"I'm not doing this anymore," Malfoy said, dropping his mop and throwing himself into an armchair, raising a cloud of dust.

"Why didn't you tell Snape, then? Easy enough to be brave once he isn't breathing down your neck. Get up. I'm not going to do your work for you."

Malfoy glared at him, and Harry swallowed his frustration and turned away from him. Let Malfoy deal with Snape himself, when the room wasn't clean and Snape demanded to know why.

"You know why he's making us do this, don't you?"

Harry shook his head. "No idea."

"It's your fault."

Harry pursed his lips and continued mopping. Malfoy had been contrary the entire morning, always whining about one thing or another. Not that Harry could really blame him. They had scrubbed two bathrooms, and were now working in a room that seemed to actually grow larger with every passing hour.

"I said," Malfoy repeated peevishly, "this is your fault, Potter."

Harry sighed and paused, leaning heavily on his mop. "I heard you. Unless you're going to tell me why it's my fault, or better yet get off your arse and start working, I really don't care."

"He thinks the work is good for you. It's all your fault."

Harry said nothing, gritting his teeth and returning to work.

Maybe what Malfoy said was true. Maybe Snape did want to keep him busy.

Or maybe he didn't know what to do with two teenagers in his house. Or thought they owed him something for taking them in. There could be a hundred reasons, and one was as good as another. It didn't matter, as far as Harry was concerned.

"This was supposed to be the best summer of my life, you know," Malfoy said, breaking the long silence.

Harry couldn't help stealing a glance at him. Best summer of his life? He'd always assumed Malfoy had been pampered and petted by his parents, and given anything he wanted.

Malfoy was cleaning again, his hair hanging over his face, hiding it from view. Harry looked away before Malfoy could see him staring.

They worked in silence. When Snape came in, neither one noticed him until he was nearly upon them.

"Dinner will be served in one hour," Snape said, looking around the room disdainfully. "Leave everything. You will have time to finish tomorrow."

Harry exchanged a pained look with Malfoy as they followed Snape out of the room. Malfoy looked too tired to whine about the state of his hands, which Harry could see were covered with even more blisters than the previous day.

They reached the landing, and Malfoy headed upstairs while Harry hesitated, waiting until the door to Malfoy's room had shut before running after Snape.

"Professor, wait!"

Snape turned to look at him, his eyes narrowing. "What is it, Potter?"

Harry stopped in front of him, slightly out of breath from the extra exertion. "You don't have to punish Malfoy. I'll do the work myself, if that's what you want."

"I am not punishing Draco," Snape said, "not that it's any of your business. Draco has a few lessons to learn about the value of hard work. Return to your room."

Snape turned away from him and continued down the stairs, and Harry dragged himself upstairs to wash up and change clothes.

"I don't need you to defend me, Potter."

Harry didn't look up. "Bugger off, Malfoy. Don't you have anything better to do than eavesdrop?"

The door slammed shut. The sound echoed in Harry's head, turning into a dull hammering. It followed him all the way into his own room.

Harry climbed into the old fashioned bathtub and turned on the hot water. He felt odd, like his head was stuffed with cotton. His hands stung, and everything seemed to ache. He hoped he wasn't coming down with anything.

He let the water reach his chin, shut his eyes against the glare from the oil lamps, and waited for the feeling to pass.

He wasn't sure when he became aware of it. It had started as a pounding inside his skull, but at some point he realized it was no longer coming from within his own head.

The pounding became louder and louder. Harry forced open his eyes just in time to see the door fly open.

"Hey!" Harry yelped, scrambling to the edge of the tub and making a grab for a towel. "You can't just barge in here!"

Snape lowered his wand and glared at him.

Harry, now safely covered up, looked around.

The bathroom was a disaster. Water had flooded the floor, soaking the clothing he had left piled on the braided mat.

"What happened?" he asked wearily, though he already had a good idea.

"I was going to ask you the same thing, Potter."

Harry sighed and stepped out of the tub, trying not to trip over the towel. He had to hold on to the edge of the tub. His legs were as heavy as lead. "I must have fallen asleep."

Snape's eyes bore into him, and Harry felt his face grow even hotter.

"I wasn't trying to drown myself, if that's what you think!"

Snape's lip curled in a sneer. "You expect me to believe that?"

"I was tired! I wasn't feeling well..." Harry realized as he said this that the achy feeling was still with him, and that his head reeled simply from the effort of standing upright and keeping his balance.

Snape continued to look unconvinced. "You look perfectly healthy to me."

Harry pursed his lips, refusing to argue with Snape. A lot of good that ever did!

"However," Snape went on after a minute, "if you aren't feeling well you belong in bed. I suggest you take yourself there now."

Harry was so glad to escape that he made no protest. He sloshed through the water and out the door, averting his eyes from Snape as he squeezed past him in the doorway. He could feel Snape watching him the entire time.

Snape wasn't the only one. Harry glimpsed Malfoy through the open door, just before the other boy vanished out of sight.

Great. What kind of spectacle had he made of himself?

He climbed into bed, disregarding his wet hair and the sodden towel he still clutched around himself because he was sure, even without looking, that Snape was still watching him.

Finally, when he was under the covers up to his chin, he dared a glance toward the bathroom door.

Snape was muttering something, his wand moving slowly in a circular motion. Harry assumed he was spelling away the water.

He shut his eyes when Snape relit the lamps. The light hurt even through his eyelids.

He didn't want to talk to Snape, and deal with more accusations. He just wanted to be left alone. Why couldn't Snape understand?

"Potter?"

Harry kept his eyes closed. If he opened them, he knew he would see the dark scowl on Snape's face, and have to listen to him ranting and raving about how stupid and worthless Harry was.

"Potter?"

He knew Snape was waiting for him to open his eyes so he could start yelling at him.

"I know you aren't asleep."

Harry couldn't have lifted his heavy eyelids even if he'd had the will to try.

He wondered why Snape said nothing else. He could feel the man standing over him, silent and angry, and any other time he wouldn't have been able to stand it. Now he didn't care, just as long as Snape didn't start shaking him or make him open his eyes. He kept waiting for Snape to force him awake again. Surely Snape wouldn't just stand there, knowing Harry could hear him perfectly well.

What seemed like hours passed, and then, just as he drifted off into heavy sleep, he thought he heard Snape's footsteps leaving his bedside.