Chapter Two

Spinner's End

Harry slowly approached the dark house, his head peeking inside as he waited for an inevitable bark of anger. When none came he dared to step further in.

As he finally managed to move passed the door it slowly closed behind him and he jumped a little at the noise. When his eyes caught light he scanned across and realized that this house, was very different then what he had expected.

To his right was a small closet and across the room directly was a narrow door that hung open revealing stairs. There was an old battered wingback chair, a threadbare rug and small coffee table and a rather comfy looking couch that had seen better days. The walls were filled from floor to ceiling with books and a small fire clung to life in a equally small fireplace. Two medium size wi does rested in the front wall of the house, before them was an old record player, some vinyl disks leaning against the chipped and scuffed legs. The long sheer curtains were stained and obviously old, but didn't hold any dust.

He noticed a open doorway leading to what appeared to be very tight and less than tidy kitchen with a dirty window and shredded lace curtains. Next to the wingback chair was a small table piled high with books, journals and newspapers and though the room seemed old and worn thin it was relatively clean and organized.

He stood there taking the space in, the smell of spices, brandy and the fire dancing around his nose. Was he to stay here on his own until he could be moved to the burrow? Was this a safe house, were his friends in trouble? Fear and anxiety plagued him and his eyes suddenly started to look for the man who brought him here to begin with.

"If you're done gawking your room is up here, so shut your mouth and follow me." came a snappy reply from the stairway. Harry's legs moved stiffly as he crossed to the door and peered up into the darkness. He saw Snape leaning over the banister with an old oil lamp in his hand, the soft glow barely lighting the hard edges of his features.

Harry moved up the steps slowly, using his hand to feel the wall and listening to the creeks and protests the old stairs made. When he reached the top he looked at the window and was again met with a dull faded light from the lamps outside, the glass smudged and cracked, the lace curtains looking haggard but dust and spider web free.

He turned then and looked at his professor whose face was cast in a combination of shadow and eerie yellow glow from the lamp, "Your room." The man said stiffly as he used his free hand to push the door open.

Shuffling forward Harry poked his head into the room and realized it was empty save for a desk, a bed and a tiny chest of drawers. It was small, the wood floor looking pitifully up at him with bowing twisted grain and the lone window which held no curtains but seemed the dirtiest of all those he had seen thus far.

His eyes looked back to his professor and the man pointed, "Bathroom." green eyes jumped to the door next to his own and he nodded slowly, his worried expression etched clearly across his face, "My room." Snape pointed to the door at the far end and then pointed his finger straight into the boy's face, "Stay. Out."

Harry nodded his head quickly this time when he caught sight of the look of warning in the man's eyes.

"Breakfast at seven, lunch at noon and dinner at six. Two showers or one bath per day as the hot water is limited and I prefer not to use magic to run my life like some sort of spoiled child. The books in the main room are at your disposal, though I doubt you'll appreciate the offer, treat them with absolute respect and you'll hear no word from me about it. There are no working lights up here at the moment so use the oil lamp on your desk, the matches are in the drawer, do NOT knock the lamp over and keep your matches on you at all times." this made Harry cock-a-brow but he remained silent. "You tell me when you leave, you tell me when your back and you stay out of my way."

Harry nodded quickly again and then looked up at the man with worried eyes and a small frown as he spoke softly "Then… I'm to stay with you."

His professor stared at him a moment before his face contorted into a rather morbid expression, "Is my home not good enough for the savior of the wizarding world? Can't handle roughing it a few months?"

Harry's eyes grew wide as he quickly looked around the small upper floor as the words sunk in, "Didn't expect me to live some place other than a dungeon? Well, the old bat does get out from time to time." the man snipped tartly.

The fact that Snape obviously had come to the wrong conclusion about Harry's line of questioning was tossed aside as Harry's anxiety didn't allow him an ounce of concern to clarify, instead he spoke slowly, his own words sinking in as he said them, "For the whole summer, you and I here… in the same house… together… just you and me … and Dumbledore… he thought this was a good idea? Doesn't he know you and I will kill-"

"We will do as the Headmaster has ordered, we will play nice and get along and pretend all is right in the world. If you can fathom in that stuffy little head how to keep out from under my feet, not talk back and keep from being an arrogant little-" Snape stopped and took a breath, his right hand coming to the bridge of his nose and Harry felt a strange moment of seeing someone he had never seen before. There was a very thin patience the man was trying to hold onto, something he had never tried to do before.

His eyes watching the face before him carefully to see what it was that Harry had never noticed but as soon as the man's hand came away from his face Harry's eyes stopped searching and his jaw set in defiance.

"Just don't think. All you have to do is exist for two and a half more months and we can both put this behind us." with that the man turned and disappeared into his room.

Harry was left to look around his dingy surroundings and feel like someone who had just fallen down into a pit of snakes. Carefully he went into his room and shut the door softly behind him. He made his way to the desk and reached for the drawer, pulling it out and removing the small pack of matches.

He studied the lamp a moment and slowly discerned how it worked, gently removing the glass, lighting the match and placing it next to the wick. As the fire took hold a soft warm glow filled the small room and he got a better look around. He replaced the glass top and noticed his trunk was under the small cot of a bed, his spirits lifting slightly when he realized the covers and sheets were new and looked warmer than what he had had at his relatives.

Next to the bed, rising no higher than his knee was a very old fireplace, simply meant for nothing more than keeping the chilly nights at bay. He turned to see Hedwig's cage on the floor under the window and he crossed to her, picking her cage up and placing it on the desk by the lamp.

He struggled with the window a few moments later but managed to shove it open wide enough so the owl could swoop out, Harry uttering soft commands for her to be careful as the area was new and he didn't know what she would be greeted with.

