long? We’re going to be late!” 

Harry groaned and dropped back down onto the bed, pulling the blankets up again. 

“Harry’s hiding from Snape. Thinks he’s still mad at us.” 

Hermione pursed her lips and crossed over to join the others at Harry’s bed. “Harry, this is nonsense. Get up this instant.”

“I’m sick.” Harry’s voice was muffled from under the blanket. 

Hermione sighed. “Then I suppose I should let Professor Snape know. He can come up and check on you. Or at least send Madam Pomfrey.” 

Harry pushed the covers back so that he could glare at Hermione, who simply glared back.

“Hermione-”

“Harry, you’re being ridiculous. Didn’t you say that you had snuck out on our first night back?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, I used the fireplace in the common room to floo home for my book.”

“And what did Professor Snape do when he found out?” She asked, crossing her arms and looking impatiently at him.

Harry didn’t know where she was going with this and he was starting to feel claustrophobic with everyone standing so close around him. He shrugged his shoulders.

“I don’t know. He was angry I suppose. He told me off for leaving the castle,” Harry’s cheeks flushed once more at the memory. “He said that if he caught me out again, I’d get detention. Then he gave me my book and brought me back to the tower.” 

Hermione was smiling. Beaming actually. 

“You don’t have to look so happy about it!” Harry exclaimed.

“But, Harry, don’t you see? If Snape had caught you out of the castle last year, he would have taken you straight to Professor Dumbledore and tried to get you expelled. Or at the very least he would have given you enough detentions to last until Christmas. But he didn’t! He talked to you about it and then said what would happen if you did it again. And last night, the only thing that happened was that we lost a few house points and he gave you the detention that he promised you!” 

When Harry still didn’t seem to understand the significance, Hermione threw her hands up in frustration. “Harry, Professor Snape is acting towards you the way that a parent would. Not the way you might be used to,” Harry noticed that she was very careful with her words here and he was grateful, “but the way that you should have been treated all this time. I think that’s really wonderful!” 

“Sure,” Harry said sarcastically, “don’t mind me while I leap for joy.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and the boys started to move away as Ron said, “Well, Snape’s not going to be happy with any of us if we’re late. So let’s go.” 

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” Harry replied sullenly. “But I hope you know that he’s not going to act any differently in class. He can’t. He has to keep up the act.”

“How do you know it’s an act?” Neville asked. 

“We have a signal,” Harry answered as he gathered up his clothes. He waited for Hermione to leave before getting dressed then he showed the others the signal that he and Snape had come up with. 

“See,” Ron said confidently, “it’s all going to be fine. We all know that it’s an act now. Maybe we can even get in on it sometimes, you know. Really rile him up.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Neville said quickly. 

Dean and Seamus laughed but Harry just shook his head at his best friend. 

“I just hope his act isn’t so convincing that I forget.”

Chapter Text

The Gryffindor’s were halfway through double Potions with the Slytherins and Snape had hardly cast a glance in Harry’s direction as he lectured the class before setting them to work on their newest potion. A Shrinking Solution. Harry, at first, felt a bit unnerved at being in the same room with his new guardian while trying to keep up the act that they hated each other. He was sure that he would slip up and say something wrong within the first five minutes, but so far, nothing out of the ordinary had happened. It was just like any other Potions class.

Everyone looked up when Malfoy came through the door, his arm all bandaged and in a sling, acting for all he was worth like he was in terrible pain. As if the whole school didn’t know that Madam Pomfrey could have him patched up in minutes. But of course, no one questioned Malfoy. 

Harry groaned as Malfoy sat down at the table that he had been sharing with Ron and when he complained to Snape about being unable to cut up his daisy roots, leading to Snape telling Ron to cut them up for him, Harry hissed at the other boy, “You’re putting on a good show, Malfoy.” 

Malfoy grinned and turned to Ron who was chopping the roots up in all different sizes in his hurry to be done with them. “Professor, Weasley’s ruining them!” Malfoy called out and Snape quickly came over to their table and looked down at the roots in front of Ron. 

Snape’s hands were clasped in front of him and Harry paid close attention, barely noticing the slight tap of his finger against his other hand. To anyone else, the motion would have been imperceptible. 

“Weasley, trade roots with Malfoy,” Snape sneered down at Ron whose eyes widened in horror.

“But-”

“Now!” Snape cut him off and turned to Harry. “And Potter, skin his shrivelfig.”

Harry glared but said nothing as he took the shrivelfig and skinned it as fast as he could before tossing it back across the table to Malfoy who looked entirely too pleased with himself. 

“That’s it, Potter,” Malfoy said snidely, “be a good boy or else you’ll be in trouble with-”

“Shut it, Malfoy!” Harry hissed back harshly. Evidently, he hadn’t been as quiet as he had thought because, in the next instant, Snape was again beside their table. He was leaning against it as he stared down at them and Harry didn’t miss it as Snape tapped the table to get his attention. Harry, Ron, and Malfoy all looked up to see Snape glaring back at them, then they just as quickly dropped their heads. Harry grit his teeth and focused on the dead caterpillar that he had accidentally beheaded in his anger until Snape moved away once more. 

Harry looked up when another caterpillar landed in front of him to see Malfoy glaring at him now. “We’ve all got roles to play now, Potter,” he whispered quietly enough that Harry knew nobody but he and Ron could hear him. “You need to get better at playing yours.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked, looking between Harry and Malfoy. “What do you know?”

“Everything.” Malfoy answered but before Ron could say anything else, Snape was speaking from where Hermione and Neville sat, a few tables over. 

“Orange, Longbottom?!” Snape ladled a bit of Neville’s potion up with a spoon before letting it splash back into his cauldron. “Did I not clearly say that you only needed one rat spleen? And only a dash of leech juice? Tell me, boy, what must I do to make you understand?”

“Please, Professor Snape,” Hermione said, concern for her friend filling her voice, “I could help Neville fix it.”

“And let the entire class watch you show off?” Snape sneered, crossing his arms and turning fully towards their table so that his back was to Harry. “I don’t think so, Miss Granger.” 

Hermione’s cheeks flushed pink but Snape made no more comment to her. He looked at Neville and said coldly, “At the end of today’s lesson, Longbottom, I am going to feed a few drops of this vile concoction to your toad. I daresay, I am anxious to see what will happen. Maybe the results will be enough incentive for you to start paying attention to what I say so that something might actually penetrate that thick head of yours!”

“Leave them alone!” Harry wasn’t sure when he had stood up or what had possessed him to shout at Snape, but all he knew was that he couldn’t sit here while Snape continued to bully his friends. 

Slowly, Snape turned around and his eyes narrowed as he glared at Harry. 

“Excuse me?” Snape walked over to stand directly in front of Harry while still leaving a bit of room between them. Harry met his gaze with a glare of his own. 

“You’re excused.” Harry spat back, his hands balled into tight fists at his sides. 

All around him, Harry suddenly heard gasps and murmurs of shock and it dawned on him what he had just said. He swallowed hard but continued to hold Snape’s gaze. There was no turning back now anyway.

 Snape raised an eyebrow at him and Harry immediately knew that he wasn’t acting anymore. He glanced quickly around, noting the looks of the others. Most of them looked scared, while some looked to be in awe that Harry would have the guts to speak to a teacher like he just had. Ron met Snape’s gaze, unflinchingly and Harry was once again reminded of just how far his best friend would go for him. On the other side of him, he could see Malfoy shaking his head but Hermione almost looked like she wanted to scold him. Her lips were pursed in an almost perfect imitation of Professor McGonagall and Harry knew he would hear from her later. 

“Mr. Potter has just earned his second detention in as many days,” Snape said in his slow, deliberate voice. “You will remove yourself from my classroom this instant. I want you in my office where you will remain until I am finished here. Is that clear?” 

Harry wanted to argue but instead, he ground out an angry, “Yes, sir,” and quickly shoved past Snape who said nothing else, nor did he watch Harry as he left. He knew he would do as he was told. He looked down at the table where Harry’s things still lay scattered about and with a quick wave of his wand, everything was packed away neatly into his bag, which he left sitting next to Ron knowing that the redhead would make sure Harry got them at his next class. 

Harry left the classroom through the side door that connected to Snape’s office, feeling the eyes of the entire classroom on him as he did so. Once the door was shut behind him, he threw himself down into one of the armchairs in front of Snape’s desk to wait on him. 

Harry felt angry at himself for losing his temper with Snape, but he also felt at least a bit justified in taking up for his friends. A fat lot of good it had done them though. If Hermione couldn’t help Neville with his potion, he was afraid of what would happen to Trevor. 

A small voice in the back of Harry’s head reminded him that not only was Hermione brilliant enough to fix whatever Neville had done but also, Harry knew that Snape had just been acting and surely he wouldn’t actually kill the toad. At least, he hoped Snape wouldn’t. He was nearly positive that it had all been an act on Snape’s part. Well, not that bit at the end. That part, Harry was absolutely positive, hadn’t been for show. He felt his face heat up as he recalled the last few minutes in the classroom. It had been abundantly clear to Harry that he had crossed a line and the looks on his classmates’ faces told him that they knew it too. Even Malfoy’s eyes had widened when Harry had spoken to Snape like that. 

Was that why he still felt so angry? Was he embarrassed about getting into trouble with Snape in class? But that couldn’t be it. It wasn’t as if this was the first time Snape had given him detention or lectured him in class. Why was this time different? 

Before he had time to think on it more, the office door opened and Snape stepped inside. Harry hadn’t realized he had been in there that long but looking past Snape, he could see that the classroom was now empty. 

“Do you have anything at all to say for yourself, young man?” Snape asked as he shut the door and crossed the room, stopping in front of Harry and leaning back against his desk. The scowl was still firmly in place. 

Harry looked away from Snape but didn’t answer. 

“I’m waiting, Harry.” 

“You said we were supposed to be acting.” Harry finally said, his voice rising a bit.

Snape looked down at Harry and crossed his arms over his chest. “And were you acting when you yelled at me in that classroom? Or when you used such cheek when speaking to me? Tell me, Harry, was that part of the act?”

Harry could say yes. He wanted to say yes and that it had all been a part of the plan. That he had only spoken to his guardian that way in order to keep up the charade. But looking up into Snape’s face, Harry knew that he wouldn’t. It would be a lie, and knowing Snape, he already knew that anyway. He sighed before shaking his head. “No.” 

“I didn’t think so,” Snape replied, uncrossing his arms and moving around the desk to sit in his own chair. “So then why did you?” Harry shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the floor. “A shrug is not acceptable, Harry, and you know it,” Snape said firmly. “I want to know what has gotten into you today. And you need to start talking or you’ll be late for your next class.”

“I don’t know!” Harry exclaimed. “You were being awful to Neville and Hermione and it didn’t seem like acting to me, and it just came out!”  

“Do not raise your voice to me, young man.” Harry took a deep breath to calm himself before nodding his head. Then, Snape said, “As for Miss Granger and Longbottom, you will, I’m sure, be happy to know that she helped him to fix that mess of a potion and the toad is completely unharmed.”

Harry’s head snapped up. “Did she get into trouble?”

Snape rolled his eyes. “I took five points.” And when Harry looked as if he would argue, he went on, “You know I had to do something. And so did she. She deliberately disobeyed me, even if she herself did know it was all an act. I assure you, she is no worse for wear.” 

“What’d you mean she knew?” Harry didn’t understand. He had been there the whole time and had seen nothing to suggest otherwise.

“I assume you told your little friends about our signal?” Snape asked, picking up some papers on his desk and straightening them before laying them flat again. When Harry nodded, he went on. “When Miss Granger asked if she could help Longbottom with his potion, I gave the same signal that I use for you and she noticed it right away.” 

“Oh,” Harry said as he looked down at his knees. “Well, how was I supposed to know?”

“You were supposed to trust me.”

“I do,” he said earnestly, bringing his head up to look Snape in the eyes. Snape raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “Am I in trouble then?” Harry asked quietly. 

Snape sighed. “Should you be?” 

Harry groaned. He hated when Snape asked things like that. “I reckon I shouldn’t have shouted at you.” 

“You reckon?” Snape asked, getting up once more and walking around the desk. 

“I shouldn’t have shouted. I’m sorry.” 

Snape nodded. “Alright, we’ll let this go this time because we’re both new at this. I don’t expect you to be perfect, Harry, but I do expect you to behave in my class. In all your classes for that matter and I will not tolerate you being rude or disruptive again. Acting is one thing, but you and I both know it wasn’t even needed today since you already got detention last night. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry replied with a nod of his head. 

“Speaking of, your detention will be tomorrow evening at seven. I expect you in this office directly after dinner. You’ll have some cauldrons to scrub until eight, and then we have much to talk about.” 

Harry visibly deflated at that reminder. “Snape-” He began to whine but Snape held his hand up.

“Don’t bother arguing with me on this, Harry. You gave me your word that we would talk, and that means really talk. Not just you simply defending or explaining everything away.”

“I know, Snape. I’ll be here.” Harry grumbled. “Can I go now? I don’t want to miss Defense.”

“Alright,” Snape replied as he turned back to his desk and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill before writing something down and folding it up. “Give this to Professor Lupin. It will explain why you’re late.” Harry’s eyes grew wide and he felt heat rise in his neck.

“Snape! What did you write?” He asked, taking the paper in his hand and unfolding it.

 Snape snatched it back and pointed at Harry. “The truth. That Mr. Potter was disruptive in class and has earned himself detention and a stern lecture from his professor so please excuse his tardiness.” 

