Chapter 12

As he took the Extendible Ear out of his own ear, Harry felt a little guilty about listening in to that last conversation. He also felt a surge of pride in his new guardian—and relief—for how Snape had spoken about him. Moody's words had unsettled him a bit in their grim determination. Snape's were reassuring, not that he would have expected anything less. Snape had never shown anything but confidence.

"Quick! Put them away!" Fred chirped.

All the kids at the top of the stairs hurried to shove the devices into their pockets as quickly as they could. Below, the meeting was letting out. Harry hadn't noticed because he'd already removed the earpiece.

"Damn," George said under his breath.

Harry looked up and saw the reason for George's distress. Snape was coming up the stairs and quickly. Harry leaned against the wall, trying to look nonchalantly as if he was just waiting for his guardian. He figured that it was up to him to greet Snape and cause a diversion.

"Hey," Harry said, not moving from his position.

Okay, not the smoothest greeting. Snape raised his eyebrows all the way to his hairline at the casual greeting. He stopped at the top of the stairs and crossed his arms, casting a glower across the assembled.

"I'm sure you can do better than that, Mr. Prince," Snape drawled. "It is not as if I need to force many brain cells into use to determine what is going on here."

"Nothing, Sir," Harry insisted, standing up and facing his guardian. "We were just waiting for the meeting to get out, is all."

"All? Hmm," Snape mused. "We are going to need to work on convincing lying."

"I don't know what you mean, Sir," Harry said. However, he wondered why he was bothering to continue the charade when next to him, Ron had paled to the point that you could see every freckle on his face.

"Indeed?" Snape's question was followed by the order, "Turn out your pockets."

Harry swallowed. He considered refusing. That would probably get him nowhere. It would just make Snape angry, and he would end up doing it anyway. He pulled out the right pocket of his trousers, which was empty, and then the left, which had the Extendible Ear incriminatingly crumpled within. He removed it and held it out sheepishly.

Snape took the device and then held out his hand to Ron. With a gulp, Ron reached into his pocket and gave Snape his Extendible Ear. Snape repeated the process without a word. Hermione, Fred, and George handed theirs over before Snape put out his hand.

"I am disappointed in all of you for trying this again," Snape said darkly. "These meetings are secure for a reason. Your parents should feel confident that they can have you in the house without you spying on them. As for you," he turned to look at Harry, "we will discuss this later. Go pack your things and wait for me downstairs."

Harry wasted no time following those directions. As he raced to his room, he heard Snape telling the others to go to their rooms and wait for their parents to deal with them. Oddly enough, Harry found himself feeling sad for Hermione. Once again, she was the odd one out. It wasn't that he wished his parents were talking to her instead of Mr. or Mrs. Weasley. He was just acutely aware of what it felt like to be a hanger-on in a family.

He made short work of packing. Harry hadn't really unpacked after all since he had only been there for one night and hadn't expected to be there longer. He still felt a twinge of sadness as he picked up his bag and left the room. While he had wanted to learn about the meeting, he felt awful about having betrayed Snape's trust. He was still trying to decide if it was worth it. On balance, it probably was, even for the little snapshot of the meeting they had heard. Snape may not feel that way, and their relationship was still so new that Harry didn't think he could explain to him his deeply felt need to know what was going on.

By the time he got downstairs, Snape seemed to have alerted the other adults to the fact that every child in the house had spied on the Order of the Phoenix meeting or at least part of it. Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore, and Snape were standing in the foyer near the front door. It was not a group of wizards that Harry wanted to approach, but he wasn't a Gryffindor for no reason.

"Ah, Harry!" Dumbledore said jovially, coming out of the group to greet him as if Harry hadn't just been caught in major misbehavior. "It is good to see you, my boy. How are you getting along?"

Despite the fact that Harry had wanted to test out some new curses on Dumbledore when he had first seen him a few days earlier, he'd had time to calm down some since then. He also didn't think being rude would help his case since Snape was undoubtedly going to murder him in a few minutes. So, he decided to be polite to the headmaster and earn some goodwill.

"Hello, Sir," Harry said evenly. "I am doing better, thanks. Or at least, I am until my Dad gets ahold of me."

Dumbledore clapped Harry on the back gently a couple of times softly with a wizened smile. "Now, now, my boy," he said with a smile, "I am sure it is not as bad as all that."

"Oh, it's pretty bad," Harry said with a grimace at Snape.

He noticed Sirius wink at him, and Remus gave him an encouraging smile, small though it was. Snape just looked at him sternly and gave Dumbledore a mild glare.

"Headmaster, surely you do not encourage spying on Order activities?" Snape snapped.

"Oh, no, Severus," Dumbledore said, putting up a single hand in surrender, "of course not! They are curious, and I am sure that you will show young Harry the error of his ways with grace and appropriately."

Snape grumbled something that Harry could not hear, and he decided he was probably better off. Then Sirius pulled Harry aside and gave him a quick Harry. Harry let him and noticed that Snape didn't seem annoyed.

"You okay, Pup?" Sirius asked.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I was exaggerating. He's good to me. I'll probably be grounded, though. I don't know when you will see me again."

"He can't ground you from me, Pup," Sirius said. "If you want to see me, let me know. Use the mirror. You can also let him know, and I will Apparate in."

"Okay," Harry said. "Thanks."

Snape gestured for Harry to come and held his arm while they walked out. He looked down at Harry, and Harry nodded. It was their signal that Harry was ready to Apparate. With the tell-tale jerk to the naval, they were gone and then appeared in front of Prince Manor.

"Put your bag in your room and meet me in the study," Snape said without preamble.

Harry just nodded. He had come to realize that the study was where Snape had serious talks with him. He knew he was in trouble, so he would have probably gone there even if he hadn't been told. Harry wasted no time putting his bag away and going back downstairs. He wanted to get this over with.