Soon enough he was left to sit on his bed, his hands between his knees and his eyes staring at the wall before him. He had taken a small pile of twigs from the mini fire rack and had started a tiny blaze in the equally tiny hearth. After awhile he had managed to get it going well enough to add several pieces of wood.

The chill and gloom of the room was slowly fading away and Harry realized it was late. As he had nothing to do, or more precisely, had nothing he wanted to do he simply removed his shoes and socks, changed out his jeans for his cottons and set his glasses on the pillow next to him.

Despite it all, the shock of what had just happened today didn't start to sink in until now. He was going to be spending his entire summer with Snape in some old house, in some dirty neighborhood surrounded by smog and filth. The fact that this still seemed better than his aunt and uncle's home truly unnerved him and yet as he lay there, a new form of dread started to move in.

For Harry Potter did not know if he could last two and a half months alone with Snape. He didn't know if he could go from neglect and trying to survive day to do, to complete isolation and utter silence.

He heard a door open in the hall and his eyes grew wide when he realized that Snape had just entered the bathroom. Pipes groaned and protested but soon enough he heard a shower running and Harry realized he had a very serious answer to a very serious question.

Professor Snape did, in fact, wash his hair.

Harry felt a small smile tug at his lips as he thought about telling Ron, who was dead set on the idea that the oily git, as he liked to refer to Snape, had never bathed a day in his life. His smile faded as Harry realized he didn't know if he would be allowed to write to Ron or to Hermione for that matter. Snape had told him very little so far and the idea that he had been brought here because the Burrow had been compromised set his nerves on fire.

Tomorrow, Harry would have to face Snape and figure out why this situation had come to pass, why he had been left in the care of the man who hated him most, had hated him first really. He needed to know if his friends were okay, if Voldemort had made a move and caused harm to his family. Then, if all was well he would write to Dumbledore and see why the HELL he had been put into a situation such as this. Harry rolled onto his side, ignoring the sharp ach of longing this place elicited for a certain godfather and his past residence at Grimmauld Place, and slowly fell asleep.

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"No!" he yelled horsley as he sat up in bed. The springs below creaked at the sudden movement and Harry looked around the space to see a slated gray room, empty of anything intimate or personal, a raw ruddy red glazing the floor from the fire that was almost out and the oil lamp dark with no flame to give him light.

A faint hint of morning sun was starting to come through, though it looked more gray and depressing than Harry wanted to admit. He didn't know the time but he had to guess it was early, as he didn't hear any signs of life or morning birds outside the window and Hedwig didn't appear to have returned from her nightly excursion.

"Day one, Harry." He said softly to himself as he rubbed at his tired eyes and felt the sweat on his shirt sticking to his skin. He tried to shake the dream from his mind, fading screams and burning flesh dancing and echoing across his mind. He quickly removed his clothes and changed into something fresh.

It was too early to shower as he didn't dare wake up the sleeping man two doors down. So, he decided to explore his temporary home-away-from-home before Snape woke for the day. He could use some coffee anyway and perhaps leaving this drab room would clear his mind.

Remembering Snape's orders he pocketed the matchbox and then peered out from behind his door. He was met with silence so Harry slowly made his way down the stairs, trying not to catch every single squeak they made and wincing when he was unsuccessful.

He pushed open the door at the bottom and found the sitting room deserted, the fire still going but the wall lamps extinguished. It was warmer down here and he felt the chill of the upstairs leave him with a shutter.

He silently crossed to the kitchen and gave another wince when he saw it. Pressed against the wall separating the sitting room from the kitchen was a small three seater table, just as worn and tired as the rest of the house. Beyond that set into the right wall was a door leading outside. Along the far wall under the window was a very tight counter space and to the left was a fridge and a rubbish bin with pale cabinets above.

His eyes scanned the counter and to his surprise they landed on an ancient looking percolator with enough dents and dings that one could assume the poor thing had met its fate by the swinging branches of the Whomping Willow.

Harry grabbed a chair and brought it to rest before the fridge, he stepped up to open the cabinets and was relieved to see no rotting food stuffs and in the very front a tin of coffee.

He grabbed it greedily and got to work.

Ten minutes later he had washed a mug that had been in the sink and was now sat at the kitchen table sipping on a piping hot cup of coffee. The silence of the house suddenly wasn't so oppressive as he realized at this time yesterday he would be woken up by several bangs on his door, some slanderous names and many demands for him to go work.

He heard a faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the house, most likely the next room over and took a deep breath as he registered the dusty morning light finally starting to spread into the kitchen.

In this moment, this singular moment he felt sleepy, safe and content. The pale yellows and off whites of the kitchen didn't seem so bland with the sun adding a little life, despite the dirty window and filthy shredded curtains. The smell of the coffee surrounded him and gave him a feeling of home, the magic elixir slowly flowing down his throat to pool like a warm blanket in his often starved and empty belly.

Despite his preconceived notions, despite Harry's utter dislike of this new situation or his current roommate he was determined to make this summer better than what it would have been at the Dursley's. Snape had honestly tried to hold his sharp tongue and uneven temper in check last night, much to Harry's shock, so maybe, if he tried really hard he could extend the man upstairs the same kindness.

Harry placed his elbows on the table and tried not to scoff at the feeling of doubt that washed through him. He had to try and stay positive, for he had nearly sunk into a comatose depression at his relatives. He couldn't do that here, couldn't let Snape see his weakness or the man would just pick him apart.

Sirius was dead, he was alone again and he wouldn't feel the same or any better until he got back to his friends, his only remaining family. He could survive this, if he could just keep his hot headed nature and his quick mouth under control.

There was a sense of anxiety and fear in his lower stomach, something he couldn't find a cause for. But it had ate at him since last night. The house was creepy but not very foreboding and nothing yet had been anything close to what he had expected from a man like Snape. He didn't have the puerile imagination of some idiot who would assume the man actually lived in some dungeon, but he hadn't expected Snape's home to be this normal. Still, Harry couldn't shake this new fear, whatever it was, from his stomach so all he could try to do was live with it.