Harry groaned. “Thanks a lot, Snape. He’s going to think I cause trouble all the time.”

“And I’m sure nothing would give him more joy,” Snape replied as he walked over to his office door and held it open.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry asked, but Snape didn’t answer.

“Go on, Mr. Potter before you land yourself into more trouble.” Harry left, grumbling about the injustice of having a teacher for a guardian.

When Harry made it to defense, he was already a few minutes late, but it didn’t seem like the class had started yet. He noticed Ron and Hermione saving him a seat but before he made his way over to them, he walked up to Professor Lupin and held out the note from Snape. 

“Running a bit late, are we, Harry?” 

Harry blushed. “Yes, sir. Sorry.” 

Lupin read the note and grinned before looking back at Harry. “He certainly doesn’t make it easy, does he?” He whispered.

“No, sir,” Harry answered. 

“I’m sure it will get better,” Lupin said before winking at Harry and motioning for him to join his friends.

“What happened?” Ron hissed when Harry sat down between him and Hermione.

“Harry, you really should learn to control your temper better.” Hermione scolded. “It’s different now.”

“I know,” Harry said, offended. “I’m trying.” He took his book bag from Ron and said, “Thanks for bringing this.”

“Sure thing, mate,” Ron said, “Now tell us what happened?”

“Nothing really.” Harry answered, “He just lectured a bit and said I’ve got to be at detention after dinner tomorrow.” 

“That’s it? He didn’t make you drink a nasty potion or anything?”

“Oh, honestly, Ronald.” Harry grinned and shook his head at them. 

After what was probably the greatest defense lesson they had ever had, Harry and the others were heading to lunch, talking excitedly about boggarts and all the different ways their classmates had turned their fears into something laughable. When Malfoy and his gang of Slytherins passed them, Ron suddenly remembered something.

“Oi, Harry,” Harry and Hermione both stopped to look at Ron who said, “Earlier, in Potions, Malfoy said he knew everything. What did he mean? He can’t know, can he?”

Harry looked as if he would rather talk about anything other than Malfoy, but there was no way that Ron and Hermione wouldn’t find out eventually, and it wasn’t as if he really wanted to keep anything from them anyway. He looked around before pulling them into an empty classroom where they sat down in desks facing one another. 

“He does know,” Harry admitted. “He found out over the summer when his dad made him come and stay with Snape.”

Hermione gasped. “Lucius Malfoy knows?!”

“No,” Harry was quick to assure her, “only Malfoy and that’s only because he couldn’t hide me all week long.”

“You had to spend an entire week with Malfoy?” Ron asked, shocked. “Why didn’t you tell us?!”

“I dunno,” Harry answered, “By the time I saw you both, I just didn’t think about it.”

“So how was it?” Ron asked. “How do we know that he hasn’t already told someone?”

“If he had, I’m sure we would already know by now,” said Hermione, though she didn’t look entirely convinced. 

“It was bloody awful at first, but then I think we both got tired of constantly being in trouble so we sort of called a truce for the last few days. He gave his word that he wouldn’t say anything-”

“You can’t take the word of a Malfoy!” Ron spat. 

“Well we haven’t got much choice, do we?” Harry said, “He’s Snape’s godson and I dunno, I think he’ll keep quiet if only for Snape. He knows how dangerous it would be if anyone found out.”

“Or else he’s biding his time before he tells someone.”

“Ron, maybe Harry’s right, if Malfoy was going to say something, he would have done it already.”

“So we’re just supposed to trust Malfoy? With something like this?” When neither Harry nor Hermione said anything, Ron shook his head. “Well, I don’t trust him. And if he so much as acts like he’s going to open his mouth about it, I’ll hex it closed for him.” 

Hermione shook her head and stood up. “Let’s get some lunch. There’s no point worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet. Besides, who knows, maybe something good can even come out of this.”

Harry and Ron exchanged looks behind Hermione’s back but neither commented on her obvious hopefulness. When she was out of earshot, Ron murmured, “Mental, that one.” 

Chapter Text

“There. I’m done.” Harry said as he dropped the brush he had been using to scrub out the cauldrons into the bucket of soapy water and stepped away. He rolled his shoulders to stretch his muscles as Snape came to stand beside him. 

“You’ve missed one,” Snape said, pointing to another potion-stained cauldron next to the pile he already had. 

Harry groaned. “Snape, no. You said I only had to do this till eight. It’s five minutes until now. I’ll never finish another one in time. Can’t I just be done?” 

“Can you stop whining?” Snape asked as he narrowed his eyes at the teenager. 

“I don’t whine,” Harry glared back. Then, as if the thought had just occurred to him, he asked, “What are you going to have Malfoy do if I clean all the cauldrons anyway? He has his first Saturday detention tomorrow, right?” 

Snape turned away from Harry before waving his wand at the cauldrons, causing them to suddenly float into the air and stack themselves neatly along the back wall of the classroom. 

“It is none of your business what Mr. Malfoy’s punishment consists of, just as it’s none of his business when it comes to you.” 

“I hope he has to do something really disgusting like pickle rat brains or disemboweling frogs.” 

Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry and said, “That’s not a very Gryffindor-ish attitude to have. What would your Head of House think?”

Harry laughed. “She’s always on my side.”  Harry moved over to Snape’s desk and sat down behind it in his chair while Snape finished straightening up his classroom. 

He paused for a beat and then added, “Do you still have Thursday breakfasts with her and Dumbledore now that term has started back?”

Snape nodded. “You’re welcome to come if you’d like. Any particular reason you’re asking though? I thought I had already told you that we did.”

“You did,” Harry said as he leaned back in Snape’s chair and balanced his foot against the desk so that it tilted back on two legs. “I just thought I saw Lupin going in there yesterday morning and I wondered if he knew about them too.”

Snape barely glanced up from the papers he had been gathering up from vacated desks as he said, “Professor Lupin, Harry, and yes, he does.” 

“Why?” Harry asked, “I thought only a few people knew.” 

“He just does. Get your feet off my desk.” Harry grinned but dropped the chair back on all fours as Snape said, “I don’t suppose the two of you will be getting along this year, then? You and Mr. Malfoy, I mean.” 

“Ha! Very funny, Snape.” 

When he was done picking up, Snape came to stand beside the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. His usual stern expression now firmly back in place. “Will there be anymore sneaking out of the castle or should I go ahead and give you another detention for good measure?” 

Harry shook his head. “No, sir, it won’t happen again. I promise.” 

“I should hope not,” Snape said before standing up and beckoning Harry to his side. “Now, let’s go to our quarters so we can talk.” 

Harry visibly deflated. “I’m actually sort of tired. Can’t we do it later?”

“Harry,” Snape spoke in a voice that made Harry think that the older man really was tired and so with a sigh, he stood up and walked over to him. Snape nodded and reached into an inside pocket of his robes and pulled out an old key.

“Take this,” he said, holding it out for Harry to take, “and think of our quarters.” 

Harry looked at him skeptically but took the key in his hand. He closed his eyes and pictured their parlor in his mind. Immediately, he felt something like a light breeze and opened his eyes to see a large, oak door standing in front of him. 

“Wicked.” He said quietly. Snape walked over to the door and turned the handle, letting it swing open to reveal their parlor, exactly as if they were standing in front of the main door in the dungeons. 

“Whenever you want to come down, that’s all you need to do. Though I suggest only using it in your dormitory. That way no one else will see.” 

Harry nodded and they walked through the door and into their rooms. Once inside, Snape said, “Now simply put the key away and the door will disappear.” 

Harry dropped the key into the front pocket of his trousers and just as Snape said, the door disappeared. “What if I lose it?” He asked, turning back to Snape who had already taken his seat in his armchair. 

“It won’t work for anyone else, but you could always use a cord to tie it around your neck or something if you’re worried.” 

Harry nodded but didn’t say anything else. 

He took the seat opposite Snape and tea immediately appeared on the table between them. Harry picked up his cup but only held it in his hands instead of drinking any. He could feel Snape’s eyes on him and knew he was waiting on him to start the conversation. 

“I really don’t see why we need to talk about any of this.” He spoke quietly after another moment of silence. “You said I don’t have to go back, so what good is talking about it going to do?” 

Snape took a sip of his own tea as he thought about how best to answer the boy. “Sometimes, just getting it out, letting someone else hear the words, takes a bit of the weight off of your shoulders.” Snape placed his cup back on the table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared down at the floor. “You know, Harry, I don’t expect you to tell me everything that’s ever happened to you. I know that telling me anything at all is going to be extremely difficult and I can’t promise that talking about it is going to make it all better. But what I can tell you, what I know from experience, is that bottling it all up and burying it deep inside, doesn’t do anything to help you. It doesn’t help you to move forward and get past it. If anything, it keeps you in this constant state of anger and bitterness. You grow more and more untrusting of people. You get to a place where you don’t let anyone in because of this fear that they will hurt you too. And it’s not fair. It’s not fair to do that to yourself. Keeping it inside only hurts you but it does nothing to them.” 

There was nothing but the sound of the fire crackling for a long moment before finally, Harry asked, “Did you ever talk to anyone about what your dad did to you?” 

Snape sighed before shaking his head. “No. I just kept it inside out of stubbornness or maybe shame. I didn’t want anyone to know. Not Albus or Minerva or Re-” Snape cut himself off but continued a moment later. “I didn’t want anyone’s pity. And I was so, so angry. It became easier just to pretend that it hadn’t happened than to admit that it was still- does still bother me.” 

“Maybe,” Harry said after a while, “we could just talk to each other? Maybe that would make it easier?” 

Snape sat back as he thought about Harry’s words and just as Harry was sure that he wouldn’t respond at all, Snape said, “I’ll try if you will.” 

Harry nodded once then dropped his head to stare down at the arm of the chair where he began to pick at a loose thread. “W-what do you want to know?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Anything you want to tell me,” Snape replied. “We could start with what we saw that day in the hospital wing? Can you tell me what was happening there?” 

Harry swallowed hard and didn’t look up. He seemed to be concentrating very hard on the piece of thread so that he wouldn’t have to look at his guardian. 

“That was at the beginning of Summer. The day before Aunt Marge came.” Harry took a deep breath but he could feel his heart rate already beginning to quicken at the memory. “Aunt Petunia wanted me to get the house clean and ready for her visit. I had already been working all day and I was supposed to be scrubbing the floor but Dudley, he-” Harry took another steadying breath and ran his hand through his unruly hair, making it stand even more on edge than usual. “He kept tracking in mud on purpose. And he wouldn’t stop so I- I took out my wand and pretended to hex him.” Harry looked up at Snape then as he rushed on. “I know I shouldn’t have. It was a stupid thing to do but he just wouldn’t stop! I was going to be in big trouble for the floor and I just wanted him to leave me alone.”

“It’s alright, Harry,” said Snape, but Harry was shaking his head. 

“No. I’m not supposed to scare Dudley with magic. It makes Uncle Vernon really angry. I should have known better.” 

“What happened then?” Snape asked though he had a sinking feeling that he already knew. 

“Dudley told Uncle Vernon that I had my wand,” Harry answered quietly. “So I ran to my room and hid it underneath the loose floorboard and then I went back to scrubbing the floors. Uncle Vernon came upstairs and started yelling at me. H-he wanted my wand, but I wouldn’t tell him where it was. That’s when he- you know.” 

Snape nodded. He took a few deep breaths of his own as he felt that unmistakable feeling of rage course through him. Memories of his own father rose unbidden in his memory but he forced them away so that he could concentrate on Harry. He cleared his throat and took another sip of his tea as Harry went back to picking at the loose thread. When he thought he could speak without giving away how he felt, Snape asked, “What happened afterward?” 

Harry looked up at him, his brows knit together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the video ended after your uncle stepped on and broke your ankle, but what happened after that?” 

“Nothing happened,” Harry said with a shake of his head. “Uncle Vernon went back downstairs and I finished cleaning the floor.”

Snape grit his teeth. No wonder Harry’s ankle hadn’t set right. He hadn’t been given a chance to rest it at all! He’d been forced to scrub a floor after being beaten bloody and with broken bones! Merlin help him if he ever crossed paths with Ver-

“Snape?” Harry was standing in front of him now. “Snape!” 

Snape blinked and shook his head to clear it. 

“I’m sorry, Snape,” Harry was saying, “I didn’t mean to-”

“No,” Snape said quickly, “you have nothing to be sorry about.” 

Harry nodded and retook his seat. “You don’t have to tell me anything about your dad if you don’t want to. I understand.” 

But Snape shook his head. “We had a deal. Unless you’d rather not hear it.” He added. 

Harry only looked over at him expectantly and so Snape stood up and walked over to the fireplace, leaning his hand on the mantle as he stared down into the flames. 

“My father,” Snape spoke quietly, without looking up at Harry, “Tobias Snape, was a muggle man who I’m sure in the beginning at least, loved my mother very much. And she loved him. She gave up her family for him. Her parents, as I understand it, didn’t approve of their marriage and so they cut her off. She never spoke of them and I never met them. I inherited the manor when they died though. There was no one else to leave it to.” Snape took a moment to collect his thoughts and Harry sat quietly, waiting for him to continue on his own. 

“My father worked in a coal mine and when I was very small, there was an accident and several miners died. A beam fell on my father and permanently injured his back and he was no longer able to work. After that, he began to drink heavily. My mother would take jobs in our town, as a waitress or housekeeper. Whatever she could get. But he forbade her from going into the wizarding world to work and he wouldn’t let her use her magic either. He would become angry at the slightest provocation and he often took his anger out on her, beating her for anything and everything. For not bringing in enough money, for bringing in more than he thought she should have gotten. If she received more than her normal amount of tips, he would accuse her of getting them in some perverse way. If she wore her hair a certain way or if her clothes weren’t up to his standards. It didn’t matter to him.” 