When he returned, he found Snape sitting in his chair, apparently staring off into space. Harry hoped he wasn't calming down his temper before dealing with his misbehaving child. With a small inner sigh, Harry walked in and sat down on the chair in front of the desk, and looked straight at Snape.

"Whose idea was it?" Snape asked.

"Does it matter?" Harry asked.

"Not in the slightest," Snape said, turning to meet Harry's eyes. "I am simply curious."

Harry shrugged. "Why do I need to tell you then? Wouldn't I be getting someone else in trouble if it wasn't me? You caught all of us doing it?"

"No, you wouldn't be because I do not plan to have any more discussions with Arthur or Molly Weasley about this incident," Snape told him sternly. "What I do need to know is whether you are following others blindly again or acting as the instigator."

"Oh," Harry said.

He really hadn't thought of it that way. Snape had been concerned that Harry might do what others suggested or told him to do, especially older people. Harry wasn't sure why this mattered so much to him, but he could see why Snape was concerned if he thought Fred and George influenced him too much.

"It's not like that," Harry insisted.

He knew he was being a little defensive, but he didn't want Snape to think he was being led around by the nose by older or stronger personalities. He was Harry Potter! People looked to him for leadership. He tried to ignore that, but it was true. Snape always insisted it. He wasn't going to let Snape call him a follower now.

"Then tell me how it is," Snape said firmly.

"I wanted to listen in on the meeting," Harry said. "No one tells me anything. Fred and George had told me about the Extendible Ears the first time I was there."

"Nonsense," Snape said.

"What?"

"You heard me," Snape said in the same flat tone. "It is nonsense that you expect me to believe that you were behind this. I do not think you are a sociopath. I know you better than that. You cannot deceive me that well."

Harry stared at him, trying to understand what Snape was trying to say. After a moment, he just looked down. This was harder than he had thought. The truth was, he didn't want to disappoint Snape.

"Sir," Harry began, "I am sorry. I just had to know what Voldemort was doing."

"First of all," Snape said. "Do not call him that. You may call him anything else. Second, are you trying to get me to believe that after the agreement that you and I had, you convinced me to let you be at Grimmauld Place during an Order meeting so that you could eavesdrop on the proceedings?"

"Why can't I call him that?" Harry demanded, sidestepping Snape's question altogether. "Dumbledore does? Fear of the name and all that! I am not afraid of him!"

"If you're not, you're a fool," Snape spat, "and Dumbledore can do as he likes. You are not Dumbledore."

"Why does Dumbledore do it then?" Harry demanded.

"The Dark Lord is afraid of Dumbledore, so there is no risk in the headmaster using the name," Snape explained in a voice that seemed to indicate that he was barely containing his temper.

"He's afraid of me too," Harry said softly.

"He is most certainly not afraid of you," Snape scoffed. "He wants to eliminate you. There is a difference."

"If he wants to eliminate me, that means he is afraid of me!" Harry shouted, standing up.

"Get your temper under control this instant," Snape said in an ice-cold voice. "I will not allow you to speak to me in that tone."

Harry nodded and stood still, clenching and re-clenching his fists to his sides. He took a few deep breaths to get his temper under control. Then he sat down. Snape nodded.

"Why are you training me if he's not afraid of me?" Harry said.

"I am training you to keep you alive should you have to fight again, in the event you are captured or targeted," Snape said slowly and deliberately. His tone made Harry cringe. Snape was well past cross.

Harry nodded, looking down at his hands. "I still think I deserve to know what is going on," he said quietly."

"You have a right to think whatever you want," Snape told him. "What you do not have a right to do is plant bugs in Order meetings."

"I don't just do what other people tell me to, you know," Harry said.

"I know that, Harry," Snape said, his voice gentler now. "That doesn't mean that you aren't vulnerable to being susceptible to bad ideas when they give you what you want."

Harry took a moment to think about that. Maybe that was more or less what had happened. He had wanted to know what was going on since the beginning of the summer, and Fred and George had given him a way to find out. He should have said no, but he didn't. Instead, he had jumped at the chance to listen in on an Order meeting.

"Are you ever going to let me go to an Order meeting?" Harry asked hopefully.

"When you are seventeen, and you have graduated from Hogwarts, you will be able to join," Snape said.

"Aww," Harry whined.

"Those are the membership requirements," Snape said.

"Right," Harry groused.

"Your friends the Weasleys have quite a career ahead of them," Snape said, steepling his fingers, "however, I believe that these," he held up the Extendable Ears, "need some modification. They are too easily tracked."

"You knew we were listening?" Harry asked.

"Of course, I did," Snape said, sounding offended. "I am a spy. Have you forgotten?"

"Why did you let us listen?" Harry asked.

"I signaled the room that there were eavesdroppers. No one was going to say anything that you children should not hear," Snape said smugly.

Harry groaned and sat back in the chair. Not only had they been caught, but they also hadn't even listened in on an actual meeting. It had been a complete waste.

"Wait …" Harry said suddenly. "Did you mean what you said?"

"Of course, I did," Snape said. "That might have been acceptable for your ears, but it was absolutely true."

"Oh," Harry said. He still felt played. "Thanks, Snape."

"Do not thank me too quickly," Snape said smoothly. "There is still the matter of your disobedience to consider."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I figured. How long am I grounded for this time?"

"You are choosing that option?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're still giving me a choice?" Harry said. "I thought that you know, this was bad enough that I wouldn't be given one."

"We are beginning your training tomorrow in earnest," Snape said. "Meaning that we will be spending quite a bit of time on it. You will not have much free time to ground you from, unfortunately. However, when something is limited, taking it away does make it even more onerous."

Harry grimaced. He imagined that he would have hours of rigorous training and homework for the rest of the summer and be locked in his room for the rest. At least Snape wasn't going to starve him or make him do chores on an empty stomach.