And still, questions plagued his mind, questions he wanted answers too. Why did Dumbledore send Snape, why was he staying here with the very man who hated him more than Voldemort did. How did this come to pass and why, why was he not at his aunt's house where the wards could protect him, or at the burrow where he had stayed before?

The most astonishing and frustrating questions being how in the hell did Snape know his aunt, or perhaps he should ask how his aunt knew Snape. Did that mean Snape had known his mother? Or was their knowledge of each other something that had occurred after Harry was placed in his aunt's care? Was it safe for him here? Were his friends in danger? He needed answers but Harry had a sinking feeling Snape wasn't the one to give them. Perhaps he should write a letter to Dumbledore, there was a chance the man could and might explain.

Suddenly, a presence filled the small space and Harry's eyes slowly strayed up from his steaming cup to see the man in the door, a startling cold black contrast to the warmth of the kitchen. Harry didn't say a word at first, the two just staring at each other until finally he got up the nerve to swallow and point to the percolator, "There's Coffee."

The man's eyes strayed to Harry's cup and then to the counter before they came back to linger on the rising steam, the man opened his mouth to speak but then shut it and simply crossed to the sink, took out a mug without bothering to rinse and poured himself a cup.

Harry made no comment about the lack of hygiene for all he knew the cup was already washed and the space in this cramped little kitchen left no other options to the man.

He turned swiftly and left leaving Harry to sit there in confusion and worry. Harry gave a little jump when the man's head popped back in, "Eat. If you are hungry." The words were slow and even, those dark eyes betrayed nothing and Harry simply nodded.

The man disappeared again and Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He sat there sipping on his coffee for another ten minutes or so before he poured himself some more and then went to stand before the sink. He grabbed a dirty rag from the edge and slowly wiped one of the window panes clean. Outside showed small traces of green, an alley and more dirty housing.

He sighed softly and turned away, leaving the rays of light that streamed in from his small window cleaning to fall onto the dishes in the sink.

His mind was far off as he entered the sitting room, his eyes finally able to see the colors though faded and hidden. It was another worn space, though bigger than the kitchen it felt colder, less comfortable and his eyes scanned the bookshelves. He walked to the farthest wall, near the front door and started to read the spines.

"Excellent!" he said as his excitement grew when he saw a book labeled, "The Full Adventures of Sherlock Holmes" his greedy hand instantly reached for it as he smiled only to stop at the sound of papers shuffling.

He turned his head over his shoulder, arm still extended and hand still clamped onto the book.

Snape sat in the wingback chair, coffee on the small table before him, dark orbs peering at him from over the top. Harry instantly released the book, gently poking it back into place with a finger and hurried towards the stairs, keeping his head down and the red on his cheeks hidden.

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Any hour later his stomach was rumbling as he sat in his room and tried to work on his homework. He made the realization that with all the books at his disposal, though reading was not his favorite pass time, (despite his weakness for detective stories from the 1800's) he would actually have the opportunity to get his homework done before school started.

There was no way in hell Snape would keep him from it, in fact he had a feeling the man would most likely force it upon him at some point if he didn't do it.

He was now closing his Herbology textbook and knew if he didn't eat he would regret it later so he quickly put the rest of his things away and headed out of his room.

When he descended the stairs into the sitting room Snape was nowhere to be seen so he assumed the man was up in his room though he hadn't heard the man despite the proximity of their doors.

He entered the kitchen feeling far less stifled and allowed himself to take a deep breath

No Uncle, no aunt, no cousin, food for you, you're allowed to eat again, so what do you want to eat Harry?

He rubbed his hands as he licked his lips and realized he was enjoying the prospect of food far too much considering where he was.

He opened the fridge and found more than expected but less than he would have liked. Among the items therein were milk, eggs, bread, carrots, tomatoes, mushrooms, broccoli, cheese, olives, pickles, a glass jar of what appeared to be dried oats, a smaller glass jar of some sort of cereal (to Harry's utter surprise) and several bags of ham, beef and chicken slices from a deli. A very small assortment of condiments rested in the tiny shelf on the door and Harry instantly knew what he was going to make.

Excellent, make an omelet.

He grabbed two eggs, the pitcher of milk, the bag of ham, several mushrooms and the block of cheese. With his arms full he swung around gently using his foot to shut the door only to reel back and slam into the fridge at the sight of Snape watching him from the entrance that led outside. The door hung open, Snape leaning against the doorframe with his arms cross and his dark eyes watching Harry calmly.

Harry's eyes scanned the ground and looked at the food in his arms before he glanced at Snape and then back at the food, guilt and shame washed over him though he had no reason to feel either, perhaps it was just years of living with his aunt who was such a penny pincher or perhaps because the black eyes watching him now seemed disgusted with his actions but he had promised himself to not get defensive, this wasn't his home it was Snape's so he tried to take the right path, "I- hungry… I'm hungry-" he started pitifully, he hugged the food tighter to his body and pressed further into the fridge despite himself, "may I please- can I- I can put it all back and just eat the eggs but- food? Do you want-" he trailed off and looked down again unsure what to do.

He took a deep breath and looked up again reluctantly making eye contact and Harry spoke as smoothly as he could, "May I please make an omelet? I'm hungry, if you would like I can make one for you… too?"

The man just stood there staring at him, the coffee cup held in his long fingers, arms still held tight across his chest. He finally turned away, continuing to lean in the door and sip at his coffee, "Eat. I am not hungry. Bacon's hidden in the back under the bread if you want it." was all he said and Harry instantly set his supplies on the table and went back for the bacon.

