"I need to get Treadle on that chimney," the man remarked as he stepped out of the fireplace.
"Sir?"
"Treadle is my house elf," the man replied. "He will be looking after you during the day when I'm gone at work."
Though it made no sense, Harry knew better than to ask too many questions. He had been well-trained in that regard. He stood up, brushing himself off, and looked around the room. It was a dark and dusty room, with ancient wood paneling and paint stained with years past. He saw a worn couch pushed up against the wall, and a few chairs placed haphazardly around the room. He had never seen a room so different than his Aunt's house in his life, and he felt inclined to like that immediately. He looked across the room, and could just make out that there was a cupboard under the stairs here as well, and shivered in fear.
"This way, Mr. Potter," Snape directed in a bored voice. "Though I'm sure this does not live up to your grand expectations."
Wisely, Harry stayed silent and followed the tall black man up the stairs and down a dark corridor, letting out a small sigh of relief when the cupboard was passed without comment. Lights blazed to life as they walked by, and Harry struggled to keep up with the man's long gait.
"Here is your room," Snape announced as he opened a door with a disused air about it. Harry entered the room, and though it had a few books and papers strewn about, it looked to be a large and comfortable room.
"I get a room?" he asked in wonder.
"None of your cheek," Snape growled darkly. "It may not be the best room, but it is adequate to your needs."
"I have never had a whole room to myself before," Harry tried to explain, watching wide-eyed as Snape flicked his wand and several piles of books and papers disappeared with a pop. Soon the room was mainly empty, ready for its new occupant. With a second thought, he adjusted the height of the desk to work for Harry and also added some children's books that had been stored in the library. With a flick, the bedspread straightened itself and snapped out some of its dust.
"Likely story," Snape sniffed. "Your Aunt and Uncle made a good income and you lived in an adequate neighborhood. You will not be able to solicit undue sympathy from me, Mr. Potter. What did you think, I would put you on the couch? Or in the cupboard?"
"They didn't like me," Harry replied so softly it was almost a whisper.
"Did they treat you like a son rather than a celebrity? They weren't part of your adoring fan base?"
"Celebrity?" Harry asked. "I don't understand."
"Do you really think you can convince me that you don't know you're the Boy That Lived? That you're not the hero of the wizarding world?"
Flummoxed, Harry had no idea how to respond to that. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You can be silent, boy, if you insist on lying," Snape said with menace.
Courage flared in Harry then, he did not like being accused of lying. "I am not lying!" he insisted.
"You do not know me now, boy, but I am Severus Snape. I am potions master at Hogwarts and head of Slytherin house. I will NOT be made a fool of." He glowered at the small boy, intended to set his knees knocking.
"And I am Harry James Potter and I am not a liar," he replied bravely, his fists clenching and his temper blaring.
Severus reflected that the boy did not show wisdom in using his middle name with him, and he fought the urge to slap the child. He certainly showed a lot of courage, he reflected, though at the moment he would take an easily cowed Hufflepuff. But he knew he was frightening at full strength, and this small boy just stood up to him Mastering his emotions, Severus lifted his hand to close the door; causing Harry to flinch. That flinch bothered him, and suddenly made him stop his tirade. Why would the boy flinch from him? He quickly pushed down uncomfortable suspicions.
"Whatever the state of your former domicile," Snape waved their argument off as if he didn't care, "I expect you to unpack, freshen up, and be ready for dinner in one hour. Do you think you can manage that, Harry James Potter?"
"Yes, sir," Harry answered, confused. He had expected this man to hurt him, berate him, or hit him for his response. The Dursleys would have hit him and locked him in his cupboard for days. He certainly didn't expect to be fed dinner.
"When that clock says six o'clock, come down for dinner," Snape instructed.
Harry was left in this big room, looking around and wondering if this really could be his home. Trying to do what his new guardian had instructed, he quickly packed his few clothes into one of the drawers and put the bag under the big, soft bed. He then fingered the bed, feeling the sheets and stroking the comforter in wonder. Gathering his courage, he crawled up into the bed and did what any boy in such a situation would do - he snuggled in and fell asleep.
Snape went to the boy's room in a temper - how dare he disobey and not come down at six? How dare he force Snape to fetch him like a servant? Snape threw open the door, eyes blazing, to be confronted with Harry fast asleep on his bed. Snape was tempted to let him sleep to learn the lesson of getting up, but when he saw the boy's small frame he relented, knowing he needed his dinner. Whether or not the boy was willing to eat healthy food, he felt morally obligated to offer it.
