Chapter 13

It turned out that writing lines when Snape was Harry's guardian was as tedious as writing lines when Snape was his teacher. Harry didn't complain. At least he hadn't been told to clean cauldrons. It was summer, after all. There probably weren't any.

After he finally finished, he stood up and stretched. It had been a really tough day, and he wasn't looked forward to the night. He looked around this weird room and walked down the hallway to find Snape in his private Potions lab. On the way, he passed two open doors. One was a large WC, nice but all in shades of dark green. The other was clearly his new bedroom.

Harry walked into the room, curious. It had a four-poster bed like the one in his dorm, but without the curtains. The room wasn't as large as the one in Prince Manor, but it was much larger than Dudley's second bedroom, given to him begrudgingly by the Dursleys after his Hogwarts letter came addressed to the 'Cupboard Under the Stairs' that had been Harry's bedroom for his entire childhood.

"Wow," Harry breathed, looking out the window.

The window was clearly enchanted because it showed a view of the Quidditch pitch. Harry realized that Snape must have asked himself what Harry would like to look out at, and that was what he'd come up with. Harry collapsed onto the bed, which was covered with a thick, velvety duvet that was so soft it was like touching feathers. Harry fell onto it and felt the tell-tale warmth of threatened tears at the back of his eyes again. He didn't understand why he was so emotional lately. If he wasn't shouting in anger, he was falling over, ready to cry.

"Done with your lines, I presume," Snape said mildly from the doorway.

Harry quickly brushed the tears from his eyes, even though none seemed to have really come. He sat up and looked at Snape, who had that neutral expression on his face again. Harry pulled a smile as best he could.

"Yes, Sir," he said. "They're on the table."

"Neat?" Snape asked.

Harry nodded, standing up to follow Snape out of the room. His guardian remained in the doorway, however. Harry looked up at him in confusion.

"How do you like your room?" Snape asked.

"It's brilliant, Sir?" Harry said with genuine enthusiasm. "The window …"

"Yes, I thought you'd like that," the end of Snape's mouth quirked up in a smile. "It can be charmed to most any image you like, sort of like a camera image."

"I like this one," Harry grinned.

"We'll leave it then," Snape said. "I have supplied just the basics for now." He gestured around the room. "You have a wardrobe, desk, bed, and bookshelf. Let me know what else you need. We will keep a supply of clothing here as well as some uniforms so that when you need to sleep down here, you will not need to pack."

"Are you thinking I will be in trouble that much?" Harry teased.

"It will not just be when you are in trouble that you sleep down here," Snape told him with a slight frown. "If you are ill, for example, or if you need a break from the Tower. Sometimes I might have you down here for reasons of security."

"Security?" Harry balked. "For how long?"

"It is a hypothetical suggestion, Harry," Snape said mildly. "As always, your safety is the utmost consideration."

"Yes, Sir," Harry replied resignedly.

He secretly hoped Snape wouldn't decide that he had to sleep here every night. It was fantastic to have a room of his own in the crowded castle. Still, Harry enjoyed the camaraderie of the dorm. He wasn't in a hurry to give that up—unless his classmates turned on him again like they had during the tournament.

"We'll have dinner in an hour," Snape said, effectively changing the subject, to Harry's relief. "You may spend the time until then as you wish. What would you like to do?"

"Can I go fly?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Your broom is not here."

"I can borrow a school broom," Harry suggested.

Snape seemed to consider this. "I don't want you out there unsupervised," he finally said.

"You could supervise me. Please, Sir. I haven't flown in forever," Harry begged. "You're going to torture me tonight, after all."

Snape frowned. "First of all, I am not going to torture you. It is a necessary medical procedure. And second of all …." Snape stopped. It might have been the expression on Harry's face as Harry had felt the chances of a broom flight slipping away and felt more and more dejected. "All right. We will go borrow a broom from the Slytherin cupboard. One hour!"

"Thanks, Dad!" Harry cried.

He would have jumped for joy if he wasn't going to be fifteen soon. He needed to have a certain amount of dignity after all. He settled for hugging Snape quickly and running for the door.

After so long without having been on a broom, it felt good to good in the air. It was just a slow, jerky school broom, but it was better than nothing, so Harry hardly cared. He was hardly going to complain about not having his Firebolt when Snape was nice enough to supervise him. He had a feeling that the man felt bad about making Harry undergo the arduous medical procedure, necessary or not.