The man continued to stand in the doorway though he seemed to pay Harry very little attention and the boy went to work. Gathering all his cooking supplies and tools needed, he had to wash a couple but didn't mind as he was about to eat breakfast and the very idea excited him.

It took Harry a moment to ascertain the stove was actually under a small section of metal countertop that could be removed but once he had that sorted Harry realized it was a gas burner.

"Oh. Keep the matches on you-" he murmured as he pulled them from his pocket and went to light the stove. It took him several attempts and he nearly lost his eyebrows once but eventually he got it going and soon had the pan ready to go.

Uh, butter- was there butter? Go check for butter.

Harry was gratified to see a single stick of butter standing straight up in the door. He grabbed it and was dropping a pat into the hot pan.

No burns this time, keep the heat low. He offered to himself in his head completely forgetting he was in the company of someone else.

He masterfully prepared the ingredients, mixing the eggs and milk with quick light whisks and then slicing the mushrooms, grating the cheese and chopping the ham. As he used an ingredient he put the rest back, keeping his space clean and organized. Whenever he needed a utensil he simply grabbed one from the pile that lay on a draining pad next to the sink. Finally his eyes turned to the bacon, his hand hovering over it before he turned to look at his professor whom he had nearly forgotten, the man was watching him again but his face remained impassive.

Maybe I shouldn't, it's expensive- save it…. for something better.

The man said nothing over his hesitancy so Harry put the bacon back in the fridge and felt satisfied it would serve as a wonderful treat later.

He dropped the ham in and waited patiently despite his watering mouth for it to gain that golden brown edge and then poured the egg over top.

30 seconds. He said to himself and so he waited, adding the rest of the ingredients and flipping the omelette at the end of counting.

He waited again before he dug a plate from the sink, removed the pan from the heat and used a quick flick of his wrist to get the meal from the pan to the plate.

He set his plate on the table, finished cleaning up and then finally sat down to eat.

His eyes landed on a pair of shakers on the table against the wall and brought one to his nose and smelled, it was pepper so he added some and repeated the process again to verify the other was salt, Harry had learned sugar on eggs was disgusting a long time ago, that and his Uncle hated it as well.

He ate quickly, feeling the man's eyes on him the whole time. When he finished he sat there awkwardly not sure what to do. What did he do at his relatives house after eating? At school? At the burrow?

At Privet drive he would clean up after everyone, then begin chores, at school he would go to class, study or go to his dorm and at the burrow he would spend time with friends and play games. What was his place here? His duties? Should he ask, or just disappear upstairs? More homework?

He hesitated and then slowly turned to see the man was still staring at him and he stared right back a moment before he cleared his throat and asked, "Do I have chore- is there anything I should do before I go? Do you want me…. What should I do now Sir?" his face was aflame by the time he was done and an uneasy anger reared up in his chest at his own awkward and spineless questions.

The man didn't say anything at first, he stood from his leaning position and took up the boys empty plate, the rest of the kitchen already clean from the boy's cooking habits.

"You may do what you wish, but if you leave be back before dark." the reply was soft, near gentle in its sound but for some reason Harry felt a shiver run up his spine before his eyes grew wide and he sat there a moment dumbfounded, "You mean… I can- I can go out? I don't have to stay inside? Is it safe sir?"

Snape stood with his back to the boy and once again remained silent for longer than was necessary, he placed the plate in the sink before he said, "Do you realize what you just did Potter?"

Harry felt his stomach twist in anxiety and he instantly spoke, "No, sir."

"You dare try to lead me to believe you honestly don't?" his voice had gotten low and he glanced at the boy over his shoulder.

"No, sir. But I can fix it…. if I did something wrong?" Harry offered in a confused tone, he didn't know why he felt so much less himself here. Why he was so determined not to piss this man off and instantly cave under any scrutiny. It was like someone had stolen his backbone and he didn't understand this stagnant fear pooled in his gut, nor did he know how to get it to go away.

"You gathered ingredients, prepared them, measured them accordingly, waited for the proper amount of time, all while keeping your workspace clean and tidy and then finished it off without burning it, exploding the gas line or starting a fire."

Harry stared at him, his mind struck blank as he eyed this man who had now turned to face him, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

"I made breakfast-" Harry started, unsure if this was the correct answer, "I have to make breakfast for my relatives all the time, dinner too. My aunt tells me what to do and I am expected to remember so I can do it again later-" and he stopped and stared up at Snape with wide eyes realizing what the man was truly trying to get at.

"The great Potter can cook a perfect breakfast without a single problem but he can't make a potion to save his life. Oh the irony. Did your aunt threaten you with more chores if you didn't comply?" the man hissed as he stood and approached the table, he towered over Harry and the boy's jaw clenched as his own brows furrowed, "No, just a frying pan sir, a very hot frying pan."

And Harry stood and moved around the man before he exited the room, his eyes clenching shut as he tried to halt the words that wanted to lash from his tongue.

Temperance Harry, don't lash out.

Stupid, he was stupid for admitting such a thing though he doubted the man would believe a word. The sudden thought of the diagnostic spell the man had performed appeared in his mind and Harry realized what Snape had just done.

Slytherin cunning indeed!

"Piss off!" Harry fumed as he slammed the door to the stairs behind him and made his way to his room. If he had his way he wouldn't come out for the rest of the day.

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By five that evening Harry was going stir crazy. He had elected to skip lunch and to his surprise Snape had not sought him out which was a relief. Harry had written a rather long and mildly frustrated letter to Dumbledore but had yet to receive a reply. The sun was still in the hazy sky so he decided to head down and see if he could get out.

At the bottom of the stairs he slowly opened the door and walked into the sitting room, Snape sat in his chair, this time with a book, a glass half full of an amber liquid on the coffee table.