"Given your pathetic attempt at espionage, choice one is an essay on infiltration and subterfuge, including the typical methods of creating and detecting disguises, spotting and using eavesdropping, and for lack of a better word, lying and spotting lies—no less than six feet. There are plenty of books here you can use for research. When it is finished, you will be sprung from your sentence. During that time, there will be no broom because there will be no time outside your room other than meals."

Harry gaped at him. That sounded awful. He immediately wondered what the other choice was.

"Choice two is the essay and six with the ruler. I will halve that number if you tell me whose idea this was. You will not be grounded if the essay is complete within one week.

"Wait," Harry said, finally catching on to what was said. "Either way, I have to do the essay?"

"You do," Snape nodded.

"Uh!" Harry said, leaning forward with his head in his hands. "Snape!"

"Yes?" Snape asked.

"Why is it so important that I tell you, anyway?" Harry asked. "Don't you pretty much have it figured out?"

"I want you to tell me," Snape said. "I would like you to trust me, Harry. I would like to think that at some point, we can have an honest discussion about things like this."

Harry was thinking that it was impossible to have a discussion with someone while he was setting evil essays and locking him in his room. As much as Harry didn't want to seem like a coward for not choosing that, he couldn't stand the idea. Harry was relieved that Snape was still kind enough to give him a choice but frustrated that he wanted to be told whose idea the eavesdropping was.

"I'll take the twelve, please," Harry said, gritting his teeth.

Snape looked disappointed but said nothing but, "Very well."

Snape waved his hand and made short work of whacking Harry in the seat of his pants twelve times. While it was hardly pleasant, Harry found that he would rather experience this temporary discomfort than sit in his room for interminable hours. He wondered what other kids would choose, but again, he had no siblings. By the end of the twelve, tears were forming in his eyes. Snape handed him a handkerchief and then hugged him.

"There you are, Son," Snape said gently.

Harry hugged Snape back fiercely and cried silently, not because of the sting in his bottom but because he had disappointed his new parent. Harry was used to pain. He had taken on basilisks and played Quidditch, after all. It was shame and regret that were new.

"Let's have something to eat, and then you can go to bed," Snape said. "I know you had an early dinner."

"I'm really not hungry," Harry said.

"Tea? Hot chocolate?" Snape asked mildly.

"Okay," Harry relented.

Snape snapped his fingers, and a pot of tea and another of hot chocolate appeared, as well as some pastries. Snape poured Harry a hot chocolate and passed it to him, then sat at his desk and poured himself a cup of tea. Harry was plenty capable of pouring his own hot chocolate, but that gesture warmed his heart. The fact that Snape could tan his hide and then give him a sweet drink afterward made him feel oddly comforted. Somehow, Snape was taking care of him when no one else had ever bothered. The Dursleys had only ever tossed him in his cupboard to get him out of their sight, and never because he had actually done anything wrong.

"It's new to me," Harry suddenly blurted out loud.

"What is?" Snape asked, surprised because he wasn't part of Harry's train of thought.

"Someone caring," Harry explained.

"Ah," Snape said. He did not seem to know what to say for a minute. Then he added. "For what it's worth, it is rather new to me to have someone to care for."

Harry gave him a shy smile, finished his chocolate, and went up to bed.

The next morning, Harry was awakened when he sensed someone standing over his bed. He opened an eye to see Snape standing over his bed, looking decidedly un-Snapelike. He was wearing jogging pants, a sweatshirt, and running shoes. Harry couldn't help but stare.

"Get dressed in workout clothes and meet me downstairs in five minutes," he said in a no-nonsense voice. "It's cool outside."

Harry decided to take his cue from Snape and dress accordingly. He wore a gray hoodie over a long-sleeved t-shirt, running shoes, and jogging pants. Harry made it downstairs just in time but did not run on the stairs. He didn't want to start the day by getting into trouble. Snape nodded, but Harry thought he saw a slight smirk as the man turned at Harry's decidedly disheveled appearance. His left shoe wasn't even tied!

Snape led them outside. The road in front of the house gravel and extended for miles as far as Harry could tell. He knew that it led to the groundskeeper's house at least.

"We will begin with a light jog," Snape told him. "We'll do this every morning but increase in length and intensity."

Harry nodded, and they were off. Harry soon found that Snape's idea of a light jog did not match his own. Harry never jogged for exercise or pleasure. He'd never really had to. He ran quite a bit in the summer from Dudley, and during the school year, he got enough exercise playing Quidditch. That sometimes involved running laps.

Occasionally, Snape pointed out mile markers and other landmarks. It was all their land, so it was within the wards. Harry was relieved for that. There was no reason to worry, and they could carry their wands. Harry's was tucked inside his pocket. He was glad he'd remembered it when he was half-awake.

When they had run about as far as Harry felt he could without collapsing, they stopped. Unfortunately, they did not take a nap on the grass, which would have been lovely. Instead, Snape began leading Harry through stretches. Harry had never done half of them, but Snape was very patient with him.

After the stretching, Snape put up a hand and stopped him.

"Conjure a glass," he said.

Harry was so surprised by this request that he almost didn't do it. Then he shrugged and obeyed. He figured Snape would ask him to do all kinds of odd things, and it would be better to just do as he was told. Snape had basically told him he wasn't allowed to question orders. He stared at the glass and thought how nice it would be to fill it with water. To his surprise, it suddenly was.

Harry grimaced and looked at Snape apologetically. "Sorry, Sir," he said. "I'm a bit thirsty."

"Well, go ahead," Snape smirked.

Gratefully, Harry drank. Nothing had ever tasted as good.

"How come?" Harry finally asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Banish it," Snape said.

Harry did so, "Depulso."

"Well done," Snape said. "Who taught you wordless and wandless magic?"

"Oh, the water?" Harry asked. "Um. I don't know how I did that. I was thirsty?"