Harry felt sick to his stomach as he listened to Snape’s story. He couldn’t fathom why his dad would hurt his own wife in such a way. How anyone could profess to love someone and still treat them like that was something he just couldn’t understand. 

“She tried to protect me as much as she could,” Snape was saying, “but when she wasn’t around, I was an easy target for his anger. Especially when I started showing signs of magic. As I got a bit older, I would try and stand up for her, but it never ended well. He would just beat us both and then toss me out the back door, locking it behind me. I had a friend that I sometimes stayed with who lived a few streets over but I didn’t like doing that. I was afraid that if he found out, he would keep me from being able to see her at all, and so most of the time, I would camp out in the woods behind our house. When I came to Hogwarts for the first time, it was like I’d been given a brand new life. I worried for my mother of course, but for a little while at least, I could pretend that I was just as normal as my classmates.” 

Snape paused then and Harry turned in his chair to get a better look at him. 

“When did you get adopted by Dumbledore?” He asked. 

Snape looked back at him before he turned fully around and walked back to his seat. He sighed. “My mother became very sick during my third year of school. He wouldn’t allow her to see a healer and so she died only a few weeks into the summer. After that, he was nearly always drunk. He couldn’t work and even though there never seemed to be food in the house, he somehow always had his alcohol. I tried to stay away as often as I could but it never did any good. Eventually, he would find me. He or some of his friends always found me and brought me back. I tried to run away right before school was due to start back. I had planned to get myself to King’s Cross early and just stay there until the train arrived but as always, I had been found and taken back to him.” 

Snape took a deep breath before he continued, “I remember begging his friend, a man named John Neilson, to just say he hadn’t found me. To tell my father that he didn’t know where I was. But he wouldn’t do it. He had suspected about the beatings of course, most people had, but he, like a lot of other people, felt like it wasn’t his business. He believed that a man had a right to raise his children however he saw fit and my father was very good at convincing people that I was unruly. A troubled teen whose mother had died. So he took me back, and that night, Tobias gave me the worst beating of my life.” 

“How bad?” Harry breathed though he felt sure that he didn’t actually want to know. 

For a long moment, Harry thought that Snape might not answer. He was looking towards the kitchen as if it held the answers he was searching for. Finally, he sighed. 

“I came in through the back door and walked as quietly as I could through the kitchen. I saw him lying on the couch and I thought he had mercifully passed out and that I could get upstairs and to my room without him noticing but he had just been waiting for me. He had a leather strap that he used to sharpen his knife blades with, but it was also his favored tool when it came to disciplining me. He let me get halfway up the stairs before he came after me. He grabbed hold of my ankle and jerked me back down the stairs. I hit my head on the steps and my hand got caught in the railing as I tried to grab onto it and it sprained my wrist.

 I remember pulling my hand in towards my chest as I watched him swing his arm forward, letting the strap hit my arm. I could hear it as it swung through the air like a whistle and then the almighty crack as it connected over and over again with my skin. He didn’t care much where it landed and so I had bruises and welts on my face and neck all the way down to my legs. He broke three of my ribs but no matter how much I begged him to, he wouldn’t stop. I passed out and when I came to, I was still on the stairs but I didn’t see him anywhere.” 

Harry watched as Snape seemed to unconsciously cradle his right hand against himself. 

“I never saw him again. I made it to Hogwarts with every intention to keep hiding everything, but I passed out from the pain a couple of days later in class and was brought to the hospital wing where Madam Pomfrey uncovered the truth and told my Head of House and Professor Dumbledore. That’s when they became my guardians.” 

In the next instant, Snape had the air knocked from his lungs as Harry collided with him. He had his arms wrapped around his neck and his face was buried in his robes but Snape could just make out his muffled words. “I’m sorry.” 

Confusion swept over Snape as he grappled with what to do. Never, in all his years, had he been in this situation. Even the two times over the summer that Harry had hugged him, it hadn’t been like this. Harry had handfuls of his robes held tightly in his fists and he could feel his heavy breathing against his collar. 

“What on earth are you apologizing for?” He asked.

Harry took a couple of deep breaths and said, “I’m sorry you had to go through that. It must have been really hard for you.” 

Snape sighed even as he wrapped his arms around the boy who now seemed to be settling beside him instead of very nearly on his lap. He would never understand how this child could have so much compassion for someone such as him. Someone who by all rights, he should hate, but instead, he felt empathy and sadness on behalf of him. 

“It’s alright,” Snape said gently as he patted his back. “It was a long time ago, Harry. There’s really no need for you to get so worked up.” 

Harry nodded into his shoulder but otherwise made no move to let go of him. 

“It’s getting late,” Snape commented, “you must be getting tired.”

Harry pulled away then but wouldn’t look at his guardian. He kept his head down but Snape could see the deep crimson blush coloring his cheeks. “Can I just stay here tonight?” He asked. 

“You can,” Snape agreed. “Everything you need is in your room.” 

Harry seemed to realize then that he was sitting so close to Snape because his eyes widened as he jumped up. “Sorry!” 

Snape smirked. “It’s alright. It’s been a long day. Would you like a bit more tea before heading to bed?” 

“Yes, please.” Harry sat down in his chair as Snape stood up, deciding to make the tea himself instead of calling for Jenka. He went into the kitchen and set some water to boil before calling out to Harry, “Do you want to have breakfast here in the morning?” 

When he got no response, he looked back out into the parlor and was surprised to see Harry dozing in his chair. 

“Harry,” he said as he gently shook his shoulder, “you’re not sleeping out here. Go on to bed.”

“In a minute,” Harry mumbled even as he was slouching further down into the confines of the chair. 

“No, now.” Snape insisted but it was no use. Harry was fast asleep. 

Snape sighed as he turned back to the kitchen, murmuring about ridiculous teenagers who couldn’t even put themselves to bed properly. He took the kettle off of the stove, abandoning his plan for more tea and waved his wand at the tea set, vanishing it from the table. Then, without giving himself a chance to second guess himself too much, he reached down and lifted Harry up from the chair, noticing at once that he was still much lighter than any thirteen-year-old ought to be. 

When he got Harry into his room, Snape laid him on the bed before pulling off his shoes and transfiguring his school clothes into pajamas. The key he had given him fell from his pocket and Snape picked it up and placed it, along with Harry’s glasses, on the bedside table. Then he pulled the covers up over his shoulders and tucked them around him. 

Harry immediately turned on his side and burrowed further into the warmth of the blankets. Snape carded his hand through Harry’s messy hair and heard the boy sigh. 

“Sleep well, Harry,” Snape whispered before turning out the lights and making his way to the door. 

Snape missed Harry’s next words as they were muffled heavily by sleep, though he wouldn’t have believed them even if he had heard them clearly. But as the door clicked shut behind the older man, the boy in the bed rolled over onto his other side and said, “Lo’ you.”

Chapter Text

“You’re awfully quiet this morning,” said Snape the next morning at the breakfast table. Harry nodded. He hadn’t slept very well. He had had nightmares most of the night about Uncle Vernon and he had woken up to feel more exhausted than he had before he’d gone to bed. His head hurt and his mouth was sore from where he had ground his teeth in the night. 

“My head hurts,” he replied, knowing that it would do no good to pretend in front of Snape. A moment later, a potion landed with a soft clink on the table by his plate. “Snape-”

“Take it,” Snape interrupted, “and no whining.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and brought the potion to his lips without argument, noting at once that it tasted like strawberries. 

“You don’t always have to flavor them for me, you know,” he said as he set the vial back down on the table, “I’m not a little kid.”

Snape took a sip of his coffee. “I’ll remember that the next time you’re fighting me on taking one.” He pointed then to the nutrient potion that Harry had so far been ignoring. “Drink that too. I know you haven’t been taking them in the mornings like you’re supposed to.”

“How do you know?”

“I asked Jenka. She said it has been untouched every day this week. You know that if you don’t take it, Madam Pomfrey will have quite a bit to say about it.”

Harry didn’t reply but he did take a drink of the vanilla-flavored potion before returning his attention back to his eggs. They were quiet for another long moment before Harry spoke again.

“Snape?”

“Hmm?” Snape was reading the paper again and Harry noticed that the front page still had Sirius Black’s picture there. He looked away as he asked,

“What’s your boggart turn into?”

Snape turned the page of the paper with enough force that it made a snapping sound. “Not Neville Longbottom if that’s what this is about.” 

Harry coughed in an attempt to hide the laugh that escaped him. He schooled his features quickly though when Snape eyed him above the paper. “It’s not that. I knew you’d be mad about that though. Professor Lupin was really good about helping everyone learn how to turn their fears into something funny.”

“Yes,” Snape said drily, “He’s always been such a bundle of laughs.” 

Harry smirked again. “Did you know him well before he came here? You said he knows about Dumbledore and McGonagall. He sort of acts like he knew you, and he says you went to Hogwarts together, but when I asked him, he said he didn’t know you as well as he would have liked.” 

“I imagine he did,” Snape replied without looking back up from his paper. When Harry didn’t say anything else though, he put the paper down with a sigh. “Yes, I knew Professor Lupin in school. But no, not very well. He learned about the adoption sometime during our fifth year and after that, we became- I don’t know, less than enemies.” He cut himself off with another sigh. “It’s all very complicated, Harry, and it’s really not my story to tell.” 

Harry pushed his food around on his plate until finally, Snape made everything except his nutrient potion and his own coffee disappear. 

“I guess I’m not very hungry,” Harry admitted as he ran his finger over the rim of his glass before taking another drink. 

“Obviously,” Snape replied. “I thought we were talking about Boggarts? What did yours turn into?” 

“I asked you first,” Harry said quickly. 

Snape inclined his head and said, “Mine takes the form of the Dark Lord, as I’m sure it does for many wizards.” Harry didn’t comment, but he hadn’t been expecting that answer. For some reason, he had had this idea that Snape wasn’t afraid of anything and therefore, would see the boggart as it truly was. “Your turn,” Snape said softly. 

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno,” he answered truthfully. “Professor Lupin didn’t let me face it. He stepped in front of me and then it turned into a sort of crystal ball.” 

Snape nodded. “Does he still make it turn into a deflating balloon?” He asked and when Harry looked up at him questioningly, he seemed to realize that he had given away that he knew about Lupin’s boggart. Snape cleared his throat and said, “Slytherins and Gryffindors have always taken defense together,” as if that explained everything. 

“Right,” Harry replied. “Well, he must think I’m really weak if I can’t even handle a boggart.” 

Snape shook his head, “I’m certain it had nothing to do with weakness, Harry.” 

“But then-” 

“Likely, Professor Lupin thought that it would take the form of the Dark Lord. Can you imagine how that would have gone over with a classroom full of third-year students?” 

Harry seemed to nod in understanding even as he spoke his next words. “I did think of him at first, but then I remembered something else.” He looked down at his nearly empty cup so that he wouldn’t have to see the potion master's face. “The dementors. When they were flying around me and when they showed up on the train. When- when I hear her.”

Snape nodded solemnly. “Your greatest fear then is fear itself. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Harry.” 

Harry didn’t reply. Instead he raised his glass once more and drained it before standing up from the table. “I should go. Ron and Hermione are probably going mental wondering where I am.” 

“Wait, Harry,” Snape said as he too stood from his place at the table. “I wanted to speak to you about something else first. I sent a note up last night informing Mr. Weasley where you were so they’re not worried.” 

Harry looked as if he wanted to argue but in the end, he sighed and followed Snape out into the parlor. He took a seat on the couch and waited as Snape settled into his chair. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts and Harry didn’t want to interrupt him, assuming that whatever he wanted to talk to him about must be important. 

“How would you feel,” he began finally, “about me taking on a more permanent guardianship role with you?” 

Harry sat stunned. That hadn’t at all been what he was expecting. “You mean like adoption?” He asked tentatively. 

Snape sighed. “Unfortunately, it would seem highly unlikely that the ministry would ever allow me to adopt you. There are simply too many things in my past.”

“But those things shouldn’t count!” Harry protested. “You were a spy.”

“It wouldn’t make a difference, I’m afraid.” 

          Snape leaned forward as he had done last night and rested his elbows on his knees as he looked across the table at Harry. “When you first came to stay with me this summer, I was granted an emergency temporary guardianship. It was only supposed to last until Professor Dumbledore found a more suitable home for you-“

“But I don’t want to go anywhere else, Snape!”

Harry could feel his insides churning at the idea of having to stay with someone else. 

“I know that, Harry, and that’s why Professor Dumbledore and I are doing everything we can to keep you here. He thinks that even if adoption isn’t an option, I might be able to petition the ministry for long-term custody. You’re already thirteen so in four years, you would be an adult anyway. They may allow it, but even if they considered it, it would be quite a long process and you would of course remain with me during that time while they performed all of the necessary interviews and the investigation.”

“Investigation?” Harry asked. “What sort of investigation? Why can’t they just say yes?” 

“They have to make sure that you will be properly taken care of. They will likely send someone to talk to you about your time here with me, how you feel about it and whether or not you’re happy and safe with me. They’ll also interview me as well as some of the professors, likely a few of your friends, even possibly the Weasley’s.” Snape paused for a moment to give Harry a chance to absorb all the information. Harry nodded before pulling his legs up onto the couch and crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I went through this myself,” Snape continued, “and I know first hand how difficult it will be, but you can do this. They will probably want to see your room here and at home and they’ll want to make sure that you're healthy and being fed properly, which is why I’m insisting that you take your nutrient potion every day like you’re supposed to. I’m also going to set up another appointment with Madam Pomfrey, which you will go to without argument so that she can assess the change in your health from when you first came here and now.” 