When he reached the center of the room Harry stood there waiting silently and after several seconds managed to raise his eyes to see those black holes peering at him from over the book, "Yes?" came the man's soft voice and Harry was taken aback, he had expected anger from Snape, instead the man just seemed indifferent to his presence. Still, he didn't let it get to him as Harry cleared his throat, "Sorry… about earlier. I didn't mean to- to lose my temper with you. I just didn't want to talk about- can I go outside?"

Snape stared again, that long pause that was really starting to annoy Harry to no end.

"Back before-"

"Dark. Yeah, I know, I mean… I will be- back… before dark." Harry said nodding as his fingers dug into his palms.

"Go on then." Snape said with impatience and Harry nodded again and turned quickly for the door, "Right, thanks." He said without thinking and then he was out on the steps looking down the rows of houses that sat nestled in the hazy fog of this dejected little place.

He took a breath and then not knowing what to do sat down. He could walk and explore but honestly he might get lost. He did have a tendency to lose his focus and if he got lost he'd be late back.

Things were already getting tense, those damn long pauses, those dark intense eyes. He hated it but knew he should be more grateful, the man wasn't doing anything. It was nearly exasperating to not know how he was supposed to be. He always knew depending on where he was. But here, this was new, alone with Snape and the man keeping most of his scathing remarks to himself.

If they fought Harry knew how to fit in then, he could fight back. But if the man gave him nothing, simply watched him with those cold stern eyes he would begin to feel like he was at his relatives house, nervous and shifty, trying not to do anything wrong. Yet, this man hadn't asked anything of him but to follow a handful of rules.

Harry was beginning to feel uncomfortable and so he knew things were going to come to ahead, he just wished they wouldn't. Suddenly a ball rolled past his feet and he looked up. A small group of kids his age were trotting down to him, "Oy! Balls off field, can you toss it back?"

Harry looked between them and the ball and then back, unsure but not afraid. Was he allowed to spend time with other kids? Or did he need to keep his profile low? Were they muggles or magic folk? Harry suddenly realized that Snape had literally given him nothing to go off of. Considering the man's past classes were filled with endless notes and instructions so detailed Harry could hardly keep up, he was shocked the man had allowed him to be so uninformed in the matter of how he was supposed to be.

Harry stood and grabbed the ball, passing it back quick before he watched the boy kick it around.

"Ya play?" He asked.

Harry shook his head no and remained quiet, "You wanna learn?" the other teens waiting patiently with soft smiles and open posture.

Harry looked at the house behind him and rubbed the back of his head nervously, "It's okay if you suck, Benny sucks too, sucks real hard."

"Hey, fuck you Sam!" The boy said flipping him the finger.

Definitely muggles Harry thought and suddenly the idea of hanging with muggle teenagers seemed like a pretty normal thing to do. So, he slowly walked forward and one of the girls held out a hand, "I'm Stacy." she said with a smile, "Harry." He said softly as he shook it lightly.

"Well Harry, let's see if you can score a goal." and he smiled at her from behind his glasses.

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Harry tripped coming in the door and laughed a little at his own clumsiness, he was sweaty and breathing hard and felt better than he had in days. This was going to be the best summer ever.

"You're late." and Harry stopped, his face losing its color quick and his stomach churning with a sudden shot of anxiety. He tripped and landed with a thud on the floor before he realized who it was, Snape was standing from his chair, in the center of the room with arms crossed and hip jutting, eyes narrow and jaw set.

"Sorry- I… the game, made me- I lost track of time. I was playing football- there are kids… my age...kids." He said weakly and realized that wasn't even a coherent sentence.

Snape's arm stretched out to him, a single finger motioning for him to come and Harry swallowed as he slowly complied. This was his realizing moment, he suddenly understood why he had tried so hard from the start to not piss this man off.

He was alone with Snape, not at Hogwarts where his friends and the teachers could help fend the man off. Dumbledore wasn't here to keep the man from getting out of hand, and there were no witnesses if the man chose to act out his frustrations or anger.

Harry was ALONE with him, and he realized every weak spineless feeling he had been angry at himself for having had been only one thing, a habit of survival.

"Sit." the man snapped and Harry was instantly down on the couch with his hands holding his knees tight. Snape dragged the coffee table forward and sat down harshly before him.

A hand came to Harry's shoulder and gripped it hard and Harry closed his eyes and turned his head away, but the pain Harry was expecting wasn't there in that grip. Snape's other hand took up his chin and forced his face to look forward, still a firm grip but once again no pain, "I said, you were to be back before dark. What I expect from you is to be back before dark. It is not a hard concept, even for someone like you Potter, and I won't be so lenient next time. You have a certain amount of freedom here you have most likely not had during your previous summer holidays, so if I were you I'd not abuse it." He said the last part louder than the first and Harry could tell he was holding back, he couldn't retain the small flinch that came from him when Snape released his shoulder nor his hands painfully fisting his pants.

"Am I clear. You are here before dark, or you will regret it." Harry nodded ferociously quick and Snape released his chin, leaving Harry to pant furiously as he tried to calm his overactive expectations.

Snape continued to sit before him, hands joined together as his mouth rested on his thumbs. Harry was looking down at his lap breathing heavy still, eyes wide and worried yet he seemed to be calming down. Obviously the boy had expected much worse but was only greeted with a stern talking-to and mild physical contact.

"Now-" Snape began and Harry's eyes glanced up from under his brow, "Go shower. Then bring your studies down with you and you will eat dinner. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." Harry said as he stood and jetted for the stairs. He didn't see the thoughtful look on the man's face or the eyes watching him leave.

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Harry showered quickly and only stopped for a second when he noticed all his bathroom items were in there. His toothbrush in its own glass cup, his mouthwash and deodorant and his favorite shampoo. He savoured the heat on his sore body and then dressed quick, unsure where to put his dirty clothes he took them back to his room and laid them out on the floor to dry and air out.