"Time to go in," Snape called, using a Sonorous charm.

Harry wished he hadn't, so he could have pretended he didn't hear. He chose not to dawdle. Snape was being pretty brilliant.

They took the broom back to the Slytherin cupboard and then went to the Great Hall. There were few teachers there, and the meal was served on one long table in the middle of the room. Harry sat at one end, and Snape sat across from him. The only other people there were Filch and Madam Trelawney, who tried to engage Snape in a discussion about tea leaves. He answered politely, but Harry thought he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

After dinner, Harry trudged after Snape to the hospital wing. He knew there was a limit to the amount of dragging Snape would accept, but it was the last place Harry wanted to be. By the time they arrived, Harry had followed his guardian through the double doors, resigned to his fate, and leaned against the wall while the two adults talked. He briefly considered making a run for it but walked away from Snape hadn't gone over well earlier, and he imagined that twice in one day would not be a good idea.

"All right then, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey said, "Up you get."

She looked pointedly at one of the beds, the last one in the row. It was completely made up this time and had curtains halfway around it. Hospital pajamas were folded neatly on the pillows. Harry looked at Snape in desperate, pleading with his expression.

"You will obey Madam Pomfrey, Harry," Snape said firmly, "or you will answer to me."

"Yes, Sir," Harry replied in resignation.

As Harry took the pajamas, closed the curtain, and began to change, he could hear the adults talking but not what they said. He supposed he was being childish. There was no way out of this now. He also remembered that Madam Pomfrey had suggested he would probably have to do this twice. The thought made Harry shudder. He didn't like the idea of losing control, and the magical equivalent of a medically induced coma did not sit well with him.

After he changed, Harry set his clothes on the chair, opened the curtain, and sat on the bed with a frown on his face. He would do as he was told, but he didn't have to like it. He sat there and waited.

"Lose the attitude," Snape snapped.

Although he didn't want to be in more trouble, Harry didn't think Snape jumping all over him was fair at all. Instead of responding, however, Snape wanted him to, Harry glowered at his guardian and folded his arms. When Snape came closer, Harry snapped back.

"I don't see what you're on about," Harry said. "I'm the one who has to do it!"

"That's enough," Snape told him in a low, dangerous voice, inches from Harry's face. "There is no reason for you to be so difficult about this. You will start cooperating now, or I will give you an incentive to do so."

Harry looked past him at Madam Pomfrey and felt his face get hot. The medi-witch was busily getting a silver tray of potions ready that already seemed to be prepared, apparently trying to give them some privacy. That just made Harry angrier.

"I do not care who is watching," Snape told him, "If you don't want anyone to witness your correction, then you should not misbehave with witnesses."

In response to that, Harry glowered more. He could only hope he was perfecting his expressions from Snape. He did, however, scoot back on the bed to get out of range.

"Leave me alone," Harry muttered. "You know I don't want to be here."

"That is enough out of you," Snape said, reaching up to snap the curtain closed, despite what he had said earlier about witnesses. Harry thought he might have cast a privacy spell for sound too, but he couldn't be sure. It was fast. "I don't know why you think that you can act this way without consequences but let me dispel you of that notion right now. I don't know what is wrong with you, but I have been very tolerant .…."

"No!" Harry interrupted, seeing where this was going. Tears starting to spring to his eyes, and he hated himself for it. He felt like a baby, and it made him even more frustrated. He ignored them.

"What?" Snape demanded.

Before Snape could continue, Harry cut him off again, "You haven't been tolerant, not really! You just spring this on me, and I don't get a say! I hate medical stuff … I really don't know what is going on, and I don't know what it will be like … and I'm all mixed up about it, and I don't know why I'm so upset and why I'm acting this way … even crying!" Harry thrust the back of his hand over both eyes at once to brush away the tears roughly. "I never cry, ever. I can't even remember crying when I was little, and I had plenty of reason to. I learned to never cry; trust me. And now, you're going to wallop me for being rude or insolent, or disrespectful or whatever, because … well, never mind." Harry paused and looked up and Snape's surprised face. "But you've been … tolerant, I mean. You already punished me once today."