Harry groaned but Snape held his hand up. “Wouldn’t it be worth it,” Snape asked, “if you got to stay here?” 

“Yes,” Harry said as he dropped his head back to rest on the back of the couch and closed his eyes. He really was exhausted. “But what happens if we go through all this and they still try and make me go somewhere else?”

Harry didn’t hear Snape stand up, but he felt the couch dip beside him and he rolled his head over to see the older man sitting there. Snape sighed, and though he looked anything but comfortable with the physical contact, he raised his hand and let it rest on Harry’s shoulder, squeezing it slightly. 

“Let’s not cross that bridge unless we come to it.” He said quietly. “We’ll just take this one step at a time. They’ll come, conduct their interviews, see for themselves how you are doing and then with any luck, they’ll leave us in peace. But you need to know that they will be watching our every move. Everytime something happens, they will find out somehow. I need you, more than ever, to promise me that you will do everything in your power to keep out of trouble.”

“Snape-”

“I mean it, Harry. Do not do anything that will put you or your friends in danger. They likely will not give me any second chances and if they even suspect that I can’t keep you safe, you could be as good as gone. Do you understand?”

“Okay,” Harry assured him as he sat up, causing Snape’s hand to fall from his shoulder, “I promise. But how is it going to stay secret like this? What happens if Mr. Malfoy or someone else at the Ministry finds out?”

Snape shook his head. “That’s another bridge that we will cross if we come to it. But I am not afraid.”

“You just said at breakfast-”

“I know. Don’t worry, Harry. Everything will be alright. Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Harry replied without a second’s hesitation. 

“Alright then.” Snape looked long and hard at Harry. “How’s your head?”

“Better.” 

“You still look really tired,” Snape noted. “Why don’t you try to get some more sleep? I’ve got to start Draco’s detention, but I can come wake you for lunch.” 

Harry shook his head. “I’m alright. I think I’m just going to find Ron and Hermione. Catch them up on everything.”

“You’ve got your key, then?” Snape asked, standing up.

“Right here,” Harry pulled the key from his pocket and held it up for Snape to see. 

“Good. Just use it the same as you did last night. Think of your dorm room and the door will appear.” 

Harry held the key in his hand and suddenly the door was in front of him once more. But before he walked over to it, he turned back to face Snape. “Would you though, if you could?” When Snape just looked at him in confusion, Harry said, “Adopt me, I mean? If you thought they would let you?” 

“Would you be okay with that?” Snape asked in return.

 Harry nodded. “I think I would like that a lot.”

“So would I.” Harry thought for the briefest moment that he saw a smile flash across Snape’s face but he dismissed the idea as he turned back to the door. 

          He reached out to open it and caught a glimpse of the stunned expressions on both Ron and Neville’s faces as they looked through to see Snape’s quarters behind them. 

“Bloody he-” Ron stopped himself just as he caught Snape’s stern expression. “Hello, Professor.” 

“Mr. Weasley,” Snape replied. “Mr. Longbottom. I trust that neither of you will be telling anyone about this?”

“No, sir,” they both answered and Harry rolled his eyes as he stepped up to the threshold of the door. 

“See you later, Snape.”

“Behave, Harry.” 

Days turned into weeks and still neither Snape nor Dumbledore had heard anything more from the Ministry concerning the upcoming visits. They began to settle into their routines nicely with Harry going to classes as usual and Snape being sure to give him detentions every few classes. For the most part, Harry had stayed out of any real trouble and so the perceived detentions with Snape had all just been opportunities for the two of them to have tea and talk about their days. Twice now, Snape had let Harry help him in his lab while he worked on a few simpler potions. 

Harry had had his appointment with Madam Pomfrey and she had deemed him as healthy as could be expected all things considered and had even decided that he no longer needed the nutrient potion. As long as he continued to eat healthy, balanced meals of course. Harry had rolled his eyes at that, thinking that if Snape had his way about it, he’d never eat sweets ever. Luckily for him, he still had some stashed away in his dormitory where Snape would never find them. 

All too soon, however, it was time for the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year and it seemed as if no one could talk of anything else. Harry had tried on several occasions to convince Snape to let him go but he had so far been steadfast and unmoving. 

Eventually, Harry decided that stronger tactics were going to be needed and so one day after class, Harry waited until everyone else had left the Transfiguration classroom before approaching McGonagall’s desk. 

“Yes, Potter?” She asked as she straightened a pile of papers without looking up at him. 

“Professor, I wanted to ask you about Hogsmeade,” Harry said before he lost his nerve. 

“What about it?” McGonagall asked suspiciously. “I was under the impression that your guardian had already said no.”  

Harry faltered. “Well, yes, but-”

“But what, Potter? The form clearly states that a parent or guardian must give permission. I am neither.” 

“I know,” Harry said shortly, “I just thought that if you talked to him, you could talk him into letting me go. He’ll listen to you.”
“But I’m not going to do that.”

“Why not?” Harry asked, visibly deflating as he sat down in the chair opposite her desk. 

“Because I happen to agree with him. It’s simply not safe as long as Black is escaped.” 

“But-”

“No, Harry.” She said his name in such a stern tone that Harry was at once reminded of Mrs. Weasley. “I’m sorry, but that is my final word on the matter. There will be no Hogsmeade trip for you this time.” 

Harry stood up so abruptly that the chair nearly toppled over behind him. 

“Fine,” he spat angrily as he made his way to the door, ignoring the professor as she called out for him and letting the door slam behind him. 

Harry still felt angry all throughout his next lesson and into the lunch period. Ron had agreed with him but Hermione had decided that maybe it was for the best, which only served to make Harry angry at her as well. Admittedly, Harry did feel bad for how he had treated Professor McGonagall. She had always been so good to him and she hadn’t deserved that. He had already resolved himself to apologize to her when a folded piece of paper appeared in front of him. Harry groaned, recognizing the handwriting immediately. 

Ron looked over and said, “Rotten luck, mate, but at least it’s not a howler.” 

Harry opened the note and read, “My office. Now.” A few seconds later, the note burst into flames and was gone. He sighed and stood up, gathering his things and doing his best to avoid looking up at the staff table as he said, “I’ve got to go. See you.” 

“We’ll meet you in the common room later, alright?” Hermione tried to sound encouraging but Harry only nodded as he walked out of the Great Hall. 

Harry got to Snape’s office only a moment before Snape who gestured him inside before shutting the door behind them and putting up a silencing spell. When he turned to Harry, he was already sitting in one of the chairs reserved for the students on the other side of Snape’s desk. 

Snape crossed his arms and glared down at the boy. 

“You realize that you will be apologizing to her the first chance you get?” 

Harry nodded. “I was already planning to. I felt bad as soon as it happened but I was too angry to go back.” 

“How many times are we going to have this same discussion, Harry James? You’re not going to Hogsmeade until Sirius Black is back in Azkaban and that is final.”

Harry stood up to face his guardian. “But it’s not fair, Snape! I’m getting punished just because he escaped! And what if they never catch him? You’ll just never let me go? You can’t do that! 

“I think you’ll find, young man, that I very well can. When he’s caught, we can talk about Hogsmeade, but until then, I don’t want to hear another word about it!”

Harry groaned and dropped heavily back into his chair. He knew it was hopeless to argue but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. “Snape, it’s just Hogsmeade. It’s not like I want to go out into London alone. I’ll be with hundreds of other students and teachers, in a crowded little village where I’m sure you would have everyone watching me constantly. Surely Black wouldn’t be stupid enough to try something with everyone around.”

“Black had no problem blowing up an entire street and thirteen muggles just to get to one man. I hardly think he cares about how many students see him.” 

“But everyone else is getting to go. If he were really as dangerous as you say-”

“Don’t even think of finishing that sentence.” 

Snape took a step closer to Harry but the teenager huffed out a breath and turned his head so that he was facing away from him. Snape ground his teeth together and counted back from ten. He didn’t want to yell at the boy and he could feel his own temper rising. 

“Listen to me, Harry,” he said after a moment, “I don’t want to argue with you, but I’m telling you right now that unless you want to be grounded to our quarters for the entire Halloween weekend, I suggest that you forget about going to Hogsmeade. Have I made myself quite clear?” Harry sighed but nodded while still not looking at Snape. “A verbal answer, please.” 

“Yes, sir,” he ground out with as much petulance as he dared before grabbing his backpack once more and walking towards the door of Snape’s office. 

“Where are you going?” Snape asked as Harry brushed past him. 

“To talk to Professor McGonagall.” Harry made no further comment and Snape let him go. He took the seat that Harry had just vacated and leaned his head back against it. 

Merlin, he thought, It’s going to be a long couple of weeks. 

Snape hadn’t been wrong. Though Harry had apologized to McGonagall and he had kept his word not to bring up the Hogsmeade trip again, he also hadn’t gone out of his way to talk to Snape either. He was avoiding him and Snape knew it. He’d had “detention” with him a couple of times since that day in his office but both times Harry had been sullen and quiet.

At first, Snape had resigned himself to just letting it go. He figured that eventually, Harry would grow tired of constantly being in a bad mood and snap out of it, but so far that hadn’t happened and the night before Halloween, Snape had ended up sending him to bed early because of his attitude. He had decided that it was either that or some time in the corner and honestly, Snape had been tired too. 

Harry had gone without a fuss but the next morning he had left before breakfast saying that he wanted to eat with Ron and Hermione before they left. Snape had let him go and retreated to his lab to work on a potion hoping that it would take his mind off of his newfound troubles with Harry. He hoped that Black was caught soon, if for no other reason than because he didn’t want to fight with the boy every time a Hogsmeade trip was announced. 

Harry, having said goodbye to Ron and Hermione at the Entrance Hall, had contented himself to roaming around the corridors without any real place in mind to go. He had just considered visiting Hedwig up in the owlery when he heard his name being called. 

He doubled back to see Professor Lupin grinning at him from inside his classroom. 

“Hello, Professor,” Harry said cheerfully. 

“Good morning, Harry. You didn’t go to Hogsmeade with the others?” 

Harry shook his head and took the seat that Lupin had gestured to before he’d closed the door behind them both. “No. Snape wouldn’t let me. Says it’s not safe as long as Sirius Black’s escaped.” 

“Ahh, yes. I imagine not.” Lupin said as he held the teapot up in silent questioning.

“Sure, thanks.” Harry agreed and then watched as Lupin pointed his wand at the pot until steam began to blow out of the top. 

“I only have tea bags, I’m afraid. But I reckon you might be tired of leaves at this point,” he said with a smile. 

“Definitely,” Harry replied with a roll of his eyes. “How did you know?”

Lupin passed Harry a teacup and said, “Professor McGonagall told me. You’re not worried, are you? I hear that Professor Trelawney picks a new student each year.” 

Harry took a sip of his tea before replying. He considered telling Lupin about the black dog he had seen twice now, but ultimately decided against it.  “No, I’m not worried.” 

“Good,” Lupin said as he drank from his own cup. “So, how have you been getting on with your classes? I hear you’ve gotten a few detentions this year, though I’m not sure you mind all that much.” Lupin’s smile brightened and Harry was reminded for a moment of Fred and George. He seemed almost mischievous himself and Harry found himself smiling back, his mood considerably lifted already.

“Well, let’s just say that I’m probably not going to be made prefect any time soon.” 

Lupin outright laughed at this. “I wouldn’t be too sure. I had more than my fair share of detentions while at Hogwarts and I still managed to get a prefects badge. Though I have a sinking suspicion that Professor Dumbledore gave it to me in hopes that I would be able to reign in my friends. Though it had the opposite effect I’m ashamed to say.” 

“Were you and your friends troublemakers growing up, Professor?” Harry asked with a laugh.

Lupin could feel a slight blush making its way up his cheeks as he inclined his head. “A bit, yeah. In fact,” he said after a moment, “it’s probably where you get it from.”

Harry’s forehead creased as he stared at the professor, trying to work out what he meant. He didn’t have to wait long, however, because Lupin continued.

“Your dad, James, was one of my very best friends. He and your mother both actually.”

Harry’s jaw dropped and he had to quickly set down his teacup after he almost dropped it in shock. “You knew him?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Lupin smiled kindly at him and said, “I did. We were friends all through school and even after. Until the very end.” 

There were so many questions that Harry wanted to ask that he couldn’t choose just one. And before he could say anything, there was a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” Lupin announced and the door opened to reveal Snape, carrying a smoking goblet filled with a blue potion. He stopped short when he saw Harry sitting with the professor and Harry made a show of glaring up at the man. Evidently, his mood was still sour when it came to his guardian. 

“Thank you, Severus,” Lupin was saying. 

“Drink it directly, Lupin. It’ll be worthless if you let it cool too much.” 

“Yes, yes, I know,” Lupin said as he took the goblet in his hands before pointing to Harry. “Harry and I were just having some tea. Would you like some?” 

Snape watched as Harry slouched down into his chair and crossed his arms, though he seemed unaffected by it. He smirked and shook his head. “I think not, Lupin. I’ve got a lot to do.” Then he pointed at the goblet once more, “Drink it, and if you need more, let me know. I’ve brewed a whole cauldron full.” 

Lupin nodded and Snape left the room. 

“You don’t think you’re being a bit hard on him?” Lupin asked. 