Snape nodded. "You're a powerful wizard. We will work on wordless and wandless magic as part of your training. You have a history of strong accidental magic. I had a feeling you were capable. You are capable of much more than your school record suggests because you've spent minimal effort on school. You spend most of your time on … extracurricular activities."

Harry looked down. Snape was not wrong. Harry wanted to argue.

"Sometimes, I do things because it seems like no one else is," Harry finally said.

"I understand that, Harry," Snape said. "I have always ridiculed you for it before and spent most of my time chasing after you, trying to keep you from getting killed. Perhaps this year we can work together a bit more, and I won't have to do that?"

Harry nodded, giving Snape a shy smile. He had never looked at it from Snape's perspective before. Snape was always just the annoying pain, getting in his way, threatening him, and yes, saving him quite often."

"Yes, Sir, I can see the benefit of that," Harry said. "I will try to work with you more. And thanks, you know, for saving me."

"Yes," Snape said wryly, "that was kind of me, wasn't it? Now let's have a job back home, have breakfast, and do some sparring. I would like to see where you are in defensive spells."

"Brilliant!" Harry said.

The jog back was more challenging than the jog there because Harry was tired now. He wasn't used to all this running. He had to stop a few times and walk, so it ended up being a walk-jog. Snape was patient. He jogged ahead and jogged back. By the time they got back to the manor, Harry wasn't sure whether he wanted to take a shower, collapse into bed, or eat breakfast.

"You do not have to eat a large breakfast," Snape said, "but at least eat a little of each."

When they got to the table, it had a little of everything alright. There was porridge with honey, fruit, nuts for toppings, other assorted fruits, eggs, and other foods Harry couldn't identify. He hadn't exactly had a healthy upbringing, and Hogwarts tended to serve the same rich foods.

"Yes, Sir," Harry said with a sigh.

Snape slid him a bowl with a few scoops of porridge topped with honey, cottage cheese, fruit, and nuts. It looked so good and seemed such a reasonable amount that Harry immediately tucked in. Snape also gave him a glass of milk. Harry shrugged and drank it down. He'd hardly ever had milk growing up, and it tasted good.

"We will go to Hogwarts this afternoon," Snape told him as soon as he was finished eating, "I want a full medical check-up on you."

Harry was glad Snape had waited because if he'd been told that earlier, it probably would have taken his appetite away. He almost childishly asked if he had to, but he knew how that would go over. He just nodded mutely.

"Harry, look at me," Snape said gently.

Harry looked up to see a sympathetic expression on his guardian's face to match the gentle tone.

"I know that this probably the last thing you want to do," Snape said, "which is why I put it off this long. However, I need to know if there are vitamin deficiencies, illnesses, or anything else that has to be taken care of. You haven't had a physical, ever, as far as I can tell. Your former guardians never gave consent. This is important, Harry, not just for your health but for your training. I can't train you properly without knowing that you are healthy."

"Yes, Sir," Harry said with resignation.

"For what it's worth," Snape continued, "the physical is completely confidential, as is any treatment. If you need supplements, we can take care of them in our quarters or disguise them in your meals. It is not uncommon. Many Hogwarts students are being treated for one thing or another, and they have all had physicals. And Harry," he paused, and Harry met his deep coal-eyed gaze again, "you are not the only child to come from an abusive and neglectful home."

That struck Harry unexpectedly. He had never thought about other kids at Hogwarts having been through what he had. He wrinkled his brow and looked at Snape.

"Because their families hate magic, Muggleborns?" he asked.

"Sometimes, unfortunately," Snape said. "There are many reasons, Harry. The Wizarding world is very traditional. One of the reasons I use corporal punishment with my House is that the families are mostly Pureblood. Most Pureblood and Halfblood families expect it, and the children are used to it and also expect it. I happen to believe that in some cases, it is preferable because it allows the parent and child to move on quicker than some punishments. I also am strongly against shaming of any kind, especially public shaming. Other houses, on the other hand, rely heavily on it. Hufflepuff, for example, uses public shaming. Ravenclaw and Slytherin use more academic and corporal punishment. You seem to prefer it also. I am not opposed to giving you a choice, but that is because of your history of abuse. I am not going soft."

Harry smiled at that last comment, "I didn't think you were, Sir. Believe me, I never thought so."

Snape nodded, "I have not, nor will I, tell you details of specific cases. Nor should you worry that anyone will learn about your specifics. If you somehow learn of the personal details of a student's life, academic, or otherwise, I am sure you will keep it confidential. That is a risk I take having a child as a staff member. It is a standard I hold you to that you will never share privileged information of any kind. I do not think I need to tell you that the consequences would be dire should you do so."

"Of course, Sir!" Harry was affronted. "I would never do that. I know you never would either. I don't expect you to go blabbing in the Slytherin common room or anything." He paused. "I mean, before this, I might have thought … but now, I know better."

"Thank you, Harry," Snape said. "It is a big trust I place in you. Now, shall we spar?"

"You're on, Sir. Can you hold your own?" Harry teased with a big grin.

"I shall try?" Snape said dryly.

They walked to a large room on the top floor that Harry had never seen before. It was completely blank, with light wooden floors. It had windows only at the top to let plenty of light in, but not enough to be distracting or get in their faces.

"Wicked," Harry said. "What are the rules?"

"No rules," Snape said. "I am seeing what you can do. No Unforgiveables. You better not use any, obviously, and I will send any your way."

"Course not!" Harry scoffed. "I'm not mental. You'd … what would you do to me?"

"If you used an Unforgiveable? I think that's a conversation for another time. For now, don't," Snape said firmly.

"Fair enough," Harry agreed.

Harry stood, facing Snape. He felt slightly nervous and slightly excited. After all, he was going to get to spar with a real Death Eater. On the other hand … he was about to spar with an actual Death Eater! Fortunately, this Death Eater was on his side and training him and didn't want to hurt him. Still, it was exciting and unnerving. Harry had to remind himself to start out small and not get cocky. Snape raised an eyebrow as if to ask him what he was waiting for. Harry decided to start small.