For a few moments, there was silence, and Harry hung his head, embarrassed by his outburst. Really, he was behaving like a sodding toddler, and he was both ashamed and humiliated. Snape hadn't even been his guardian for long, and even though their relationship had improved, Snape would have ridiculed him to no end for behavior like this previously. Part of him still expected that.

"Okay," Snape said softly, "I understand. Perhaps we should have talked more about the procedure you were to undergo. I was trying to avoid talking about it to take your mind off of it, but that was clearly the wrong thing to do. Harry, look at me."

He waited until Harry obeyed him.

Snape continued, "You have to remember that I am new at this as well. I handled this badly, and for that, I apologize. I am trying to do right by you. Sometimes I tend to approach things dutifully and without full attention to your emotional needs. I have not … I have cut that part of myself off a bit for quite some time. You will need to take me to task for it sometimes, I suppose." He gave Harry a wry smile.

Harry returned the smile, "Yeah, I guess I did."

"You did," Snape said, and you are not in trouble for that. Or for your behavior earlier. I will not, as you said, wallop you. For the record, I was not going to unless you became particularly belligerent. I try to leave that as a last resort, as you know."

Harry nodded; not sure he would agree. After all, he had been in Snape's custody for a few days and had already experienced the man's had a few times. He decided not to argue the point. He wasn't sure what Snape meant by 'belligerent,' and there had been fireworks and trips to Knockturn Alley involved in his previous encounters with Snape's firmer discipline.

"As for the procedure," Snape continued, "Let's discuss that now. What are your concerns or fears?"

"I'm not afraid," Harry protested. "I just don't want to. I don't like being out of control. What if something goes wrong?"

"There's no choice, Harry," Snape said calmly. "The procedures have to be done. However, you will be closely monitored. Madam Pomfrey and I will both be here. There are spells to measure your vitals and progress. You won't feel a thing."

That made Harry feel a bit better. "Hang on. You'll be here? The whole time?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," Snape assured him. "I wouldn't leave."

That was quite a new concept to Harry. He couldn't imagine anyone staying by his bedside when he wasn't awake, especially the entire time. He stared at Snape, dumbfounded.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Because you are my child," Snape said simply as if that answered the question.

Harry looked at him. Snape's expression seemed to say that the question was answered, but Harry was having difficulty accepting that anyone would care about him that much—especially when that someone was Snape. He considered telling Snape not to.

"Thanks," Harry said.

"There is no reason to thank me," Snape said softly, "I wouldn't consider anything else."

With that, Snape opened the curtains with a wave of this hand. Harry sighed and lay back on the bed. Madam Pomfrey bustled over. She set the tray on the table by his bed.

"All right then, Mr. Potter?" she asked.

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, blushing, "I'm sorry. I promise to cooperate."

"Of course, Mr. Potter," Madam Pomfrey gave him a knowing smile and patted his leg gently. "Now, here is a schedule of potions. You are going to take these now. During the night, we will have to spell some of them into your stomach. There might be some alterations, of course, but your guardian will remain here. So he will, of course, consent to anything unexpected as needed."

"What do you mean, unexpected?" Harry asked uneasily.

"Do you trust me, Harry?" Snape asked quietly.

Harry turned to look at his guardian.

"Yes, Sir, of course," he said finally.

"Then do not worry," Snape said gently. "You will come to no harm."

Harry nodded. He still felt nervous, but he was starting to just want to get this over with too. He sat up.

"Let's give it a go then; which one first?" Harry asked.

There were so many potions that Harry wasn't sure how he would get them all down. They also didn't tell him what each one was for, but Harry decided he preferred it that way. He was starting to get sleepy by the fifth or sixth potion. Soon, he was barely aware that Snape was helping him lay down and covering him with the white hospital bed covers.

When Harry opened his groggy eyes the next morning, it was to see Snape leaning over him, apparently checking to see if he was awake. He felt instantly relieved to be alive, even though he was overcome with a sense of achiness as his first realization after remembering where he was. The hospital wing was full of bright sunlight, telling him it was well into the morning.

"Hello, there, Sleepyhead!" Madam Pomfrey greeted Harry from the other side of the bed, "How do you feel?"

"Alright, I guess," Harry croaked. His throat felt dry.

Snape handed him a glass full of water and helped him sit up. Harry took it gratefully and didn't even begrudge the man for the help. His head felt a little funny too.