“He’s being completely unfair,” Harry defended. “I don’t know what he thinks is going to happen in Hogsmeade with all those people around. Surely Black wouldn’t be stupid enough to show up there.” 

“He just wants to keep you safe. We all do, Harry. Can you really fault him, or any of us, for that?” 

Harry sighed and sat up straight once more. “I suppose not, but I still don’t like it.” 

Lupin grinned before raising the goblet up to his mouth and draining it as quickly as he could. Harry grimaced. 

“Couldn’t you flavor it?” He asked. "Snape always flavors mine."

“Does he now?" Lupin grinned as if that bit of information was amusing to him, then shook his head. "No, It would make it useless, unfortunately.” As Harry continued to watch him carefully, Lupin said, “I’ve been a bit off-color lately and this is the only potion that helps. Professor Snape was kind enough to brew it for me. I’ve never been the best at potions.” 

“So,” Harry said, changing the subject, “why didn’t you tell me that you knew my parents?”

“I’ve been waiting for the right time, I suppose. And I wasn’t sure what Professor Snape had already told you about me.” 

Harry scoffed. “Not much more than you’ve told me about him. He said that you knew about how he had been adopted and that after that, the two of you had become “less than enemies,” whatever that means. But he wouldn’t say anything else. Said it wasn’t his story to tell.” 

Lupin huffed out a breath and Harry thought he might be annoyed, though all he said was, “Less than enemies. Of course he would say that.”

When Harry only looked at him curiously, he went on, “Another time perhaps, Harry. I’m suddenly feeling quite tired. I believe the potion is already working.”

“Do you need anything?” Harry asked as he stood up to go.

“No, no. I’m fine, thanks. I appreciate you having tea with me, Harry, and feel free to stop by anytime. Maybe we could talk more about your parents soon.”

“I’d like that. Goodbye, Professor,” Harry said as he walked to the door.

“And Harry,” Lupin said just before the door would have shut. Harry looked back at him. “Go easy on Snape, would you? He’s still learning.” 

Chapter Text

“There,” said Ron as he dropped an armload of sweets onto the table in front of Harry, “we brought back all we could carry.”  

Harry grinned. “Thanks!” They were in the far corner of the common room, away from anyone else who might be able to hear their conversation.

Ron and Hermione sat down at the table with Harry and filled him in on everything about Hogsmeade. They told him about everywhere they had gone and Harry found himself turning his head back and forth while trying to keep up with them. It reminded him of when he had conversations with the twins and eventually held up a hand to silence them. 

“Listen,” he said with a laugh, “that’s all really great. Honestly. But the two of you are giving me a headache.”

Hermione blushed. “Sorry. Tell us about your day. I hope you weren’t too bored here. Did you manage to get any homework done?” 

Ron rolled his eyes. “Hermione, it’s bad enough he missed Hogsmeade, you can’t expect him to do work, too.” 

“Oh, Ron, just because you wouldn’t do homework unless someone forced-”

“I had tea with Professor Lupin, actually.” Harry said, cutting into the conversation before Ron and Hermione could get into yet another argument. 

That got their attention and they both turned to face him.

“Really?” Hermione asked brightly. “That’s so nice, Harry! Did he tell you about what we’ll be studying next?” 

Ron groaned, “Give it a rest, ‘Mione.”

“No,” Harry said, ignoring Ron. “We talked about my parents, though. He knew them! They were friends. Best friends even,” he finished quietly. 

“Really?” This time it was Ron who asked. “I bet he has loads he could tell you about them!” 

Hermione nodded in agreement.

“Yeah,” Harry said hopefully, “it would be nice to hear about them from someone who was really close to them.” 

“I’m sure he’ll tell you anything you want to know, Harry,” Hermione assured him with a smile. 

“There’s something going on between him and Snape though.”

“Well, it’s obvious that Snape hates him,” Ron said quickly with a shrug.

“I think it’s more than that though,” Harry replied. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, moving some of the candy out of the way and speaking quietly just in case someone walked by who could hear them. “They both say that they knew each other while they were here at Hogwarts, and Snape said that Professor Lupin knows about how he was adopted. And Snape knows what Lupin’s boggart turns into. And he’s making him a potion because he hasn’t been feeling well. Except that,” Harry took a breath and looked around, but no one was anywhere near them, “it’s the same potion that Snape’s been brewing all summer. I remember because he was working on it a lot while I was helping out in the lab-”

“Snape let you help out in his lab?” Ron asked.

“Ron, don’t interrupt,” Hermione scolded. “Go on, Harry.”

“Well, anyway, I recognized the potion but what kind of sickness could Professor Lupin have that he would need a potion that needs at least a month to brew? And why does he need so much of it?”

“Do you know what the potion was,” Hermione asked thoughtfully.

“No,” Harry admitted, “but Snape wouldn’t let me help out with it at all. He said it was too advanced.”

“And they didn’t tell you how they know each other?”

“No, only that they went to school together. But I know it’s more than that. I have an idea, but it’s just a guess, and I could be completely wrong.” 

The trio talked quietly for the next several minutes until finally, Hermione ushered them up so that they could head down to the Great Hall for the feast. All thoughts of Snape and Lupin were pushed from their minds as they took in the Halloween decorations and all the delicious food. Well, mostly anyway. 

Snape had just stood up from the staff table with every intention of spending the rest of his evening in his parlor, shut off from everyone as he drank a bit of Firewhiskey before going to bed. He would be glad when this dreadful day was over, and the sooner, the better. 

Unfortunately, as his luck would have it, this was precisely when his night would go completely off the rails. Angelina Johnson came sprinting back into the Great Hall and up to the staff table, pausing only a moment to catch her breath. “Professor,” she said to Dumbledore, “something’s happened. The Fat Lady, she’s missing and...and her portrait’s been slashed.”

Dumbledore, McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape were already descending the steps from the staff table and making their way out of the Great Hall, with Angelina right on their heels. 

When they got to the corridor leading to the Tower, Dumbledore immediately stepped up to the portrait, gently running his fingers over the slashed edges of the canvas.

Snape eyed the group of students until he found Harry, standing next to Ron and Hermione. Harry pointedly looked away from him, instead, focusing on Dumbledore’s words as he addressed Peeves. When Dumbledore gave the order for them all to return to the Great Hall, however, Snape caught Harry’s eye and gave an almost imperceptible nod of his head. Harry said nothing of course, but Snape hoped he would take it for the warning that it was.

“Stay in the Great Hall with the others. Be safe.”

When the students were gone, Dumbledore turned to Snape and Lupin. McGonagall had already left to find Filch and have him search all the paintings for the Fat Lady. 

“Go and get the Slytherins, Severus,” Dumbledore said. “Then I would like for you and Remus to begin your search. Start with the third floor. I doubt he’s still in the castle, but we need to be sure.”

“I can search on my own,” Snape immediately protested, ignoring Lupin as he rolled his eyes. “We’ll be faster if we split up.”

“I don’t want anyone splitting up.” Dumbledore’s voice had taken on a hard edge, a tone that both of the younger professors had heard before, though rarely. Dumbledore sighed, “You will stay together and report to me when you’ve finished.”

“Fine,” Snape agreed before turning away and heading in the direction of the dungeons without another word. He barely heard as Dumbledore told Lupin that he was going to see that the students settled down in the Great Hall.

“ Humenum Revelio .” Snape cast the spell to detect another human's presence as he and Lupin walked into the deserted classroom on the third floor. Nothing happened and Lupin sighed.

“Don’t you think he would use a charm to make that spell ineffective?” 

Snape grunted but otherwise made no comment. 

The two of them had been searching the third floor for an hour but had only covered about half of it. There were just so many classrooms and hidden places to check. For the most part, they had worked in silence, both lost in their own thoughts, but every once in a while, one would comment that a room was clear or make a suggestion of where to search next. 

“Harry and I,” Lupin started suddenly as he busied himself with checking behind a large cabinet, “had a nice talk today.”

“How very good for you,” Snape replied dully, also intent on not looking at the other man. 

“He asked about his parents.” There was a sadness in Lupin’s voice as he said the words. As if he regretted having to talk about them. 

They cleared the classroom and moved on. Back in the corridor, Snape said, “I’m sure you jumped at the chance to fill his head with stories of your adventures with your little pack.” 

Lupin sent a glare towards Snape’s back and replied, “Don’t start, Severus. Not tonight. Not when it’s so close to-” Lupin cut himself off. “I’m not doing this with you.” 

Snape turned around to face Lupin, his eyes narrowing at the other professor. “Why should tonight be any different than any other night? Don’t start? Nothing has started between us in over three years.” 

“That’s not my fault!” Lupin could feel his anger rising and he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm it, though it helped very little. “We’re supposed to be searching.” He said quietly, turning away from Snape. “I’m going to check the Trophy Room.” 

He just barely heard Snape murmur, “Of course, just run away. It’s what you’re good at.”  

Snape had no problem hearing the low growl emanating from Lupin’s chest. At one point, he might have taken a step back. Rethought his plan. Even been afraid. But Snape did none of those things now. Now he stood his ground. He was angry too and he hadn’t been afraid of Remus Lupin since they’d been sixteen years old. 

Lupin turned back around, his blue eyes flashing angrily. “Alright, Severus, you want to do this now? Let’s have a go then. I’ve been out of the country for nearly four years and while I hadn’t expected a warm welcome when I came back, you’ve been outright frigid! I’ve tried talking to you but you don’t want to hear anything I have to say! All you do is push people away!”

“And you left in a hurry, didn’t you?!” Snape shouted back. “Not a word this entire time? What? They didn’t have owls where you disappeared to? You couldn’t have taken the time to write just a line or two to say you were okay? If not to me, then the least you could have done was sent one to them!”

“You know damn well why I had to leave!” Lupin defended himself.

“No, you didn’t. You could have stayed and dealt with it. But instead, you ran away like a coward!” Snape spat the words as if they were something awful he had tasted.

“Yes!” Lupin’s chest was heaving now as he struggled to take in air. He stalked towards Snape but then turned and faced the window, his anger only building as his thoughts rushed around his mind. “I was a coward so I took off. Is that what you want to hear, Severus?!”

 It had been a long time since he’d lost his temper this way and he was finding it hard to reign it back in. He recoiled from the window and shot Snape another glare. “I knew he was coming and I was afraid that I wouldn’t be able to handle seeing him. Not after everything. Not after that night. Have you seen him?! Merlin, Severus, he looks just like James!” He took a breath. “And I know you lost Lily that night.”

“Don’t-” Snape tried to interrupt but Lupin continued. 

“I know she was your best friend and I know it hurts! I know it hurts so bad sometimes that you’d rather rip off your own skin than to think about her. If it meant you just didn’t have to feel anymore! I’m sorry you lost her, Severus, you know that I am, but you lost her and I lost all of them ! In one night, everyone that ever cared about me was gone! Taken! 

And so no, I couldn’t stand the thought of staying in these halls, watching day in and day out as he walked about them. Took his meals where James ate. Slept where he slept! Knowing, knowing, that they’re dead because of me. Because make no mistake, Severus, I should have known. If anyone should have known what he was going to do, it should have been me! I should have known he was a traitor but I didn’t, and because of that, I lost them all. You lost Lily and Harry doesn’t have parents. And I-” He looked at Snape and blue eyes locked with black, “I understand why you blame me,” he whispered. 

Snape stood rigid as Lupin slid himself down the wall and sat on the floor of the corridor. All fight went from him. He pulled his legs up so that his arms could rest across his knees and he leaned his head back against the stone wall. He found himself thinking that Lupin looked tired. There were bags under his eyes and the scars that stretched across his face seemed to stand out starkly against his pale skin. Snape sighed. 

“Did you even drink that potion I brought you earlier?” He asked as he walked over to the opposite wall and after a moment of eyeing the floor, sat down so that he now faced Lupin. He mirrored his posture except that he kept one leg out straight and stared at the other man.

Lupin snorted. “Yes, mum. I was a good little boy and took all my medicine. Happy?” he said sarcastically as he closed his eyes. 

“Ecstatic,” Snape replied drily. 

After several moments in which they both sat quietly, Snape said, “I don’t blame you.” 

Lupin didn’t even open his eyes. “I blame myself enough for the both of us.” Another moment passed before Lupin spoke again, “For the record, I barely told Harry anything. I wasn’t sure what you had already told him and I didn’t want to overstep.” 

“What did you talk about, then?” Snape asked before he could stop himself. 

Lupin replied immediately, looking straight at Snape now. “You. He was plenty mad at you for not letting him go to Hogsmeade.”

Snape scoffed. “It’s not the first time and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

Lupin gave a small laugh. “Yes, well, if memory serves, it’ll probably just get worse. So you’ve got that to look forward to.” 

“I can hardly wait.” 

“He might look like James, but he definitely acts more like Lily. He’s too curious for his own good.” 

“I’ve noticed,” Snape replied. 

“I’m afraid,” Lupin started tentatively, “that if you don’t tell him about Sirius soon, he’s going to find out on his own.” 

Snape nodded. “I’ve already thought about that. I’m just waiting for the right time.” 

“Take it from me, the longer you wait, the harder it will be.” 

“Is that why you stayed away so long?” Snape asked.

The quiet stretched on for so long that Snape thought that he wouldn’t answer, but finally, he heard Lupin sigh. “The longer I was gone, the harder it was to come back. I tried, loads of times before, but I couldn’t do it. I got as far as the castle last year. It was night and I stood outside near the edge of the forest and stared up at Gryffindor Tower for over an hour, just wondering if he was inside and what he might be doing with his friends. But then I just left again.” 