He grabbed his bag and a clean jumper before heading back downstairs. Once he entered the sitting room he saw Snape in his chair reading, the man didn't spare him a glance, "Bag on the couch, food in the kitchen." He said and Harry dropped his bag on the sofa and headed for his meal.

On the table was a plate with sauteed mushrooms, a hot ham and cheese sandwich and steamed vegetables. He sat quickly and ate, "Slow down, Potter." He heard Snape call irritability and the boy did his best to comply. The food was warm and tasted well enough so he slowed down and tried to eat more casually.

As he chewed stray thoughts came to his mind, such thoughts that he'd rather not know the answer to, such thoughts as why, how and where. Why was he here, how was this dissension made and where were his friends. These three questions simply led to more questions and his head was spinning with worry and confusion. He didn't want to ask Snape, the man thus far had been relatively decent and he'd hate to push him towards anything that could cause problems.

On top of all of that were questions about how Snape knew his aunt but Harry had already tried once and the man had cut off his line of questioning quickly. The letter he had sent to Dumbledore was sounding more and more like a great choice, given his options.

The incident that had just occurred not even twenty minutes ago was still in his mind as well. Snape's fingers taking up his chin, the firm grip on his shoulder and those dark eyes betraying nothing. Snape had simply watched him, as if to gage his reaction. There had been something in those eyes, a sort of giddy amusement but Harry was quick to dismiss that. He had never seen the man look amused, save for his snarky rather haughty smirks, which, seemed to always be saved for when Harry was in trouble and Snape got to exact his righteous punishments. Harry didn't even want to dwell on the idea that Snape had cooked his meal, let alone the fact the man was quite possibly trying to hold his temper back.

When Harry finished he took his plate to the sink, washed it and then wiped down the table, making sure to get the crumbs and tossed them into the bin. He re-entered the sitting room and went to the couch, hoping he was making the right assumption.

He sat down slowly, his eyes glancing to his professor as he gently took up his bag and pulled out one of his school books. He located a quill and his ink jar which he sat on the coffee table and pulled out his rather sloppy notes and parchment.

The silence that followed was tense though after a few minutes became relaxing and save for the crackle of the fire and the tick of the clock there was no noise and neither spoke a word. The soft sound of Snape turning a page every thirty seconds or so made Harry's eyes scan up and he watched, counting the time between page turns.

"Staring is rude." Snape said without looking up, his voice was soft but neutral in tone.

Harry looked away quickly and replied, "You read faster than Hermione."

Dark eyes glanced up and back down in a flash. "I would hope so as I've been reading a lot longer, you apparently work as slow as a snail and are easily distracted." The man replied.

Harry stared at him a moment before he shook his head and went back to work, an hour passed and he finally snapped his Herbology textbook closed.

"Done already?" Snape asked sarcastically and Harry had to bite back a scathing reply, maybe the man wasn't being as nice as Harry thought.

"I've finished Transfigurations, Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts. All I have left is Charms and…" he trailed off and looked down before he let out a sigh, "This will be the first year I go back with all my homework and studying done, it will make Hermione happy, probably make Ron's brain explode."

Snape continued to scan his book, "I was unaware Mr. Weasley had a brain."

Harry should have gotten mad but he could only manage a soft glare and packing up his bag with slightly more force than was necessary. He hesitated a moment before he finally felt bold enough to try to get some answers, "Sir?"

The man did not look at him, instead he gave a soft acknowledgment and turned the page, "What is it, Potter?"

"I have… questions….about the situation, sir."

Snape continued to read, not bothering to look up from his book as his eyes continued to scan, "Obviously." came his slow reply.

"It's just that…. Well…. Normally, when I leave my relatives for the summer I go to the Burrow, or order headquarters… and I was just wondering why-"

"Why you've been placed with me?" the man finished for him.

Harry didn't hear any animosity in the man's words, didn't hear any anger, but Snape had always been hard to read so Harry proceeded carefully, "I'm not complaining sir, it's just… my friends. If I'm not there am I to assume the Burrow has been compromised? Are my friends-"

The word dead would not pass his lips so he decided to finish with a less troublesome word, "Hurt?"

There was a very long pause from the man, near excruciating, and Harry waited with baited breath to know the truth that this man apparently knew, Harry was sure this man knew.

"Your friends are fine, Mr. Potter. Last I heard Mrs. Granger was with Mr. Weasley at the burrow."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and put the last of his supplies into his bag, "So, Professor Dumbledore just decided to… but your a double agent…. Won't me being here compromise your position or cause problems?"

Snape finally seemed to give up on reading and snapped his book shut, his dark eyes scanning up to look at him with a narrow intensity and Harry suddenly wished he had just taken the good news about his friends and walked away.

"Never you mind about that, leave it to the adults. The Headmaster would not have asked me to do this if he felt it would jeopardize my position in the order. The information I bring from the Dark Lords circle is too valuable to be placed second behind you. Stop asking stupid questions and just accept the fact that you are here with me and let it go."

The man stood then and made his way towards the stairs with his book in hand, "As for whatever questions you may still have, swallow them. I'm not here to entertain you nor am I going to answer to a child for the deeds of men."

Harry was left frozen in his spot on the couch, something inside him snapped a little and he felt a small trickle of anger start to flow. He would have to be careful now, the first blow had been struck.

As Snape reached the top of the stairs Harry heard him storm towards his room and when he entered he actually slammed the door behind him. Harry had no clue what he had said or why the man had suddenly gotten so upset out of nowhere but perhaps it was best to leave the questions for Dumbledore.

PAGEBREAK

As he lay in bed that night Harry couldn't fathom what was happening in his life. He was living with Snape, he was eating, sleeping and bathing with Snape in the same house. No matter how he worded it- he had just spent a relaxing if not slightly awkward hour enjoying the quiet and a crackling fire with Snape.