"Furnunculus," Harry shouted firmly.

Snape smirked and easily batted the spell off without a word, and they were off.

Harry had a lot of fun sparring with Snape. Snape started off lightly, just blocking what Harry sent his way. Then he sent light curses at Harry and slowly upped the ante until he got to curses that Harry had never seen. He didn't give any suggestions, and Harry found himself bobbing and weaving to get out of the way.

By the time Snape stopped him with a Petrificus Totalus, Harry was exhausted. He had picked up a few new spells, two of which he was filing away to remember for later. Snape released him, and Harry lay flat on his back on the floor, laughing and panting as Snape offered a hand to pull him up.

"That … was … so … much …fun," he panted, "when can we do it again?"

"When you have sufficiently recovered and had your physical," Snape smirked.

Even the mention of a physical did not take the wind out of Harry's sails. He was on a high. He was also battered from landing on just about every part of his body at one part or another.

"Oof," he winced, rubbing his elbow, "that's gonna bruise."

"Yes, well," I have balms for all of those," Snape said. "I am not a Potions master for nothing."

"Neat," Harry said. "So, you can beat me up and then patch me up?"

"You can also leave them, Brat," Snape told him, giving him a gentle cuff on the back of the head with one hand while he waved the lights off with the other.

"Seriously," Harry asked as they went down the stairs, "when do we get to do that again?"

"We will do it regularly," Snape told him, ushering him into his study, "hopefully I will not wipe the floor with you next time."

"Hah!" Harry said, holding out his elbow as Snape rummaged around in a cupboard of salves. "I was holding back."

"You were, hmm," Snape retrieved the bruise balm he was looking for and gently rubbed it over Harry's sweaty elbow. "Where else are you injured?"

"Umm?" Harry thought over his aches and pains. "Everywhere? Seriously, Snape, I landed on my bum like forty times, and you'd already walloped me!"

Snape sighed. "I am not going to just hand you the balm. I need to see. Take your shirt off, please."

Harry considered refusing but then decided that Snape was his parent now, and he might as well get used to obeying. He removed his shirt. There were, indeed, bruises. There was also one scorch mark on his side. He frowned at it.

"Oops, I let that one get by me," He said with a wince.

"Yes, I fully expected you to block it," Snape scolded.

He handed Harry the bruise balm and went to the cabinet to get a burn salve. Harry began applying the cream to the burns, and then Snape applied the ointment to his burn. Harry flinched. It was cold!

"Are you alright?" Snape asked in concern.

"Sorry, Dad," Harry said absentmindedly as he rubbed the bruise balm on his knee.

"It's alright," Snape said; Harry could tell he had not missed what Harry had called him. "Take this upstairs, take a shower, and then apply it to your bottom. I should leave it, then Madam Pomfrey will think my discipline methods with you are as harsh as they are with my Slytherins."

Harry turned to stare at Snape, wondering what he meant by that. He decided not to question if he was serious or not and just took the jar. A shower sounded heavenly.

"Thanks, Dad!" Harry called, trying out the name again.

Harry went upstairs, showered, applied the balm, and dressed. His backside was indeed bruised, but that was from the sparring session and not from Snape's punishment. He hated to think what he would have to do to earn something like that and hoped Snape was joking.

When he went downstairs, he was dragging his feet. He sat at the table, where Snape had lunch ready. Harry stared at the sandwiches and had no desire to eat. He gave Snape a look that was designed to inspire pity but got nowhere, apparently.

"Take a sandwich and some fruit or salad," Snape said in a no-nonsense voice.

Despite the voice, Harry challenged Snape with, "I'm not hungry."

All that got him was a sandwich, and an apple levitated onto his plate and Snape pointing to it with the word, "Eat."

Harry took a small bite of the apple and then a tiny taste of the sandwich. He knew he was being childish. He just didn't want this physical.

"You really wouldn't punish me hard enough to leave bruises, would you?" Harry asked.

"Of course not," Snape said gently, "I apologize if you thought I was serious about that. It would be abusive. While you might earn severe punishments at some point, I will never be abusive. I told you that. In case you are wondering, I do not abuse them either. Discipline is designed to get your attention and should not leave marks."

Harry nodded, relieved.

"Would you cane me?" Harry asked suddenly. "Aunt Marge was always threatening me with the cane, and my relatives told everyone that it was used on me at school all the time. I was supposed to have attended a school for criminals. They never caned me, but Dudley hit me with his Smelting Stick all the time. Merlin, I hated that thing."

"I understand your concern," Snape said," caning is a common punishment in pureblood families. My father was a Muggle and preferred a belt. Let's leave off this discussion, for now, Harry. Hogwarts does not make common use of the cane. It is a highly severe punishment. Please do not do anything where anyone feels like you have earned it."

"I once thought I had," Harry said, "but I was a first year and didn't really know what punishments Hogwarts offered. I kinda thought I'd be caned for anything."

"What did you think they were going to cane you for?" Snape seemed surprised.

"Flying, in my first year, with Malfoy," Harry said with chagrin.

"Oh, yes," Snape said grimly. "You almost gave me a heart attack with that one. I thought you were going to fly straight into the wall. Minerva and I had quite an argument over you joining the Quidditch team in your first year, but she overruled me. She thought I just didn't want Gryffindor to win the Cup. I couldn't have cared less about the Cup. I didn't want you to break your neck!"

Harry couldn't help but smile. At the time, he never would have believed Snape cared about his safety. Now, he was finding it a little easier to believe. Thinking back to his first year was hard, though. Snape had not been kind to him then.

"Well, I'm glad she did," Harry finally said. "Quidditch has really been the only good thing in my life a lot of times."