“Then why did you come back now?” 

Lupin looked abashed as he stared at the tops of his knees and shrugged. 

“I think he had an alarm on the wards that would alert him if I ever came. He’d been at the Ministry that night but he found out the next morning. I didn’t think about that and so I was staying at Hog’s Head thinking that I would just disappear again. But dad had been there when I woke up. Just calmly sitting in the chair beside the window in my room as if he routinely found his sons hiding out in an old inn.” 

Snape opened his mouth to reply when suddenly another voice spoke from further down the corridor.

“Dad?” They both looked up to see Harry, standing there, caught out of bounds. Again. 

Snape and Lupin were both on their feet in seconds. Snape looked murderous while Lupin stood behind him, frowning. Though it would seem that self-preservation hadn’t yet kicked in for Harry as he continued to speak, “Do you mean Professor Dumbledore? I knew it! Neither of you would say but I just knew it. They adopted both of you, didn’t they?” 

“You’d better have a really good reason for not being in the Great Hall, young man,” Snape continued to glower at him as he spoke and it finally seemed to dawn on Harry that he’d been caught. 

He backed up a step. “I...uh, well I-”

“Spit it out, Harry!” Snape hissed and Harry was grateful that there was no one else on this floor to hear them. 

He dropped his head and mumbled something that Snape was pretty sure sounded like, “Ron’s rat slipped out of his pocket a few minutes ago.” 

“So you just decided to search the castle for a rat when you know good and well that the teachers are searching the castle for Black. Someone that we know to be after you and someone who not two hours ago slashed through a portrait in an attempt to get into your common room?!”

“No!” Harry tried to defend himself. “It wasn’t like that. We didn’t think he’d get so far and we were only going to look for him for a minute but I guess I just wasn’t paying attention.”

Snape took a deep breath. “Where is Mr. Weasley?” 

Harry shrugged but a look from Snape had him giving a verbal answer instead. “We split up. He went towards the dungeons.” 

Snape was seething and he reached out and took Harry by the arm, careful that his grip wasn’t too tight, and began leading him down the corridor with Lupin walking behind them. “I’m taking you back and this time you will stay there if I have to personally have Percy Weasley stand guard over you-”

“Snape, don’t.” Harry struggled to get out of Snape’s grasp but it was no use. Snape just brought them up short and turned Harry to face him. 

“Don’t what, Harry? Don’t be upset that you disobeyed the rules? Don’t be worried about you once again putting yourself in danger needlessly?”

“I’m going to find Ron,” Lupin suddenly spoke up from behind Snape and Harry watched miserably as the man left them alone in the hallway. 

“We just wanted to-” 

“I don’t care.” Snape cut in. “I don’t care one bit about that rat. I’m sorry he’s lost but in the grand scheme of things, Harry, I’d take a lost rat of losing you any day.” 

Harry looked up and met Snape’s eyes before finally giving a long sigh and looking away. “I’m sorry. We just didn’t think.”

“Obviously,” Snape replied, loosening his hold on Harry but continuing to walk down the hall. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Harry and Snape arrived at the entrance to the Great Hall just as Lupin and Ron turned the corner and made their way to them. Ron himself looked pretty red in the face and Harry wondered briefly if Lupin, the most understanding and forgiving of all their professors, had scolded him as well. He didn’t have long to think on it though as Snape opened the doors and ushered them both inside, following in after them. 

Percy came over to them immediately, a dark scowl on his face as he glared at the two young Gryffindors. “What were you thinking sneaking out like that?!” Percy said harshly. “Ten points from Gryffindor, each. And I’m writing to Mother about this.” 

Ron glared at his older brother as he balled his hands into fists at his sides, but thankfully, he said nothing. Snape spoke from behind them. 

“You can let her know that they are both receiving a detention as well.” 

Harry and Ron both groaned but again, refrained from speaking, knowing that arguing would get them nowhere. And looking around, Harry noticed that quite a few students had raised up in their sleeping bags to see what was going on. The last thing Harry wanted was to put on a show. 

“Into bed with both of you,” Lupin said, causing both boys to look up at him. “And, Harry, I’ll be writing to your relatives in the morning as well.” 

Harry looked confused for a moment until he saw the corner of Lupin’s mouth twitch the smallest bit as he raised an eyebrow at him. Understanding dawned on him that Lupin was acting for his benefit so that anyone listening wouldn’t think that only Ron was having a letter sent home and he did his best to seem nervous about that. Though it really wasn’t hard when he thought about the very real conversation he would actually be having with his guardian the next morning. 

“Yes, sir,” Harry answered, dropping his head in hopes that no one would notice the heat creeping up his neck and cheeks. 

Both professors left after that and Percy followed Harry and Ron back over to where their sleeping bags were laid out next to Hermione, who glared up at them from her spot on the floor. When Percy finally left them alone, Ron asked, “Did you happen to find him?”

Harry shook his head. “Sorry.” 

They all turned onto their backs and lay quietly for a moment before finally, Harry couldn’t hold it in any longer and he whispered, “I was right. Earlier about Snape and Lupin. They’re brothers.”

Chapter Text

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit hard on him?” Remus asked as he picked up his cup of coffee and then took a sip.

“No,” Snape replied drily from behind his paper. “He was caught out of bounds. Again.”

Remus nodded. “Yes, alright, but it’s not as if he were looking to get into trouble. He was trying to help Ron find his rat.”

“All the way up on the third floor?” Snape turned the corner of his paper down in order to glare at Remus, who stared back, unfazed. 

“It’s a bit of a stretch, I’ll admit,” he said when Snape had turned his attention back to The Prophet, “but I don’t think he meant any harm.”

Snape sighed and put down his paper before leaning back in his chair. “What are you even doing here?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

Remus glanced around as if the answer should be obvious. “I’m having breakfast with you, of course. What does it look like?” 

Snape tapped the table and their remaining food disappeared. “All done,” he said with a smirk. 

Now Remus narrowed his eyes at the other man and tapped the table himself. His coffee reappeared in front of him, causing Snape to glare down at the offending cup. 

“That’s not supposed to work for you.” 

Remus just smiled and replied, “Jenka likes me just as much as she likes you. Now, stop changing the subject-”

“I’m not,” Snape interrupted. “Why have you decided to grace my humble rooms with your presence this morning? And I really hope that it wasn’t just to try and talk me out of grounding Harry. He knows the rules and it’s none of your business anyway.”

“It’s not my business, but I’m going to try anyway,” Remus said matter of factly. “I need you to let this one go, Sev.”

“Don’t call me that.” Snape quickly spat, though Remus merely rolled his eyes at him.

“I’ll just get right to it then,” he continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “We want to have a family dinner. Mum and I, I mean. We haven’t had one in a while-”

“Three years.” 

Lupin sighed. “Just let me get it out, will you?” He paused and they both stared at one another for a long moment but when Snape made no further comment, Remus went on. “Three years. Yes, I know. But we want to have one with all five of us now. Mum and dad, me and you and Harry.”

“Why?” Snape asked, “And what does it have to do with how I deal with him after last night?”

“Because I want to get to know him!” Remus was quickly losing his patience and took a deep breath to calm himself before he said anything else. “Look, I just want the chance to talk to him and get to know him for who he is. Not just my student, but as someone who is part of this family. He was already a part of mine once, before, well before everything happened, but that was a long time ago. A lifetime ago. And I can’t do that if he’s sulking because you’ve grounded him for something as simple as being out of bounds.”

“He knows the rules,” Snape said simply, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Remus pushed his chair back from the table and stood up, crossing the kitchen quickly to put some space between himself and his brother. 

“Of course he does,” he said finally. “Just like I knew them, and you, too. Have you forgotten what it’s like to go to school where your parents teach?! It’s exhausting, Severus. You have to constantly be aware of what you’re doing and how you’re behaving because if you get into trouble, it won’t just be detention or a letter home to parents who will have all but forgotten about it by the holidays.”

Snape sat quietly, listening to Remus’ words, but only half hearing them. He had been caught off guard by the term he had used, “parents”. 

“It’s not the same thing,” he said. 

“What’s not the same about it?” Remus asked, moving closer to the table, but not taking his seat.

“I’m not his parent,” Snape looked away and therefore missed the look of surprise that crossed Remus’ face. 

“You’re the closest thing he’s got.” He replied simply. Sitting down, he picked up his cup and drained the last of his coffee before tapping the table and watching as it disappeared. “Have you heard anything else about the interviews?”

Snape shook his head. “I’m sure they’re intending to just surprise us by showing up one day. I almost wish they would just get it over with. I hate waiting on something like this.”

“I’m sure it will all work out. We’ve both been through this.”

“Yes, well, I have a feeling it’ll go a bit more like mine than it will yours. Your interviews were easy. Mine was,” He paused as he took a deep breath, “hard.” 

Remus nodded. He hadn’t been around for Snape’s interviews, but he had heard about them and knew how close he had come to being put in a group home. He opened his mouth to say something, anything that would bring at least a bit of comfort to the other man, but as he did so, they heard a small thud, followed by a door shutting. 

“In the kitchen, Harry,” Snape called out, knowing it could only be the teenager. 

A few seconds later, Harry walked into the kitchen looking nervous as he stood just inside the doorway with the ends of his shirt tale twisting in his hands. Snape looked over to Remus who was staring back at him and sighed. 

“Do stop pouting, Harry. Surely a single detention isn’t that bad.”

Harry looked up then. “But I thought-” He cut himself off as he stared at the two men. 

Snape inclined his head towards Remus. “You can thank him, and be aware, that this is the one and only time that he will be able to get you out of trouble. Understood?”

Harry grinned. “Yes.” He looked over to Remus who winked at him. Harry came to sit with them at the table and Remus turned back around in his seat, catching Snape’s eyes as he did so. “That goes for you, too. Stay out of it.” 

Remus held his hands up in surrender before glancing at Harry. “Have you had breakfast yet?” 

Harry shook his head and Snape tapped the table, causing a plate of eggs and sausages with toast to appear in front of him alongside a glass of juice.

“Eat it all,” Snape ordered as he picked his paper up and disappeared behind it once more. “You know how I feel about you skipping meals.”

Harry rolled his eyes but began to eat quickly, content to sit quietly with the two older men. The mood in the room seemed a bit odd and Harry found himself wondering what they had been talking about before he had interrupted. After he had told Ron and Hermione about what he had heard the night before, the three of them had stayed up really late talking about it. They wondered what had happened to Lupin’s parents and why they had been keeping it a secret that they were both adopted. But all of their talking eventually died away as they realized that they had way more questions than answers and Harry hoped that he would learn more about them today. Though with the way both men were pointedly ignoring one another, he wasn’t so sure that now was the best time to start asking questions. 

“So, what are your plans today, Harry?” Remus’s own question brought him out of his thoughts and he looked up from his plate to see the man staring at him.

“Oh, I dunno. Just hanging out with Ron and Hermione I guess.” 

“Ignoring your homework, I’m sure,” Snape added from behind his paper, causing Harry to scowl at him. 

“No, it’s all done actually.” Harry shot back.

“Be sure to give Ms. Granger my thanks,” said Snape sarcastically.

Before Harry could reply to that, Remus spoke again, “What about quidditch? You’ve got your first match coming up.” 

Harry nodded glumly. “Yeah, against Slytherin, and I still haven’t got a broom to replace my Nimbus.” He looked hopefully over to Snape who simply turned the page of the paper without comment. “The match isn’t even a week away, Snape. If I don’t get a new broom soon-”

“Harry, we are not having this conversation again.” Snape banished the paper, finally accepting that he wasn’t going to be able to read it in peace, and looked at Harry. “The money in that vault was left to you for your future. Not so that you can spend it all on nonsense.” 

“It’s not nonsense, though, Snape. It’s a broom. And it’s not like I’m asking for a Firebolt or anything, just another Nimbus would be fine.”

“Harry,” Snape said tiredly as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“You’re just afraid that we’ll beat Slytherin,” Harry mumbled, now staring at his plate instead of eating. “My dad would have understood.” 

Before Snape could even form a reply to that, Harry remembered suddenly that Remus was still in the room and he looked up at him quickly. “Tell him, Professor,” he pleaded. “Tell him that my dad would have understood me needing a new broom.” 

Thoroughly surprised at being put on the spot, Remus floundered over his words.

“I… Well, I don’t-”

“That’s enough,” Snape said sternly and Harry sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re through discussing this today, Harry. We’ve all just had a really long night and we’re all tired. I’m not about to argue with you over this and I promise, we can talk about it later, but the fact of the matter is, whether he would or wouldn’t understand your desire to have a new broom is not the issue. The issue is that at least for now, the answer is no, you are not using the money from your vault to buy a new broom.” 

Harry let out a frustrated breath and turned away from him, though he didn’t argue anymore. Snape glanced at Remus who remained quiet but watched their interaction with interest. 

Snape reached over and tapped the table next to Harry’s plate. Just two quick taps of his finger in the same way he would have done in class to get Harry’s attention. He watched as Harry sighed and looked back up at him, waiting for Snape to speak. 

“Don’t put Remus in the middle of things,” he said quietly, yet sternly. “It’s not fair to him.” 

Harry raised his head to look at Remus who was smiling softly at him. “Sorry,” he said quickly, “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

Remus nodded, his smile growing. “It’s alright. And if I’m being perfectly honest, your dad was rubbish at managing money, so he would have said yes to a new broom, but your mum would have overruled him.” He shrugged then, “Sorry.” 

Harry snorted, “That figures.” 