"How'd it go?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Everything went swimmingly," Madam Pomfrey informed him, "you are right on track for the next round. We have it scheduled for next week."

"Brilliant," Harry muttered sarcastically under his breath. Then he took another sip of water without looking at either of them.

"Now, then, none of that," Snape scolded lightly. "You will see that there is nothing to worry about. You've survived it, at any right."

"That remains to be seen," Harry said with a small cough, handing the glass back. "But I will cooperate, after all."

"Yes, you will," Snape said firmly.

Harry just nodded miserably and laid back down. He had just woken up, and all he wanted to do was go back to bed. He gave Snape a desperate look.

"You can rest for a little while, Mr. Potter, but breakfast is a good idea," Madam Pomfrey said.

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry said.

Snape walked off, apparently to consult with the medi-witch. Harry closed his eyes and must have drifted off. When he opened them again, Snape was standing over him with a tray.

"Sit up, please, Harry," he said. "Do you need assistance?"

"No, Sir," Harry said. "I think I can do it."

Harry gingerly sat up, and Snape placed the tray in his lap. It had a bowl of porridge with honey, nuts, and fruit. There was also a glass of milk and a small bowl of sliced peaches. Harry looked at the tray and then at Snape. He really didn't feel like eating.

"Please do your best to eat a little, Harry," Snape told him gently. "Take a few bites and let your appetite kick in."

"Yes, Sir," Harry said. "I will."

Snape nodded and then sat in a chair at Harry's bedside with a book. He didn't open it yet but instead looked pointedly at Harry until a few spoonfuls of porridge had been eaten. Then, he began reading. Harry was relieved that Snape wasn't going to stare at him like a circus act but understood that he had to eat in order to be given that privilege.

Fortunately, once he started eating, it did get easier. Harry was able to eat about half the tray. Then he sighed and pushed it away. He felt well past full but not sick. Harry looked cautiously at Snape. He still wasn't used to having someone hovering over him. His guardian gave the tray an appraising look and then nodded. With a wave of his hand, it was gone.

"Do you feel up to walking?" Snape asked.

"I think so," Harry replied cautiously.

He was able to walk to the loo on his own, take a shower, and get dressed in clean clothes that Snape had waiting for him. The man seemed to think of everything. It could be unnerving at times but also a relief. Harry didn't feel like thinking right now. When he returned, Snape was standing with Madam Pomfrey.

"We will take the Floo to our quarters," Snape told him.

Harry nodded. This would be interesting. He wasn't used to Flooing from one place to another within the castle. Snape went first, saying "Snape's Quarters," and then Harry followed, saying the same words. He managed to go through without much incident, if you count almost falling on his face. Snape seemed to expect it and caught him on the other side without a word.

"You are still somewhat weak," he said. "Let's have you sit on the couch for a while. I will find you a book to read."

Not having a problem with that, Harry walked to the couch and sank into it. The leather was supple and soft, and Harry felt like he could stay there forever. He didn't know if Snape returned with the book or not because without meaning to, he felt himself falling asleep again.

When he woke up, it was to Snape gently shaking him. He groaned and opened one eye. Snape smirked at him.

"If I let you sleep any more, you won't sleep tonight," Snape said. "At any rate, it's time for lunch, and I daresay you've skipped enough meals."

"Okay, I'm getting up," Harry groused. He threw his legs over the side of the couch, stretched, and yawned. "Sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It's alright," Snape said. "I think the procedure took a lot out of you. You had quite a few bones to reknit and other … injuries to right."

"Like what?" Harry asked, not sure he wanted to know.

He followed Snape to the table. Snape's quarters weren't large, but everything had its place, and it didn't seem overcrowded. There was a table that could seat four next to a kitchenette-type area. It had a marble cooking surface, an old-fashioned cookstove, and dark wooden cupboards. There was no refrigerator, but Harry was used to that in wizard kitchens and knew that some of the cupboards were charmed to keep food cold. Everything looked old but in good repair, as with everything at Hogwarts.

"Do you cook?" Harry asked when they sat at the table.

There were two bowls of soup and a plate of sandwiches there already and the glass of milk for Harry and coffee for Snape. The sandwiches were various cold cuts, some with cheese and some without. Harry found himself hungry for once and grabbed a couple.