He had not snapped back at Snape's joke at the expense of his best friend…. He felt like a traitor, but not just for biting his tongue but for not putting up a fight or kicking and screaming or writing to Dumbledore sooner or trying to get away. He had simply accepted it like he was some young child unaware of how many rights he actually had. He should be questioning this, should be angry- but his heart just wasn't in it.

When had this lethargy started, when had he become so compliant? He never was before. Perhaps it had started when Sirius had died, or perhaps when Snape had healed his back or cured his food poisoning, or even when he kissed his aunt goodbye. Something had shifted and Harry didn't feel like himself anymore.

He felt tired and weak but he also felt like he didn't care, his insecurity about his place at this house was daunting yet he was doing okay so far. They hadn't really bashed heads, not truly and if he kept his tongue they wouldn't. Tomorrow was day two, he just had to keep his mind right and kept from getting too far ahead of himself.

PAGEBRRAK

Severus sat with a humph onto his bed. He let the book fall from his hand and tumble to his lap. His right hand came to grip the bridge of his nose as he let out a frustrated sigh.

He couldn't do this, he wasn't going to be able to do this. So far, he could barely utter two words to the boy let alone try to say something affectionate. The relationship just wasn't there, there was no baseline for this to even start. At least Black had the history of being the boy's father's friend. The dog had Remus to back up all his claims as well and the man, having been an extrovert, was far more persuasive and easy going then he himself was.

How was he even supposed to begin the process of making friends or bonding with the brat? He had insulted the boys studying habits, then insulted the boys friend only to snap on him for completely legitimate questioning.

The dark Lord had sent him on a fool's quest, and without more information Dumbledore was at loss for what to do besides allow it for now. He was living with the bratty son of his ex-tormentor and he could do nothing but try his very best to keep his sharp tongue and uneven temper under control.

He had wanted to verbally accost the boy multiple times throughout the day, make comments on his timid and spineless behavior, it was a sign of weakness and a scream for pity. Where the boys dignity went was beyond Severus and it disgusted him to see it.

Yet, despite so many years of his own raging thoughts that the boy was spoiled, lazy and entitled Potter showed all the signs of being nothing but an abused and extremely neglected youth. His social skills were poor, his nerves always on fire and his mind constantly trying to find exactly where he belonged within a given hierarchy.

He was borderline OCD now that he was in a new and unknown environment, going the extra few miles to not give Severus any excuse to come at him. Without the support of his fellow Gryffindors, or the teachers who favored him, not to mention Dumbledore, the boy was far less likely to mouth back, far less likely to want to defend himself. He was pliant and much easier to control, command and dominate.

The sheer fear and anxiety when Harry had come home late to find Snape waiting for him was something Severus couldn't help but savour as he had never seen it before. His interest was peaked and he couldn't resist bridging that space and pushing those boundaries of fear. To actually see those constantly defiant eyes finally submit and fill with an anxiety that could rival that of Longbottom.

Severus would be lying if he said to anyone else he had never tried to elicit such a response from the boy in class. He couldn't help but study the boys face with intense eyes as he sat before him, joined hands hiding his small smirk as he watched those fear filled eyes wait for some harsh blow to his face or chest. He almost felt that dark perverse nature of his win out but he had simply instructed the boy to shower, study and eat. How he had wanted to drink in that fear, play with that anxiety, but Severus had quickly shut down such dark thoughts knowing that was the exact opposite of what needed to happen.

Tomorrow would be the second day and Severus realized he would have to be very careful, he needed the boy to trust him, if the Dark Lord had his way, Potter would even love him before this summer was over, but having this much control over any one person could be very tempting. It could become debilitating to the boy if this were to come to pass and feed into Severus's now mostly dormant want of power.

Still, all he could do was wait, hope Voldemort would summon him again and tell him more of the plans he was trying to lay. Dumbledore could come up with some answer if he just had a little more information.

Severus had the ability to act, lie, manipulate and deceive any person he needed to get information, build trust or gain favor but this wasn't just any person. It was Potter, and if he wasn't careful he would fail this task and not only have to face his own failure but the wrath of Voldemort and Dumbledore. He would have to make a plan of his own and he had a feeling he just might know how to start.

This plan of his had sat in the back of his mind all day, his clever brain trying to work it out and make sure that if and when he enacted it the timing would be right.

Black may have been friends with Harry's father, but Severus had been friends with the boy's mother, a fact that Severus would bet for anytime to be the more tantalizing of the two parents. Potter would want to know everything, and knowing that he was close by to his mother's childhood home would drive him mad, leaving Severus the perfect opportunity to play the man of the hour.

This type of manipulation was low, down right near cruel, but it was a means to an end and at the very least it would help Potter play into his hands. The trick remained of when to drop such prolific information on the boy's lap…

There was an obvious option, one that used the boy's natural curiosity against him but that also meant that Severus would have to allow the brat access to his quarters. He would also have to give the brat more information then he was prepared to, yet here was his answer. Severus needed a way to get the boy into his court, the obvious option was his friendship with Lily, but having the boy find out other truths wasn't an option so he would have to play this particular game very very carefully.

Now, the only question that remained was when should this little gamble of his be put into play.

PAGEBREAK

Another dream shattered his conscious and pulled harshly at the sheets of his sleep. He was sweaty again but unlike yesterday morning today it seemed the dream was to follow him. Tired red eyes simply stared at his breakfast which consisted of toast and butter, and he knew he just wasn't hungry for it.

He sat there from five in the morning until the sun started coming in through the window, until his coffee was blistering cold and his toast soggy. His mind far away in the dream he had just had were voices echoed and Sirius was screaming with blood pooling on the floor. His mother and father hanging from a tree, suspended by toxic green light and their eyes glowing as they reached for him.