After that, the conversation between the three of them flowed more easily. Though Snape was, as usual, quieter and more reserved than anyone else, Remus had a way of making Harry feel comfortable and he was actually really easy to talk to. He asked mostly about Harry and his friends and what sorts of things that he was interested in, aside from quidditch of course.

 Remus talked very little about himself, and anytime the conversation turned to him, Harry noticed that he changed the subject without giving much of anything away. They all talked together for the next hour and in that time, the only things that Harry learned about the older man were that he had been Gobstone’s Captain while at Hogwarts, he’d had a number of different jobs afterward that allowed him to travel over much of Europe and had never even considered teaching until this past Summer. 

Eventually, Harry used his key to bring back the door to his dormitory and left the two older men alone in the kitchen. When they were sure he was gone, Snape turned to Remus.

“So she wants to have dinner?” 

Remus nodded. “Yes. How does next Saturday sound? At the house?”

“I suppose I have nothing better to do.”

Chapter Text

 Over the next couple days, the students of Hogwarts could talk of nothing else besides Sirius Black. They theorized every possible way that they could think of on how he had gotten in and how he had also gotten back out without being seen. 

Sir Cadogan and his fat grey pony had been hung in place of The Fat Lady and no one could wait until she was back. Sir Cadogan’s favorite pastime seemed to be challenging the students to duels, and thinking up ridiculously hard passwords and changing them at least twice a day. 

Aside from that, Harry noticed that he was being closely watched. It seemed that teachers were always finding excuses to walk with him in the halls from class to class. It was growing increasingly irritating but by the end of classes on Tuesday, it got exceptionally worse. 

Their last class of the day was Transfiguration, and Professor McGonagall had just dismissed them. As Harry was gathering up his book and notes, she called out to him.

“Potter, please stay behind for a moment.” 

Harry exchanged looks with Ron and Hermione, wondering if he had done anything that would cause his Head of House to be upset with him, but he could think of nothing as of late that he had done. When the classroom had emptied, he walked up to stand in front of her desk and noticed that Professor McGonagall looked deeply worried. Her lips were set in a thin line and her eyebrows seemed to crease together as she looked down at him. 

When the door closed behind the last student, she spoke just barely above a whisper.

“Harry, I’m not sure how much Severus has told you about Sirius Black-”

“I know that he’s after me,” Harry rushed to assure her. “Snape told me before the term even started.” 

McGonagall nodded solemnly. “Alright. That’s good, then.” She sat back down in her chair behind her desk and folded her hands in front of her. “Then it shouldn’t be hard for you to understand what I’m about to tell you. I think, at least for now, that it would be best if you no longer practiced quidditch in the evenings. With only your team members around, it’s very dangerous-”

Harry’s eyes widened in surprise and outrage. “No! We’ve got our first match on Saturday! I’ve got to train! Especially since I still don’t have a new broom.”

This was obviously news to McGonagall as she looked taken aback. 

“You’re still using a school broom?”

Harry nodded. “Snape won’t let me buy a new one with my money from my vault. He keeps telling me I’m supposed to save it for my future. Which is ridiculous because it looks like there is loads in there.” He stopped then as he realized he’d been rambling and looked up at his professor. “But please, don’t say anything to him about it. We’ve been fighting about it a lot lately and I don’t want him to be mad at me.”

McGonagall smiled at the boy and shook her head.
“I wouldn’t get into the middle of that anyway, though I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. I do stand behind my decision as your Head of House, though. I just don’t think it’s safe for you to be out there alone.”

Harry sighed. “Please, Professor. I’ve got to train. We’re up against Slytherin!”

“Well,” McGonagall studied him closely for a long moment before she finally consented. “Alright, but I’m going to insist that it be supervised. I’ll ask Madam Hooch if she is available but I do not want to find out that you have stepped foot on that quidditch pitch until you hear from me first. I want your word, Harry.”

Harry nodded quickly. “I promise. Our next practice is tonight though…”

“I will talk to her and let you know before practice. In the meantime, where are you headed now?”

“Er.” Harry wasn’t actually sure where Hermione and Ron had gone. “To the Common Room, I suppose. I want to see Snape before dinner.”

McGonagall nodded as she rose from her seat once more and led the way to the door.

“Let’s go, then.”

“Oh, thanks, Professor, but you really don’t have to-”

“I am walking you to your Common Room, Harry, and I don’t want to hear any complaining about it,” she said sternly and Harry had no choice but to go with her. But that was definitely something he was going to speak to Snape about. He was absolutely sure that all of this had to have been his idea. 

Once back at the common room, Harry quickly explained to Ron and Hermione what Professor McGonagall had held him back for and then told them that he was going to see Snape. He had been wanting to talk to him all day and hadn’t had the chance yet. 

Up in the boys’ dormitory, Harry pulled the key from where it now hung from a thin gold chain around his neck. Hermione had transfigured the chain from an old shoelace and Harry was once again reminded of just how clever she was. 

The door appeared at once when he thought of their dungeon rooms and Harry stepped through quickly, immediately noticing that Snape wasn’t there. He checked the kitchen but found it empty as well. 

“Snape!” he called out and waited for a reply. He supposed he could just search their rooms, but for some reason, he felt odd about doing that. Technically, he didn’t live here while school was going on and usually while he was here, he only went to his own room if he wasn’t in the parlor or kitchen. Suddenly, he seemed to feel very much like a guest here and he found that he didn’t like that feeling at all. 

“I’m in the lab, Harry!” 

Harry walked down the hallway to Snape’s lab and opened the door, sticking only his head inside as he scanned the room for his guardian. It took only a second to see him standing in front of a simmering cauldron with his back turned to him. 

“Don’t just stand in the doorway, Harry. Come inside,” Snape said as he picked up a vial of something blue and slowly poured it into the cauldron.

Harry came fully into the room and crossed over to stand beside Snape. 

“What are you brewing?” he asked as he eyed the potion. “It looks like the same stuff you were working on over the summer.”

“That’s because it is. It’s for Remus as he’s been feeling ill as of late.”

Harry nodded. “Does he stay sick a lot, then?”

“Sometimes,” Snape said as he stirred the potion slowly. “Though I’ll thank you to not ask him about it or broadcast it to the entire school.”

“I wouldn’t!” Harry said, offended that Snape would think that about him. “What’s wrong with him?”

“That’s his business to tell if he chooses. Though if you’re worried, I can at least tell you that it’s not life threatening and your favorite professor will not be out of commission long.” 

Harry almost grinned as he looked up at him. “I never said he was my favorite professor.”

Snape scoffed. “You didn’t need to. We barely have a conversation without you bringing him up in some way or another.”

“Jealous?” Harry asked with a smirk as he stood back so that Snape could pass by him to get to the cabinet where his potions were stored. 

“Hardly,” he replied as he surveyed the potions before picking up a larger container with what looked to Harry like green slime.

“Gross,” Harry said aloud as he watched Snape pour a few drops into the now-steaming potion, turning it a faint blue color. 

Snape turned down the heat under the cauldron before moving around to fully face his ward. 

“I’m assuming that you didn’t come down here just to watch me brew what is frankly a very boring potion.”

The comment brought back to Harry’s mind what he had actually come for and he shook his head before moving around the table to sit on the stool. 

“You’ve got to tell them to stop, Snape.”

Snape raised his eyebrow and stared down at Harry. “Should I know what you’re talking about?” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “You know you do. Did you tell all the teachers to watch me? You’re all  following me around everywhere. I can’t go anywhere alone. Even Professor Sprout left the greenhouses today just to walk with us back up to the castle. And don’t you think people are going to notice if they see the two of us walking along the corridors together? And then, today after class, Professor McGonagall kept me after class just to tell me that she doesn’t want me to train for quidditch anymore!”

“Heaven forbid that the staff of this school be worried for your safety,” Snape drawled sarcastically as he leaned his hip against the side of the table and crossed his arms over his chest. “And for the record, I didn’t ask them to do that. Professor Dumbledore did, so if you have a problem with an order that the Headmaster himself has asked to be carried out, I suggest you take it up with him. And as for me being seen with you, I walked with the entire class today so I doubt anyone thought anything of it at all.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “I just thought you asked them to. You’re weirdly protective lately.”

“Protective over my ward? How dare I be such a thing.” 

“Alright, you can stop now,” Harry groaned. “I’m just… I dunno.”

Harry let his words trail off and Snape sighed. “Harry, what’s wrong? Really? You seemed upset in class today as well. Did you not sleep much last night?”

Harry shrugged. Snape ignored it and pressed on. “Something’s bothering you. I can’t help you if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.” 

“I don’t know.” When Snape only continued to stare down at him, Harry lifted his hands and then let them fall back down to his sides. “Honestly, Snape. I don’t know what it is. I just feel strange lately but I don’t know why.”

“Strange? Strange, how? Do you feel sick at all?” Snape asked and then much to Harry’s surprise, he raised his hand and placed it on Harry’s forehead, checking to see if the boy felt warm. Harry moved his head away from him and scowled. 

“I’m not sick, Snape!” 

“Then talk to me, Harry. What is it?” 

Harry sighed and picked up an empty vial and turned it over on its side before spinning it on the table top. He watched as the light glinted off the glass as he tried to figure out how to put into words how he felt. 

Finally, as the small vial slowed and eventually stopped spinning, Harry spoke quietly without looking up at Snape. “Are you mad at me?” 

Snape frowned. “Is there a reason that I should be?” 

“I dunno,” Harry mumbled, still looking away from him. “You seem alright, but something feels different and I don’t know what it is. You didn’t even really say anything about catching me out of the Great Hall when I came down on Sunday morning. I mean, I’m glad, obviously, that you didn’t go mental, but I thought you would be upset or something and you didn’t even seem like you cared. And I know that we’ve been fighting a lot. About Hogsmeade and about the broom and I didn’t say sorry for being a prat about you not letting me go. But I keep thinking about it and I am. I’m sorry that I just left Saturday morning and didn’t have breakfast with you and I’m sorry that I wouldn’t talk to you when you saw me with Professor Lupin. But I guess it’s too late now because those people still haven’t shown up for the interviews and I thought they would have by now, unless…” Harry let his words trail off again as he took a deep, steadying breath. During his speech, Harry had gone from mumbling quietly, to nearly panicking as he apologized for fighting with Snape, then back to the most disheartening whisper that Snape was sure he had ever heard from the boy.

“Unless what?” Snape asked, though he was fairly sure that he knew what Harry was thinking now that he had actually started talking. 

“I dunno,” Harry replied, spinning the vial again. 

Snape reached down and picked up the small vial and placed it further along the table, out of Harry’s reach. “Yes, you do know, Harry. Unless what? Unless I told them not to bother coming? Unless I had decided that maybe you weren’t worth the trouble?” Harry didn’t answer but instead, he turned his head away and glared down at the opposite end of the table. He could feel his face getting warm and there was a lump rising in his throat that he tried to swallow down. But it wouldn’t budge and he grit his teeth together in frustration when he felt his eyes begin to sting. 

“If that’s what you want,” he eventually ground out. 

“Well, it’s not.” Snape replied sternly. He reached out and placed his hand on the edge of Harry’s stool and turned it to face him, though Harry stubbornly kept his face turned so that he wasn’t looking at him. Undeterred, Snape simply raised his hand and gently took hold of Harry’s chin before turning his head so that he could see the boy. Harry didn’t resist but he only held Snape’s gaze for a second before lowering his eyes so that he was looking instead at the front of Snape’s robes. He swallowed hard once more and Snape sighed but resigned himself to speaking to the top of Harry’s head. The brief moment of eye contact he had with him was enough for Snape to see that Harry was already on the verge of tears and the last thing he wanted to do was upset him further by insisting that he look at him. 

“I am not mad at you. I didn’t say anything more about Saturday night because Remus asked me not to. I told you that and I wasn’t lying. He wants to have a family dinner next Saturday and he didn’t want you to be in trouble or sulking during it. As for the interviews, I have no idea why they are dragging their feet about coming out here unless they are just intending to surprise us. Which they very well may be planning. I’m sure they would like nothing better than to catch us off guard, but I assure you that I have not, nor will I tell them not to come.”

Harry nodded but made no move to speak or to look up at Snape. 

“I have no intention of turning my back on you, Harry. None at all. Is that what you want?” Snape held his breath as he waited for Harry’s reply and if he were being honest, he was terrified of the answer. What if that’s really what all of this was about? What if Harry just didn’t know how to tell him that he didn’t want to be his ward anymore? 

But Harry looked up then, his green eyes flashing. “No! I want to stay with you! I know I haven’t lived with you for very long but it already feels like it’s been ages and I don’t want to go anywhere else.” Harry bit the inside of his cheek as he considered his next words. “And besides, we already sort of have a routine, don’t you think? You know like, breakfast on Sundays and sometimes we still have tea at night. And...well...we kinda fit together now. Right?”

Snape’s lips turned up in a rare smile as he nodded. “Right. I think we make quite a pair.”  

As he had done a few times since coming to live with Snape, Harry suddenly jumped down from the stool and quickly wrapped his arms around Snape’s middle. However, this time, Snape didn’t even hesitate before bringing his own arms up to embrace the child. 

“I really am sorry about how I’ve been acting, Snape,” Harry said, his voice muffled from where his head was pressed against Snape’s chest.” I don’t know why I keep fighting with you about Hogsmeade and the stupid broom.” 

Harry felt Snape sigh and then felt his right hand leave his back and settle on the back of his head. The feeling was strange, Harry thought, to have someone hugging him, but he found that he also felt comforted by it and couldn’t bring himself to move away from the contact. He wondered what Snape, the bat of the dungeons, thought of it.