"You have five minutes to get downstairs or there will be no dinner," he intoned harshly.
Harry, waking with a start, blinked and tried to remember where he was. Then, remembering, he looked at the clock and realized it was ten minutes after he was supposed to have been downstairs.
"I'm sorry, sir!" Harry cried, scrambling from bed.
"You will be if you are tardy again," he barked. "I expect you to be punctual, Mr. Potter."
Harry scrambled to put on his shoes, smooth down his hair, and then stood by his bed, ready. With a sigh for his ragged appearance, Snape led the boy downstairs to the dining room. Harry watched in amazement as they stepped into the dining room, and a small, long-eared creature placed a dish full of vegetables on the table. He gasped in surprise as the creature turned towards them and greeted them, "Good evening Professor Snape, young master Potter."
"Good evening, Treadle," Snape answered civilly. Much to Harry's surprise, he ushered the young boy to a seat at the table, and then seated himself in the other one. Harry could not remember a time he ate at a table with another person instead of in the kitchen while the rest of the family ate.
"Dinner looks adequate," Snape told the creature. "I will ring if you are needed."
"Thank you," Treadle answered, and disappeared with a pop. Harry, starting to get used to strange and unusual things every few minutes, was drawn to the smells coming out of the serving dishes. Food seemed of more import than magic at the moment.
"This will likely not suit your picky appetites," Snape intoned as he placed a napkin on his lap and inspected the dishes. "But it is healthy and adequate."
"I like lots of different foods," Harry answered. "It smells really good."
"You will not find pizza and chicken nuggets here, young man," he growled. "Just good, nutritious foods." With that, Snape dished up a healthy portion of baked chicken, mashed potatoes and buttered peas onto Harry's plate.
Harry, barely believing his luck of getting such a large amount of food, eyed it hungrily. He had learned to eat as much as he could whenever he could, because you never knew when you would be locked in the cupboard for days on end. His stomach rumbled watching the food.
As soon as the plate was placed before him, Harry picked up his fork and began shoveling the food as fast as he could.
"Manners!" Snape rapped out, cuffing Harry on the back of the head. "Are you so greedy as to not even wait until I am served?"
Rubbing his head furiously, Harry swallowed what was in his mouth and then blushed with shame. Obviously he needed to reign in his hunger to show better manners, but he only wished he knew what they were.
"I'm sorry, sir," he apologized, putting his fork down and looking down. He wanted to explain, to say how he never ate at a table with his family, and the only meal he could count on was getting one at school. He had always wolfed that one down as fast as he could. He wanted to explain, but the explanation stuck in his throat.
"You should be," Snape answered, leisurely dishing himself up as he had for Harry, and then picking up his fork. Harry watched him closely, imitating his napkin in his lap and the way he held his fork. He tried to deny his desire to shovel the food in and tried to match the pace at which his new guardian ate. He even took a drink of his milk when the man drank his water.
"Upstairs," the man suddenly growled. "I will not eat dinner with someone who is mocking me!"
"Mocking you?" he asked incredulously. "I'm not, sir! I promise!" Harry was near tears at being denied the ability to finish the dinner he so desperately wanted.
"Do you deny you were imitating every bite and drink I took?" Snape growled. "Upstairs now! I will come speak to you after dinner."
Knowing better than to disobey, Harry hurried upstairs so the man wouldn't see the tears forming in his eyes. Though he knew he had already consumed more than he got most nights for dinner, he had been so looking forward to actually being full - such a rare thing for him. His tears were desperate, but any words of explanation stuck in his throat. He went up and threw himself on his bed burying his face in the blanket as shame and anger stained his cheeks.
He heard a quiet pop, and suddenly realized that his dinner had appeared on his desk, along with a napkin, fork, knife, and cup of cold milk. Was this a trick to taunt him with what he couldn't have? Deciding he didn't care, he sat down and found that he could indeed eat it, filling his stomach with the warm food. When he had eaten every last pea and sip of milk, he leaned back comfortably. His guardian couldn't be so bad, he reasoned, at least he had let him eat dinner.