Snape nodded, and Harry wondered if he understood. After all, he wasn't a Quidditch fan, but he came to all of the games where Slytherin played. Suddenly, Harry felt a dawning horror.

"What will you do?" Harry asked.

"What do you mean?" Snape asked.

"If Slytherin plays Gryffindor?" Harry demanded. "Who will you root for?"

Harry had never had anyone in the stands to root for him except friends. He'd always been a little jealous, and sometimes more than a little, of kids whose parents came all the way to Hogwarts to watch their matches. Since Harry had no parents and never would, he'd never let himself think on it, except maybe to wonder if Sirius might someday come. Now Harry had a parent every day at Hogwarts who couldn't even come to his match. Somehow, the thought made him feel bitter tears in his eyes.

"Harry," Snape said softly, coming around to kneel on the floor so that he was face to face with Harry, "I will always be rooting for you. Always."

That made Harry feel especially warm inside. It was hard to believe that after all these years, someone actually cared about him, personally. He would have someone in the stands. For some reason, that meant a lot to Harry.

"So, eat," Snape repeated.

Harry nodded and took a bigger bite of the sandwich. Snape observed him to make sure that he ate almost everything in front of him, and Harry had much more of an appetite. He didn't want to think about the past anymore.

"If you are finished, we can leave," Snape said when he must have decided Harry had picked more at his food than eaten it.

"Yes, Sir," Harry complied.

Going to the Hogwarts Infirmary for a physical was the last thing he wanted to do. Harry was wondering where the Death Eaters were when he needed them. He followed Snape out to the walk in front of the manor and took his elbow without a fuss. They Apparated to the Hogwarts grounds, and Harry trudged after Snape.

"Dragging your feet isn't going to prevent this, Harry," Snape said firmly, stopping to wait for Harry to catch up. "I have already explained."

"Yes, Sir," Harry said. "I know. I'm sorry for taking so long. I just, you know, don't really want to be poked and prodded."

"You will comply with whatever Madam Pomfrey requests," Snape stated in a familiar no-nonsense manner, "and you will do so politely, with no cheek and no whining."

"Yes, Sir," Harry muttered, deciding not to push it.

They marched on to the castle, or rather Snape marched, and Harry hurried to catch up. Harry felt a little sorry for himself still, so he wasn't really feeling guilty to be in Snape's bad books. It was happening often enough lately. He'd only been Snape's adopted son for a few days, and he'd managed to be in trouble for one thing or another for most of them.

When they got to the Hospital Wing, Snape burst through the double doors like a man on a mission. Harry thought that his entrance was a tad on the dramatic side, but Madam Pomfrey ignored it. She greeted them with a nod and bustled over as soon as she saw them.

"Mr. Potter! Severus! How good to see you both," the medi-witch called out cheerfully.

"Hello, Madam Pomfrey," Harry greeted politely, shooting Snape a look that he hoped showed he could comply with his orders. Snape glowered back.

"Come on over here then, Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, patting a bed in the middle of two long rows.

The wing was empty since it was the middle of summer. The old-fashioned hospital beds were mostly undressed, but as she was expecting them, one was covered in a white sheet. Harry did as he was asked and sat down on the bed. He avoided looking at Snape, knowing that no amount of pitiful pleading expressions would get him out of this.

"Right then," she said. "You will drink this, "she handed him a small cup with a dark liquid in it that Harry couldn't describe the color of," and then I will run some diagnostics with my wand. Won't hurt a bit."

Harry took the cup, grimacing at the smell. If it tasted anything like it smelled, it wasn't going to be pleasant. He drank the Potion in one go and was pleasantly surprised that it didn't taste like much at all.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

"A diagnostic potion," Snape responded. "Let her do her job."

"Lay back now, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said. "It will just take a moment."

Harry sighed and did as he was told. After a few minutes, she began slowly running her wand over him, methodically starting at the tip of his head and continuing all the way to his toes. As she did so, a quill was recording her findings on a parchment. It reminded Harry, too much of the reporter, and he glared at it.

"What is it?" Snape asked, a little more sympathetically.

"Sorry, Sir," Harry said, a little embarrassed. "The quill … it just reminds me of Rita Skeeter. She had a quill like that. It wrote while she interviewed me, but everything it wrote was rubbish. I never said any of those things." He sent a glower Snape's way, remembering the man embarrassing him in Potion's class with a magazine article.

Snape must have realized it because he favored Harry with a crooked grin. "Yes, well, you would do well to keep up with your press clippings now, I daresay," he said with a smirk. "You will like them even less."

"Ugh," Harry said, beating his head against the pillow twice in a futile but overly dramatic gesture. "I know!"

"Mr. Potter!" Madam Pomfrey scolded. "Stay still!"

"I'm sorry, Ma'am," Harry apologized with a sigh, looking at Snape sheepishly.

"This quill is only recording medical data, Harry," Snape told him gently.

Harry nodded, carefully this time, and tried to relax. It seemed like the process was taking a long time. He couldn't see what was on the parchment either, and that made him nervous.

After what seemed like ages, but what was realistically around ten minutes, Madam Pomfrey stopped waving her wand around him. Harry looked up hopefully. He wanted to get out of here and maybe hit the Quidditch pitch. He hadn't been on a broom in ages, and he didn't even care at this point if it was his own.

"Just relax there, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said. "I'll return in a few minutes."

"Can't I go, you know, somewhere?" Harry asked, sitting up.

"Mr. Potter, you are not five years old," Madam Pomfrey scolded.

Snape also gave him a severe look. Harry wasn't sure why he was acting like this either. He supposed it had to do with the fact that he was having a physical, and he didn't want to know the results. He wasn't sure how complete wizard physicals were. He wanted to get out of there.

"You are staying where you are, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said. "You are old enough to hear the results of your own health scan. It is your health, after all. You can help us interpret it as well."

"Can I use the loo then?" Harry asked.

"You may," she said.

Harry shot up. He'd had enough Hospital Wing stays to know where it was after all. He ran to the nearest one and splashed water on his face. He wasn't sure why he was feeling so out of sorts. Harry's entire existence at Hogwarts had been built on keeping his personal life well, personal. He didn't want either of them to know anything about how he'd grown up. Now Snape and Madam Pomfrey were about to learn entirely too much information about him. They would undoubtedly tell Dumbledore and probably Professor McGonagall.

After staring at his reflection in the mirror for long enough, Harry sat back on the edge of a bathtub. He wanted to disappear. Hogwarts was a safe haven from reality, to a certain extent. At least from certain realities. Reality was crashing down on him. He didn't want to face it. While it was true that a madman and his homicidal followers wanted to hunt Harry down and kill him, that had always been a distant truth until very recently. Now he had to cope with Dementors chasing him down, his own family members throwing him out, a new guardian telling him what to do, and … this. It was all becoming too much, too fast.

"Harry?" Snape knocked on the door and called his name in a worried voice.

Apparently, he had been in the loo for a while. Harry groaned. Now they would think he was mental. He went to the door and opened it slowly.

"I'm fine," he said. "Sorry."

"I understand that you are not," Snape said, reaching inside the door and putting a gentle hand on Harry's shoulder. "Whatever that report says, we will face it together."

Harry stared at Snape. That was a completely new concept to him. For his entire life, for as long as he could remember, he had faced everything on his own. He had no memories of his parents, but presumably, they loved him and took care of him. Since they had died, no one had taken over that job.

Without a word, Harry collapsed into Snape's arms, acknowledging his mental and emotional exhaustion. He was utterly spent. From Voldemort to the Dementors to the Dursleys, he had nothing left. If Snape was going to shoulder some of the burdens, he would have to let him. Maybe it was time for Harry to borrow someone else's strength until he could rebuild his own.

Snape gently led him out into the main Hospital Wing, where Madame Pomfrey bustled in to meet them. Harry sat back down on the same bed with a feeling of dread. He wasn't sure what was coming out in that report, but something told him it would be nothing good.

"Very well, Mr. Potter," she said. "I trust you are feeling better?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry said, as calmly as he could manage.

"To start, you are malnourished," she began, "bordering on severely malnourished. You get decent food options here, but whether or not you choose wisely is up to you. This condition, however, is chronic. I will provide you with a supplement over the summer, and you will continue it through at least the first term if I am going to clear you for Quidditch. How in Merlin's name were you allowed to play without a physical?"

"I don't know, Ma'am," Harry said, feeling his face redden. "No one ever said anything, honest."

"Yes, well, from now on, you will need a physical each season, no exceptions," she stated firmly.

"Of course," Snape agreed before Harry could say anything.

"Right, well," Madam Pomfrey seemed unsure how to phrase what she wanted to say. "Do you have an explanation for this? Were you a picky child? Was there hardship in the home?"

Harry stared at his hands, ready to sink right into the floor. He wondered where his accidental magic was when he needed it. He would like to disappear now, thank you very much.

"Mr. Potter has been removed from his former guardians due to neglect, Madam Pomfrey," Snape snapped. "Put two and two together."

"I see," Madam Pomfrey sighed and looked at Harry critically. It didn't seem like pity, though, so he felt comfortable looking all the way back up at her. "Very well, the condition will not continue then."

"It will not," Snape said firmly. "I will ensure that he chooses his food options wisely. If he does not, the choice will not be up to him."

Harry looked at Snape in horror, wondering what that meant. He had images in his mind of the Potions master leaning over him in the Great Hall, scooping food onto his plate. He would die of embarrassment before he made it through the year. Harry could only imagine what Malfoy would do with that.

"Don't look at me like that," Snape said with a smirk, "choose wisely, and you won't have your classmates asking you why food mysteriously pops up on your plate."

"Yes, Sir," Harry said meekly. It wasn't as bad as he'd imagined, but almost. Everyone would know why.

"Next is the issue of untreated injuries," Madam Pomfrey said, "in some cases of … in some cases, we catch these sooner and correct them as they occur when we cannot correct the home situation." She seemed to want to say more but decide against it. "In this case, we caught this quite late. That does not mean it cannot be corrected. It will just be a bit more difficult. We can do it mostly at once, however."

"Untreated injuries," Harry asked, paling against his will.

Snape also looked unhappy about this, and his reaction worried Harry. This process did not seem like it was going to be pleasant. Harry'd not enjoyed the treatment of broken bones even though it was faster by far than the Muggle method. He didn't fancy getting all of his childhood injuries treated at once.

"Snape, really, I'm fine," Harry started to argue.

"If Madam Pomfrey is recommending it, you will do it," Snape decreed. "No arguments."

This deflated Harry considerably, but he wasn't about to disobey Snape when he used that tone.

"What do you recommend?" Snape asked her.

"Well, he's had a fair number of concussions," she said, reading the parchment with a frown, "and there isn't much we can do. Some of them happened at a younger age than I would like to see. I am hoping there are no cognitive deficiencies as a result. So many concussions so young, especially in the toddler years, can result in brain damage."

Snape looked ill, and Harry didn't blame him. He did remember being thrown around a bit when he was little, both by his uncle and his cousin. He'd never known it could cause brain damage.

Harry gulped but finally said, "I'm fine, Ma'am. I'm smart. I just don't apply myself."

"Yes, well, you will from now on," Snape groused. He still seemed disturbed by the news. "What of Quidditch?"

"What?" Harry asked, a little too loudly.

"Do not interrupt!" Snape snapped.

"Sorry," Harry said.

"As long as he is cleared to play, he may," Madam Pomfrey said. "However, given his history, if he has any more head injuries, he might need to be pulled from the team."

"No!" Harry cried. "You can't!"

"That is not your decision," Snape told him sternly. "Your health is more important."

Harry folded his arms and sent them both a fierce scowl. He couldn't believe they were talking about taking Quidditch away from him. There was no way in Hell they were doing that.

"We are not discussing this now," Snape said, "you need to gain muscle mass and improve your nutritional profile before you can play. By the time school starts, you should be fine."

Harry groaned but decided that fighting more was going to do him no good. Snape and Madam Pomfrey were both determined, and he was getting nowhere. He just gave them a sharp nod and looked down.

"Can you reheal the broken bones?" Snape asked.

"Yes," she said. "The procedure for that is to induce a healing sleep state, like a coma, Mr. Potter, and then use Skelegrow and other potions to aid healing. We can do the first part tonight if you like, and then the second part next week if all goes well."

"Very well," Snape said. "That is what we will do then. Come along, Harry. What time do you want us back?"

"This evening is fine," Madam Pomfrey said. "It was good to see you, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you, Ma'am," Harry said.

As soon as they left, Harry turned to Snape, "Do I really have to do this?"

"You heard everything I heard, Harry. Your injuries have not healed correctly. They were not treated. We need to correct that," Snape told him, gently but in a voice that brooked no argument.

"Fine," Harry snapped. "It's not like you care. Just leave off. I am going."

Harry threw up his hands and stomped off down the hallway. He didn't know where he was going, but he wanted to get as far away from the Hospital Wing and Snape as he could. Unfortunately, that did not work out for him. He'd barely gone a few feet when he felt a strong grip on his arm as Snape caught up with him.

"Do not walk away from me," Snape hissed in a voice that made chills run up and down Harry's spine.

Harry stopped immediately. He had well and truly ticked Snape off this time, without really meaning to. He'd been having a rough day and just wanted to leave everything behind. Snape had obviously taken it as defiant and disrespectful.

"I do not care," Snape said, directly into Harry's ear, "what the problem is. I do not care what you want. You do as I say. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded with a gulp, still not trusting himself to talk. Snape had his arm in a death grip. Harry wasn't afraid of him, but he didn't want to push the man either. He was in deep enough.

Letting go of Harry's arm, Snape turned him around so that they were face to face. Snape was taller than Harry, but he could look into the man's eyes well enough. They weren't snapping with anger, but they were definitely serious. Snape tilted his head, making sure he had Harry's complete attention.

"Do. Not. Use. That. Tone."

Harry nodded. He would have agreed to anything to get Snape to stop staring at him that intently. Snape had been angry with him before, but it had never been personal before. It had been a disgruntled teacher to an unruly student. This was definitely different. This was a parent to a son, and Harry had never experienced anything like it before. It cut him to the quick.

"Yes, Sir," he said sincerely. "Sorry."

"You will be," Snape said ominously. "Come."

"Great," Harry muttered under his breath, but not loud enough for Snape to hear. He was already down the hall.

Harry hurried to catch up. He knew where Snape was going, sort of. He had been to the dungeons plenty of times, at least to Potions class, Snape's office, and even on one memorable occasion, to the Slytherin common room. He'd been disguised with Polyjuice then, and he still hoped that Snape never found out.

"You are going to write lines as soon as we get to our quarters," Snape said after a few minutes when Harry had caught up. "Three hundred times, 'I will be polite and respectful and obey what I am told, especially when I am doing it for my own good, and the alternative is a painful and debilitated future.'"

"Uh, okay," Harry said, "I mean, Yes, Sir."

The truth was, he had forgotten the beginning of that sentence by the time Snape got to the end of it. That didn't bother him. He had spent enough time writing lines for Snape to know that the sentence would appear at the top of the first piece of parchment. There was no reason to try to memorize it.

When they finally got down to the dungeons, Snape led Harry through a maze of corridors he'd never been down until they came to a nondescript door where he made a movement with his wand and then said, 'asphodel,' clearly enough for Harry to hear.

"I will set the door to recognize you," he said. "I expect the password is easy enough for you to remember?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry said with a slight shake of his head. Snape sure had a weird sense of humor.

"Come," Snape said when he must have decided Harry was inclined to linger.

Harry slunk inside. He wasn't used to teachers' quarters. Snape's were a bit like he'd expect and nothing like it at the same time. They were all earth tones with comfortable fabrics. There was a dark green leather sofa that was so big it took up almost one wall, with a black and green afghan over it. Predictably, the room was full of bookshelves. It was also, unexpectedly, floor to ceiling full of art. Every surface that didn't have a book had a painting, a piece of pottery, or some other form of art.

"Whoa," Harry said, walking over to a metal sculpture on the small four-person dining table. It was intricate and looked sort of like people or serpents, and Harry had no idea which it was.

"Yes, that is quite extraordinary, isn't it?" Snape said, in a tone, Harry had never heard him use. He'd best describe it as blissful appreciation. "A former student made that for me."

"Wow," Harry said. "A Hogwarts student made that?"

"Yes. He gave it to me the day he graduated."

Harry stared at it for a moment and then looked around the room. There was so much art, in every nook and cranny and wall space, that it seemed like he couldn't take it all in.

"This room is … just amazing, Sir," Harry finally said. "Where did you get it all?"

"Oh, here and there, over the years," Snape said wistfully. He crooked a finger and led Harry over to a portrait-sized oil painting of a lily in a place of honor over the fireplace. "Do you know who painted this one?"

Harry walked over to it. Somehow, he felt a connection to it instantly, even though it was just oil on canvas, in a gilded frame. He felt tears brush his cheeks unbidden.

"Mum?" Harry whispered?

Snape nodded, "She gave that to me for Christmas, our third year. She was immensely talented in many things. They say when a witch or wizard makes a piece of art, part of the person's essence is transmitted into the work. Not like a portrait, but different. Do you feel it?"

He didn't have to ask. Harry was sure he already knew. Snape reached out and squeezed his shoulder gently and then left Harry alone with the painting.