“You’re already forgiven, Harry. There’s no need to keep apologizing. And you have every right to be upset about Hogsmeade. I know it’s not fair that you have to stay behind but I’d rather have you angry with me for keeping you safe than to have to hear that something happened to you while you were outside the castle. If I had my way about it, you’d move down here til he was caught.” 

Harry pulled away then and looked up at Snape with wide eyes. “No way, Snape! Do you know how embarrassing it would be to tell the others that you’re making me sleep down here so you can watch over me? They’ll think I’m a baby! Besides, keeping me here didn’t really do much, did it? I was in the castle and he got in.”

Snape looked down at him sternly. “That’s really not helping your case to stay in the tower, Harry.” 

Harry groaned. “Snape,” he whined, “I’ll be fine. I just wish they would catch him already.”

“They will,” Snape assured him.

“What if they don’t?” 

Snape saw the flash of worry in Harry’s green eyes and sighed. “Nothing is going to happen to you, Harry. I promise.” Harry eventually nodded and so Snape turned towards the door of his lab. “Alright, I think it’s time we had dinner. Do you want to eat upstairs or down here?” 

Harry followed Snape out of the lab and down the hallway as he said, “Here. If I go up there then you’ll just have to walk up there with me like I’m a bloody toddler anyway.” 

“Language, Harry.” Snape shot a glare in his direction as he stopped outside of his own bedroom and opened the door. Harry hung back as Snape stepped inside and took off his outer robe and put it in a clothes basket before walking back out, shutting his door behind him.

“Going for a more casual look tonight, Snape?” Harry asked with a grin. 

Snape looked down at his white button down shirt and dark trousers and rolled his eyes. 

“Someone told me I looked like a bat with the robes on.” 

“That someone was right,” Harry shot back as he walked ahead of Snape and into the parlor. “I’m pretty sure it’s not against the law to just dress in regular clothes. I bet you wore robes all the time when you were a kid, too.”

“Actually, I had quite a lot of ‘regular clothes’ as a child. Before I came to Hogwarts, I had never worn robes.”

They both took their seats at the dinner table and Snape tapped the top with his knuckles. Their dinner appeared instantly. Roasted chicken, peas and mashed potatoes with gravy and buttery rolls. Harry grinned at the sight of one of his favorite meals before filling his plate with a large helping of everything. 

“So, after you came to Hogwarts, you loved robes so much that you decided that you’d wear them forever?”

“Why are we still talking about my clothing choices?” Snape asked as he filled his own plate before placing a napkin in his lap. 

Harry shrugged. “I’m just wondering.” 

Snape sighed. “No, I like Muggle clothing just fine, but robes are easier to wear when I’m working on potions as mine have anti-staining spells on them, and since I’m nearly always working on potions, it just makes the most sense to always wear them. I trust that answers all further questions about my attire?”

“Sure,” Harry said with a grin before taking a bite of chicken. 

They ate in silence for a few moments before Harry spoke again. “So, a family dinner?”

Snape nodded. “Yes, Saturday after next.”

Harry scooped up some peas and mixed them with his potatoes. “And I’m coming?” he asked unsurely. 

Snape looked at him curiously. “Yes. As part of this family, your presence is required.” 

“But I’m-”

“Part of this family,” Snape interrupted, putting a stop to what he was sure Harry was about to say. “Yes, you’re getting it now. So next Saturday, you and I will meet here and take the floo to the cottage-”

“We’re not eating in Professor Dumbledore’s quarters?” Harry asked, suddenly. The idea of leaving the castle hadn’t even occurred to him. 

“No,” Snape replied, shaking his head before taking a drink from his glass of water. “He and Mum have a cottage out in the country.” 

“It’s hard to picture Professor McGonagall living somewhere outside of Hogwarts.”

“They mainly use it for a vacation home now but we all lived there every summer and Christmas holidays before.” Snape said absently as he cut up a piece of chicken. 

“Professor Lupin, too?” Harry asked.

“Oh, no, he stayed at Hogwarts year round.” 

“Very funny,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Why don’t the two of you get along?”

Snape took a long moment to chew his food before answering. “We get along fine.” 

“Yeah, and all the Weasley’s have blue hair,” Harry shook his head. 

“You don’t need to know everything, Harry,” said Snape quietly. “Remus and I were close once, believe it or not.”

“He told me when I met him that he didn’t know you as well as he’d like.”

Snape nodded. “I remember you telling me that. But he was referring to our time in Hogwarts, before we were both adopted. After that, around the summer before sixth year, things slowly changed, and by the time we were adults, I considered him my brother in all but blood.”

“Then why don’t you get along now?” 

“That’s enough on this now, Harry. Whatever is going on between me and Remus has nothing to do with you and you need not concern yourself with it.”

Harry sighed knowing he would get no more out of the man tonight. They finished their dinner and afterwards had tea before Harry used the magical door to take him back to his dorm, where for the first time in days, he slept well.

The next few days passed slowly for Harry and by the time that Saturday morning arrived and it was time for the team to meet up for the quidditch match, Harry’s stomach was twisted in knots. They had found out during their last training session that they wouldn’t be playing against Slytherin and now with the weather worsening as the day went on, no one was in high spirits anymore. 

However, as the team sat listening to Oliver’s pre-match pep talk, they heard a pecking at the door to the changing rooms. Angelina, who was closest to the door, opened it up only to have to jump out of the way as Hedwig flew inside along with another owl, a tawny brown one that Harry recognized almost immediately as Snape’s owl, Achilles. The two birds carried a long package between them and dropped it in front of Harry where he sat on the bench. 

Everyone gathered around Harry as he opened it up, and to his great surprise, found a gleaming broomstick inside. On the handle, in shiny gold letters, it read, “Firebolt.”

A collective gasp rose from the group as Harry’s eyes widened. 

“Who’s it from, Harry?” Fred asked, astonishment in his voice.

“I dunno,” Harry answered as he carefully ran his hand down the handle, taking in the sight of it. 

“There’s a note!” Alicia said, pointing to the corner of the box where a small, folded up piece of parchment lay. 

Harry picked it up and opened it, slowly. 

“Harry, I told you not to worry. Good luck today and be careful.” 

“They didn’t sign it!” George exclaimed as he read over Harry’s shoulder.

“What kind of nutter doesn’t sign a gift like this?!” Fred agreed as he took the note from Harry’s hand. But Harry knew who it had come from: Snape. Why would Snape do this? Why would he give him a broom like this? 

Before he had time to think more on Snape’s actions, Oliver spoke up.

“Alright, we’re all really happy for you, Harry. Really, really happy. But we’ve got to go now.” 

They all stood up, still talking about the Firebolt as they made their way out to the pitch. Once they were out, Harry began to scan the stands for Snape and, though the rain was beating down upon them, he thought he could just make out Snape sitting next to Dumbledore in the Teacher’s Box. 

Snape watched from the stands as Harry and the others mounted their brooms and took off. Harry underestimated just how fast the Firebolt could go and Snape found himself holding his breath as his ward shot past them in a blur. He steadied himself quickly though and within a few minutes he was riding it with as much ease as one could with winds and rain battering him from all sides. 

He gasped as Harry nearly hit one of the Weasley twins because he couldn’t see through the rain and gave a sigh of relief when Madam Hooch blew her whistle and they all began to land for a time-out. But only a few minutes later and they were back in the sky. Thunder roared and lightning illuminated the sky in flashes of white and blue.

And then Snape saw them.

“Dad!” Snape wasn’t worried about anyone hearing his slip of tongue over the thunderous 

rain as he stared wide-eyed at the black, cloaked figures that were making their way across the Quidditch Pitch.

Dumbledore was already standing up and Snape followed after him as they made their way down the stands. 

“Get down. Get down,” he repeated over and over, knowing that Harry probably hadn’t even noticed the dementors yet. He searched the sky for him but the players were just blurs of reds and yellows and he couldn’t make out clearly where Harry was. 

But then he saw him, near the Gryffindor goal posts, surrounded by dementors.

“There!” he shouted at Dumbledore who already had his wand raised and he and Snape both began to cast Expecto Patronum at the dementors.

But then, as if in slow motion, Harry was falling. 

Without thinking twice, Snape pointed his wand at Harry and shouted a spell and, in the next second, Harry had been encased in a clear sphere of light, like a bubble, and he floated down to the ground. Dumbledore waved his wand a final time and the last of the dementors fled. He and Snape ran onto the field as the other players touched down on the ground, all running towards Harry. 

Snape vaguely heard Diggory shouting at Madam Hooch that he wanted a rematch but all thoughts of Quidditch were pushed aside as he watched Dumbledore conjure a stretcher for Harry. Ron and Hermione, who had taken off running to the field the moment they had seen Harry begin to fall, were also there and he looked at Ron before pointing to Harry’s broom, that thankfully had also been caught up in the bubble and so remained unscathed. McGonagall was suddenly by his side as well and together they all walked back to the castle and up to the Hospital Wing. 

“Gone!” Snape shouted as he paced back and forth in Dumbledore’s office a little while later. He had stayed with Harry until all the Gryffindors had shown up but then, after Madam Pomfrey had whispered to him that Harry had only fainted again and that she would call for him when he woke up, he had left with Dumbledore. “I want them gone! They obviously cannot be trusted to stay outside the bounds of the school and they need to be sent back to Azkaban immediately!” 

“Calm down, Severus,” Dumbledore spoke softly. He had allowed Snape to vent his frustrations while he penned a note to the Minister because he knew that it would be better than if the man kept his emotions bottled up, but now he needed to speak calmly to him and he outright refused to be yelled at in his own office. Least of all by his own son. 

Snape turned to glare at the Headmaster, but Dumbledore only looked back at him in silence. “Harry is alright, Severus. I understand your anger and worry, I find myself feeling quite the same and I have already written a letter to Cornelius, but aside from that, there is not much that we can do at the moment. Would you care for some tea?” 

Snape shook his head. “No. I would, however, like to know why in the bloody hell that Sirius Black has not been caught!?” 

“And you of course know that that is a question that I can not answer. And dwelling on it takes our focus away from what is important right now.” 

“And what is that?” Snape snapped as he crossed the office to stand directly in front of the desk. He leaned down with his hands on the edge and asked, “What is so much more important than catching that murderer?”

“Harry,” Dumbledore answered simply. “And the fact that he is safe now.” 

Snape sighed and dropped his head, his curtain of black hair now falling in front of his face, effectively hiding it from Dumbledore’s view. He let out another steadying breath as he nodded. 

Just as he was about to say something, there was a knock at the door and Ron rushed inside. “Sorry, Professors!” he exclaimed. He was still soaking wet and dripping water on the floor. With a wave of Dumbledore’s wand, Ron was hit by a rush of warm air and his clothes instantly dried. He looked down at himself. “Thanks,” he said quickly. 

“Why are you here, Weasley?” Snape asked, having no time or patience for anything unless it was news about Harry.

“Oh, it’s Harry, sir,” Ron rushed to say. “He’s awake, and he was fine at first, but now he’s asking for you. It seems like he’s getting upset.” 

“Who’s with him?” Snape asked as he and Dumbledore were already walking towards the floo in the corner of the office. 

“Just Hermione and Madam Pomfrey,” Ron answered. Dumbledore waved Ron over. 

“The floo is quicker, Mr. Weasley,” Dumbledore said and Ron hurried over and joined the two older men in the fireplace just before Snape dropped the floo powder.

Once they had stepped out into the hospital wing, Snape immediately crossed over to where Harry was sitting up in bed, clearly upset as he had his knees pulled up to his chest with his head down and his arms wrapped around them tightly. 

“Harry?” Snape said quietly as Hermione stood up from where she’d been sitting with him so that Snape could take her place. The moment he sat down, Harry launched himself into Snape’s arms and while Snape immediately wrapped his own arms around the shaking boy, he looked up at Dumbledore in a silent plea of what to do. Dumbledore was absolutely no help however, as he simply stood there with that blasted twinkle in his eye. 

“Harry?” Snape said again. “What is it?” 

But Harry only shook his head and so Snape turned as much as he could to look at Hermione. She didn’t need any prompting and immediately said, “I don’t know, Professor. He seemed alright while the team was here, but then he just sort of closed up and wouldn’t talk. But then when Madam Pomfrey came to tell us to leave, he started asking where you were and it seemed like he was getting upset so she sent Ron to get you. Ron was already gone before she could tell him to use the floo, though.” 

Snape nodded. “Harry,” he said quietly so that only he could hear, “you’ve got to tell me what’s wrong. I’ve never seen you like this.” 

“Why do they do this to me?” Harry whispered back. “Why do I keep hearing her every time? I don’t want to hear her anymore.” 

Snape’s breath caught in his chest as he realized what Harry was talking about. He pulled the boy tighter against him. “You know why,” he whispered, now ignoring every other person in the room. “They feed off of your very worst memories.”

“How do I make it stop?” Harry’s pained words felt like daggers to Snape’s heart and he hurt for the child in his arms who had been through too much in his very young life. 

Snape swallowed hard. “There’s a spell. Remus is better at it than I am. I’ll get him to teach you.” 

“When?” Harry asked, finally moving away the smallest bit, but still keeping his eyes solely on Snape. He couldn’t bear looking at anyone else. 

“Not tonight,” Snape answered. “He’s sick and you’re exhausted. You need to rest now.”

But Harry was already shaking his head. “No, I’ll just hear her in my dreams. I can’t stay up here. Please, can’t I just go with you?”