He didn't feel the tear roll down his cheek, nor did he sense the presence of the dark figure standing in the doorway. The voice of his potions professor seemed far away at first, a faint ripple in his conscious mind, barely rising above the din of haunting memories or the eerie blank ink of nothingness he was feeling in his chest.

"Potter! Look at me-" and Harry felt his hollow and exhausted eyes scan up but he didn't actually see the man standing there, he nearly looked through him, his responses to outside stimuli more reflex than actual cognitive thought.

The man stared back at him, his dark eyes taking in the image before him of a boy who appeared to be traumatized by some unknown force, haunted and lost in some horror he couldn't see.

Snape crossed to him and pressed a reluctant hand to his forehead, "You've got a fever, Potter."

Harry seemed to come to and actually looked at the man for a moment, still he didn't respond, "How long have you been awake?" Snape asked irritably.

"What time is it?" came a raspy reply from the boy's throat.

"Half past seven."

"Two and a half hours." Harry said softly as he looked back down at his toast, "So, for the past two hours and thirty minutes you've been sitting here ignoring your body's obvious ailment and contemplating eating soggy toast and drinking cold coffee." it was a statement and Harry simply looked back up at him before he nodded and said, "I couldn't sleep."

"Couldn't or wouldn't?" Snape snapped.

"If I could do you think I'd be down here?" Harry snapped right back.

"Watch your tone." Snape warned and Harry looked away irritably before he sighed and said, "The fever will go away on its own. It always happens when I dream about Vol…." and he stopped because he didn't want to say the name. Didn't want to acknowledge the only true link between himself and Snape.

Voldemort.

Harry closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, "Get out of my head-" he muttered as he felt that damn twitch in his neck, felt his head turn just slightly as if he was trying to get a flee out of his ear or get someone to release his head from their grasp. A shaking hand came up to his eyes, thumb and middle fingers rubbing at them despite how dry and sore they were.

"Shower." Harry said, he stood quickly, teetered on the edge of falling but caught himself on the table, "Em fine." he murmured to Snape who seemed just as surprised as the boy that his arm was out stretched with intent to steady him. Standing up straighter, Harry left his toast and coffee on the table, left Snape to stand there and watch him slowly transition through the space of the sitting room and go upstairs to try and wash away some of the muck.

Snape watched the boy go and felt something small and slithery roll in the pit of his stomach. Something he hadn't felt in near two decades. His own eyes closed as he realized what the tiny pitch in his gut was.

Pity.

Clenching his teeth Severus pushed the small inkling of humanity away and slowly turned and then stopped. He decided against following and went to pour himself some coffee, only to slam the mug down, spread his palms onto the counter and lean forward. His eyes scanned nothing as he waited and fought with himself, he was supposed to care, or at least act like he cared.

Severus was supposed to get the lad to trust him, to like him…. But every chance he had to step up and start forming some sort of bond he dashed it, it was in his nature. How was he supposed to win the boys trust when he himself trusted no one?

"Shite." The man muttered and he turned towards the sitting room with a stiff back and clenched hands. He silently climbed the stairs, a trick that had taken him years to learn. He heard the shower running but didn't hear any movement. The door had not been closed all the way so he pushed it open and saw the boy standing before the mirror sans any clothes or his glasses.

Severus did not show any outward signs of humility or surprise, his face remaining neutral as Potter seemed to realize he wasn't alone and slowly turned around. It was like slow motion then, Potter's face twisting in anxiety and shock as he jerked back at the sight of the man watching him. He landed on the toilet with a harsh smack and reached for a towel which he pulled over his private area.

The boy looked up at him with wide eyes before he glanced down to his chest, green eyes bouncing over bare flesh before he repositioned the towel and then looked back up in a state of utter anxiety, "Professor, what… is there something… what are you... " he seemed in such a state of shock he couldn't finish his sentence but Severus forced himself to remain absolutely neutral, not allowing his surprise, however small, to trickle onto his features nor giving any signs that what he saw was cause for alarm.

"I am going to bring you a potion and I want you to take it." Severus glanced over the boy's body again quickly before he gave a soft sneer, "Stop acting like such a prude, anything you have I've seen. Now, get in your bloody shower and wake yourself up."

He shut the door with a loud bang and walked into his room and shut that door as well before he strode to his cabinet and yanked open a door, he was digging furiously for several bottles before he stopped, closed his eyes and let out a faint little growl.

Severus tried to push the images he had just seen out of his mind, tried NOT to care, tried to be completely indifferent about it. But as he tried to center his normally calm and controlled mind the image of Potter naked, covered from neck to feet in scars, burn marks, old wounds and nearly faded bruising was pushing his limits.

If Severus had ever had any doubt in his mind about the signs and signals he was picking up from Potter he had just gotten the full serving of truth. Between the diagnostic spell, the utter change in the boy's demeanor from confident to anxiety ridden and now the image of the boy's body utterly sliced, beat, cut, burned and scared… some of those scars looked to be older than six years… he would have had to be around eight for the scar on his left shoulder blade to look like that….

It looked like a belt buckle Severus….

"Damn it! I don't care!" the man hissed and he grabbed two bottles from his cabinet and slammed that door shut too, "I don't WANT to care! I don't know how to do this!" for some reason repeating the same words that he had said to Albus earlier in the week made him feel mildly better, as if he was somehow justifying his inexperience, his near lack of empathy.

Yet, he hesitated, opened the cabinet door one more time and grabbed another bottle, he shut it again and then turned to head back to the bathroom. He knocked and Harry bid him to enter, this time the boy was in the shower, curtain securely shut.

"Take all three of these and then come down stairs. I wish to speak with you. Don't keep me waiting." and then he was out the door and heading to the sitting room. It was only eight o'clock in the morning but Severus already wanted a stiff drink.

A/N: R&R MUCH LOVE APPRENTICE 08! THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS!