A few weeks later the morning dawned bright and early. Much too early. Harry sat up in bed, rubbing some of the sleep from his eyes as he tried to remember why there was an ominous pit in his stomach.

His usually perky green eyes, now dull and void of the exuberance he had once been marked for, rested on a set of robes laid out for him. There was also a charcoal grey turtleneck, black slacks, and a pair of boots laid out beside them. He stared at them curiously before noticing a piece of parchment rolled up and tied with a green ribbon. Picking it up he glanced up and down the long hospital ward, wondering if this was some kind of joke.

Get dressed, and report to my quarters at 9 o'clock sharp. Your other belongings have already been delivered. The password is 'devil's snare'.

Professor S. Snape

Harry froze. Snape. That's what he had wanted to remember, or rather, didn't want to remember. Ignoring the impending sense of dread he felt growing in his stomach he hurriedly got dressed and after a full check up with Madam Pomfrey, started for the dungeon.

Boots clicking on the stone floor of the dungeon corridor, Harry absently brushed a lock of dark hair from his eyes and hoped he wasn't lost. Stopping at a few pictures where the occupants looked slightly truthful he got the gist of what direction he was going and glancing at his watch felt his stomach to a flip flop. It was five after nine. Quickening his pace he found a large painting of Salazar Slytherin, looking none to pleased to see him.

"You're late" he stated disdainfully.

"No! Really?" he growled sarcastically, not about to waste more time talking to a portrait he snarled the password and entered.

Entering a large rectangular room he noted a hallway on his right, and a singular door on his left. Light was peeking from under the door on his left and he watched it for moment before scrutinizing the rest of the room. A welcoming fire was directly across from him two high back green chairs sat facing the hearth and a book lay open on the small table in-between them. No silver trinkets whirred or buzzed here like in the Headmasters office, instead there were rows upon rows of books.

Great, small, old or new they lined the walls collectively. Some were green or black while others were brown and white. He stared at them for some time before crossing the room and picking up the book that lay open on the table. Sitting on one of the high back chairs he began skimming the pages.

"Your late, stand up" Harry jumped at the sound of Snape's voice coming from behind him, but obediently he stood, replacing the book on the stand.

"I'm sorry, I've never been down here before, sir"

"Your room is the third on the left, the bathroom is right across from it. Breakfast, lunch and dinner will all take place in the Great Hall as usual, do not enter that (he motioned to the solitary room) room without me there. You will inform me when you go outside, you will not go to Hogsmead without a responsible adult, lights out at ten" Harry listened and when he finished he decided to play dumb and raised his hand.

"Would that be 'A.M.' or 'P.M.', professor?"

Snape glared at his innocent face before turning on his heels and storming out of the room. "P.M., Mister Potter" he growled from down the hall. Composing his face he followed suit, wondering if he would like his new room.

It wasn't grand, slightly shabby, a visible layer of dust on everything. But it would have to be home. He unconsciously shivered. Living with Snape, this was going to be grand. After unpacking his trunk of what little belongings he had he sat on the edge of his bed which had been furnished with black, green, and silver trimmings, and thought about how dismal his summer was turning out to be.

Snape stayed as far from the room as possible for the duration of the morning, and that was fine with Harry. He cracked open a few of his books and attempted catching up on his reading and homework, before finally collapsing on his bed, bored out of his mind and terribly tired. Snape awoke him a few hours later, his cold voice reminding him that lunch was in half and hour.

Not feeling very hungry and wanting to avoid human company for as long as possible, Harry skipped lunch and wandered the empty corridors alone. He met Peeves a few times, but it seemed Peeves wasn't in his usual poltergeist mood when there weren't hundreds of students to torment. Dodging a few half-heartedly thrown pieces of chalk, Harry ducked through a class room door and hid while he listened to Peeves' cackling die away.

Standing up stiffly, he looked around what he thought had been an abandoned class room. Upon closer inspection he noticed rows upon rows of books. The smell was that of ancient scrolls and parchment, yet he could smell something else. It was faint, but it held his attention until finally giving up, he turned back to the books. As he walked along each row he realized how very much like the library it was.

Randomly picking out a leather bound book that looked to be centuries older than the four founders themselves, Harry settled down onto a high back chair by the window. Flipping randomly through the pages he skimmed through diagrams, sketches and charts. A potions diary. Mildly interested he read through a few paragraphs until he noticed that each potion was something in the process of being created. Whoever had written the journal, had discovered the very potions it spoke of. Turning the book over he glanced at the bottom of the cover and almost dropped the book in surprise.

Salazar Slytherin

Finding the place where he had found the book, he picked up another and looked at the back cover.

Salazar Slytherin

Putting both books back in their places he picked up a few others and looked at their authors.

S. Slytherin…Salazar Slytherin…Salazar Slytherin

Replacing these books as well, Harry chose a random isle on the other side of the room and picked up the first book he laid eyes on. Flipping it over he stared at it dumb struck.

Godric Griffindor

After picking up a few other books that read the same author he replaced them as well, turning down yet another isle. Picking up yet another couple books he looked at the back cover.

Helga Huffelpuff

Turning down the last isle he picked up thin brown book, sending a cloud of dust floating in the air.

Rowina Ravenclaw

Not bothering to check any of the other books in the isle he decidedly pinched himself, immediately regretting it. While rubbing his, now bruised, arm Harry retreated to one of the isles he had a vague idea contained some of Godric's writings.

Quite a few, to his utter delight, contained maps of various secret passages. Complete with passwords. Thumbing through a great number of the dusty texts while sitting in an extraordinarily comfortable chair, Harry glanced through bleary eyes at his watch nearly falling out the chair in surprise. The time was eleven o'clock.

Merlin, I've been here for hours! Snape's going to murder me! And then as an afterthought added, but he'll have to wait in line…Hastily returning each of the books, he flicked off the light switch and dashed out the door, not bothering to check if it was locked properly.

Skidding to a halt before crashing into Snapes' door, various ribs voicing their protests in the form of pain, Harry mentally berated himself for not keeping up with the time. Knowing there would most likely be various wards on the door he whispered the password and gritting his teeth turned the handle.

Creak

The door opened painfully slow, the rusty hinges no doubt waking everyone within five hundred miles. Cringing at the sound he mentally thanked every known wizard and god on earth that he was thin as a twig, while slipping through the barely opened door. Closing the door, he noted with relief that the hearth had long since been put out, and no light was peeking from under any of the closed doors.

"It's a bit early for a midnight snack yet to late for an evening stroll" a familiar, cold voice drawled from one of the high back chairs. Halfway to his room, Harry froze in place his heart hammering. Slowly he turned around, dreading what he would find, but already knowing what he would face.

*~*~*~*~*

hermione green- yes I know, bit of a nasty shocker eh? Never thought it was possible, Snape, of all people, being wrong!

Jaded Angel 8- thanks

Athena kitty- * sigh * so many questions… * evil grin *

Emiepatapouf- * sniffle sniffle * whoah did I just show emotion? Intentionally!!! I must be ill…

Ennui2- thanks!

Byproduct of evil- hello again! So you liked it? * grin *

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read my other stuff…please? Even if you e-mail me, telling me it's the worst stuff you've ever read, hey, at least you read it eh? * winkwink *