Once his stomach was satisfied, Harry then began to think about Snape coming to speak to him after dinner. His stomach began to churn in nervousness at this, was this some sort of code for coming and yelling at him? Kicking him out of his house? Worse? With trepidation, Harry rubbed the back of his head. The cuff had been sharp but not cruel, enough to say that Snape meant business but not enough to bruise. Apparently this wouldn't be like school where the teachers weren't allowed to physically discipline children. This would be more like the Dursleys.
When Harry heard the man come up the stairs his stomach knotted in fear. Even though logically he knew that he had done nothing wrong, he couldn't help but believe that this guardian of his would disagree. He waited nervously.
"I see you've finished your dinner," Snape commented.
"It was very good, thank you," Harry told him.
Snape eyed him suspiciously, but could not fault the answer. "There will be no dessert for you tonight," Snape told him. "Dessert is for boys with good table manners."
Harry blushed, and stammered, "I will try to improve."
"See that you do," Snape turned away, intending to lead the child downstairs, and suddenly Harry panicked. He had to know.
"Sir?" he asked in a high voice. "I have a few questions."
"Ask them, Mr. Potter," Snape sniffed, crossing his arms.
"Where am I? Is this like Narnia where magic is real?"
"Come now, you must know something about magic."
"Well, I have accidently made a few things happen, but I don't know how it happened. Is that magic?"
"Yes, wizard children start showing accidental magic as they grow up. When you are eleven you will go to Hogwarts and there you will learn how to use it properly."
"Until then, am I to live with you?"
"That's the current plan," Snape grimaced.
Harry really wanted to ask about him being the Boy Who Lived, but decided to get some other questions out of the way first before asking one that would make him mad. "What am I to call you, then?" he asked.
"You may call me Professor or Sir," Snape answered. "I do not believe in that silly 'Uncle' title if someone is not actually your uncle."
"Yes, sir." Harry could not think of something he'd least like to call his new guardian than "Uncle."
"And perhaps I should also make a few things clear to you," Snape answered firmly. "I expect you to be well behaved, respectful, honest, and obedient. I will not put up with any sort of showing off and bullying that your father was so famous for. Unlike your hordes of adoring fans, I will actually hold you accountable and punish you if you disobey. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir. But sir, I have one more question."
"Just one?" he asked, his eyebrow cocked.
"For now. Why do you think I'm famous?"
"Obviously I will not answer such insulting questions. Really, Mr. Potter, you will have to do better than that. Now, if you are done asking inane, attention-getting questions then you may sit with me for an hour before bedtime."
Harry followed him downstairs, and Snape led him to a sitting room with a roaring fire and a few threadbare, comfy chairs. "There are some children's books on that shelf there," Snape told him. "You may select one to peruse."
Happily, Harry chose one with rich pictures and happily curled up by the fire to look through it. Treadle brought in tea, and Harry eagerly took a cup. He had tasted tea at odd times, such as when he was with Mrs. Figg, and liked it a lot. With few words, Snape poured him a cup of tea and added one lump of sugar and an extra measure of milk.
After they had both settled down with their tea, Snape decided he should talk about the schedule he had been drawing up for his ward. "Mr. Potter, I was thinking about your time here and how it should be spent. Most magical children are homeschooled until Hogwarts, although some with better control are able to attend muggle schools. I think at least until the end of term you should be homeschooled here. Each morning you will wake up at seven, and be bathed and eating breakfast by eight o'clock. We will eat breakfast together, and then I will set you assignments for the morning while I am teaching. After lunch, you may have some time to exercise and amuse yourself in the yard, but you may not leave the property without my express permission. You may not speak to anybody either that you may meet. I will be home after my last class, sometime after 4 pm. We will then have afternoon tea while I review your assignments, and then meet together again for dinner at six. Bedtime is eight, but you may read until eight thirty. Does this sound acceptable to you?"
"Yes sir," Harry replied, sipping the tea. "Do I get to play with other children?"
"I don't know," Snape answered, unsure. "I know a few people with children your age, I could look into that later. I suppose you're used to being driven to soccer and play dates every day, but you will have to make some adjustments here."
"Yes, sir," Harry replied, not wanting to argue.
They sat together for a while longer, then Snape sent Harry up to bed. Harry went to bed feeling like this could be a much better place than before, that this could be a place he felt safe and was able to be a normal person. He did not realize how quickly he would be disabused of that notion.