"I do, occasionally," Snape replied, helping himself to a few sandwiches as well, "I usually do not bother."

"I can cook, you know," Harry informed him after taking a bite of a ham and cheese sandwich.

"Can you?" Snape asked, showing neither surprise nor a lack of it.

"Sure, I've been cooking since I could reach the stove. Probably before then," Harry shrugged. It wasn't a part of his childhood he was embarrassed about, nor one he usually shared, but if he could be helpful to Snape, he felt the man should know.

"Do you enjoy cooking?" Snape asked pointedly.

Harry thought about that for a minute. "I don't mind, I guess. It feels good when people compliment me." He made a face. "Not that the Dursleys ever did. Sometimes though, I'd cook for Aunt Petunia's club meeting, and they'd compliment the cooking. I'm sure they thought she did it, but I was in the kitchen, and I heard it. It felt I don't know like I did something right."

"Who taught you to cook?" Snape asked, not commenting on what Harry had said.

"My aunt enrolled me in a kid's cooking class when I was six. It was for older kids, but they let me stay. She convinced them I was a prodigy or something, I dunno. I also got books out of the library. I got in trouble if I burned things or things didn't turn out right," Harry paused, not wanted to remember too much about his miserable childhood. "Sometimes I tried to make things they didn't like, so there'd be food left over, and I could have some. They caught on tough. So, I stopped doing that."

There was no talking for a few minutes. Harry finished his soup and the sandwiches, even though they now tasted dry in his mouth. He finished everything on his plate because the reminder of so many meals he hadn't had made him not want to leave anything uneaten, even if he was full.

"You know that the way they treated you was unacceptable," Snape said quietly after the silence became unbearable.

"Yes, Sir," Harry whispered.

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

Harry looked at him. He saw that Snape's coal-black eyes had a haunted, hollow look. He swallowed but met Snape's gaze.

"It was unacceptable, Harry," Snape repeated. "You did nothing to deserve that."

Harry nodded. He wasn't sure what to say in the face of Snape's fervor. It wasn't the first time this had come up, after all. Snape was even forcing him into therapy sessions for it.

Snape nodded one stiff nod. Then he ran his hand over his face, and Harry found himself wondering if he was causing Snape too much frustration. He wished he hadn't brought up the subject of cooking.

"Are you feeling better?" Snape asked suddenly.

"Sure," Harry said. "I mean … Yes, Sir. Much better."

"Can you name something you enjoy that you can do sitting down?" Snape asked.

Harry stared at the man. He realized that Snape was entirely serious. He considered for a minute arguing that he was sitting down when he flew a broom but figured that argument wouldn't work. Snape was making an effort, after all.

"Well," Harry said, "I am rubbish at chess. Do you think you could teach me to play better?"

Snape gave Harry an incredulous look. "Chess? That's what you want to do?"

"If you don't want to …" Harry started to say.

"Oh, no, Mr. Prince," Snape said in mock snideness. "You are not getting out of this one so easily."

With one hand, he vanished the remains of their lunch, and a chess set appeared. The pieces were made of green and black marble, and the board was carved on some kind of elaborate dark wood. It was definitely the most fantastic chess set Harry had ever seen.

"Alas, it is a Muggle chess set," Snape said.

"It's brilliant," Harry breathed.

"I find that when learning to play chess, a Muggle set is better," Snape said, "I would rather for you to develop your own strategy first. Then you can work with your pieces and have them get to know you. When you are learning, the pieces will try to order you around and give you advice, and they will only confuse you."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I got a set of Wizard Chess pieces in the Christmas crackers first year, and all they ever do is yell at me."

Snape smiled, "Wizard Chess pieces will do that, when they think you don't know what you are doing."

"I don't," Harry said. "I don't play often. I never learned until Hogwarts. Ron's outstanding. He beat McGonagall's giant set first year."

"Yes, I know," Snape said dryly, "You all almost gave me a heart attack with that too."

"Humph," Harry said, "Hermione was the one that beat yours. The riddle with the potions."

"She was clever," Snape sighed, "but you should have left that alone."

"Ah, come on, Snape," Harry complained, "you're not going to scold me for something I did when I was eleven, are you?"

"I sat by your hospital bed for almost three days, Harry," Snape informed him.

"You did?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"I did," Snape said with a nod. "Of course, I made sure to be long gone by the time you were awake. It would have been hard to explain why the teacher who hated you was there."

"Why were you?" Harry said.

"I had sworn to protect you," Snape said simply. "I thought you were going to die. I thought I had failed."

Harry looked down at his hands. It was hard, now, to think back to those events so long ago. He had been so sure. Up until he found Quirrell in the chamber with the mirror, he had thought Snape was the villain in his eleven-year-old fantasy.

"Suppose we were pretty foolish," he said quietly.

"It was not all your fault, Harry," Snape said. "A lot of what you said during your … tantrum at Grimmauld Place was true. The adults in your life had let you down. You knew nothing but independence and not the good kind. You thought that adults could be neither trusted nor depended on. I certainly did not give you any reason to trust me. None of us did. You are not to blame for any of it."

Harry nodded. There was no way to go back and change anything, to do it over again. Things had happened the way they had.

"So," Harry said, looking up at Snape with a cheeky grin, "Shall we play?"

Nobody had really taught Harry how to play chess before. Ron had tried, but he seemed to understand the game intuitively and therefore wasn't the best teacher. Hermione had also given it a go, but she didn't have the time or patience. Harry also hadn't spent much time on it. Snape said that the game was good for learning strategy and should devote a couple of evenings a week to Harry learning it. Harry enjoyed it, even though in the three games they played, Snape wiped the floor with him despite trying to teach him to win.

After the games, they ate dinner, and Harry went to bed early despite his nap. He was tired already. It was going to be his first time sleeping in his new bedroom in their Hogwarts quarters. He got dressed and used the WC, which was basically his to use because Snape had his own. Then he climbed into bed. The bed was softer and more comfortable than his bed in the dorm, or maybe it was because he had his own room.

"Are you ready for bed?" Snape asked from the doorway.

"Yes, Sir," Harry said. "This room really is brilliant."

"I'm glad you like it," Snape said. "We can go shopping tomorrow in Hogsmeade if you like, to personalize it a little."

Harry paused. "You don't have to do all this for me, you know," he finally said.

"It's your room, Harry, "Snape said. "Don't you want to put some of your personality into it?"

"Well," Harry said. "I guess. Sure, that'd be nice."

"You can change the colors too if you want, of course," Snape said. "Those are just based on what you have at home."

Harry looked around. The room was all shades of blue. It was a nice break from the red and gold of the Gryffindor dorms.

"This is good," he said.

"Very well," Snape said smoothly. "Let me know if you change your mind. It's easy enough to alter. If you have trouble sleeping, tell me. My room is at the end of the hall. Knock before you enter, please."

"Yes, Sir," Harry said.

As Snape left, he realized that they were in much closer proximity here than at the manor, where there were basically four floors, and Snape left on a different floor than he did. Here, Snape was just down the hall and not a floor up. Even his lab was just a few doors away. It felt a little strange to Harry. He had just been getting used to one setup, and here came a completely new one.

Despite his earlier exhaustion, Harry found himself unable to fall asleep. After laying in bed for what seemed like hours, he stood up, turned on a lamp next to his bed, and explored his room. There wasn't much in it yet, but it was spacious and comfortable. Harry could imagine keeping all kinds of things here that he didn't want to keep in his dorm—as long as he found a way to hide them from Snape.

When he was done exploring the room, he crept out into the hallway. He went down it, but not to the end. The room next to his seemed to be Snape's study or library. A low-level light came on when he walked in. It about the size of Harry's room, but it was full of bookshelves. There was a large desk in the middle of the room. Some of the shelves contained yet more artwork, some of it a little grisly. Harry wondered if this was more gifts from students or acquisitions from Snape's travels. He could see why the man didn't have it out in the main room. One piece looked like a skull made of marble with a knife through the eye.

"Igh," Harry said.

He moved on, giving Snape's room a wide berth. The door was closed. There was a door next to it. Harry opened it carefully, but it proved to be a linen cupboard. The one next to it was Snape's lab. Harry knew that even opening that door would get him in big trouble. His hand rested on the doorknob for a few minutes as he considered his chances. He might go in and look around, and Snape would never know.

Harry took a few steps back as if the doorknob had bitten him. He didn't know what he had been thinking! Of course, Snape would know! The man knew everything. Harry had yet done very few things he hadn't been caught for. He kept walking. There was a door next to the lab. His curiosity got the better of him, and he opened that one. It turned out to be a Potions store. Harry closed the door quickly. Opening that door would get him into as much trouble as the lab.

Continuing to the kitchen, the lights turned on. Harry shaded his eyes. He hadn't expected that much brightness. The next thing he knew, Harry was opening the cupboards to see what was in them. Some had Potions, herbs, biscuits, and bread, and a couple charmed cool that held cold cuts and a few other foodstuffs. Harry suddenly felt hungry. He grabbed some cold cuts, a block of cheese, and some crackers. He was just beginning to wonder if this would get him in trouble when he heard a sound behind him.

"I thought you went to bed," Snape said evenly.

Harry froze. With the Dursleys, he had been in the habit of getting up at night to make himself food because it was often the only time he ate. If he ever got caught, however, there would be hell to pay. Harry turned around slowly.

"Well, are you going to share?" Snape asked.

"Sure," Harry said, aware his voice was shaking slightly.

Snape came up behind him, and Harry flinched. He didn't mean to, but he did. The Dursleys were most violent at night. Snape made no notice of it. He just walked behind Harry, grabbed a tray, and put it on the counter next to him.

Harry decided to also act like this was perfectly normal since Snape hadn't said anything yet. He cut the cold cuts and cheese into neat squares, and his hands began to shake less and less as he did so. By the time he had everything on the tray, Snape had a pot of some delicious-smelling tea and two cups on the table as well.

"Thank you," Snape said gently, making himself a little sandwich out of the crackers.

They ate quietly for a few minutes. Harry found himself relaxing. The tea probably helped. It was some kind of sweet herbal blend. He was starting to realize that Snape knew his teas as well as his Potions.

"I'm sorry," Harry said finally, in a voice so close to a whisper he wasn't sure if Snape even heard him.

"For making yourself a snack?" Snape asked. "You needn't apologize for that, Harry. I would have shown you where everything is, but you were rehabilitating today." He smirked. "It looks like you found it anyway. I will make sure to give you a more thorough tour of the kitchen at home."

Harry nodded. "I should have asked," he said. "I should have asked what I could and couldn't do before I helped myself to your food."

"Harry," Snape put his hand out gently, over the top of one of Harry's. "For the most part, what's mine is yours. I think I've made that clear. There are certain things you are not allowed to touch and places you are not allowed to go, but it is for matters of safety—for example, the lab. I also do not want you in the Potions store because there are volatile ingredients and potions. It is the door right there." He pointed. "You are welcome to most anything in the kitchen. My study is another matter. There are books in there that you should not touch, and private papers, and, well, alcohol. Should I find you in the alcohol when you are supposed to be in bed, you and I will be having a much different conversation."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that, Sir," Harry said with a grin.

"Otherwise, I will make sure that there are foods here that are to your liking so that you can come here for snacks after classes," Snape continued. "You are welcome here any time. If I am not here and need to communicate with me, you can leave me a note. You can come to my office to find me as well, of course. I will make sure you have my schedule. But this is your home, Harry, during the school year. Make yourself comfortable."

Harry let this sink in. He realized that maybe he could get used to that. He had always been more comfortable at Hogwarts than anywhere else.

"What if I want to come down here after curfew?" Harry asked.

Snape nodded, "I had considered that. I know you have a habit of wandering the halls after curfew. You could use the Floo, but I don't want to set a precedent that you have special privileges. I will instead have the Floo in a classroom near your Tower connected to our quarters."

"You're giving me Floo powder?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I do not want you wandering the Slytherin corridors, Harry," Snape said. "I will show you some shortcuts to reduce the risks. Needless to say, the consequences will be severe if I find out that you misused this privilege. The Floo in The Gryffindor Common Room is not connected to the Floo Network for travel."

"I know, Sir," Harry said. "And I won't. Abuse it, I mean."

"See that you don't," Snape said. "At any rate, I don't imagine you will need to come down here after hours. It is more of an emergency precaution. The alternate route is the one you will usually use."

"Is it a shortcut to the Potions classroom?" Harry asked hopefully.

"It is not," Snape said.

"Oh," Harry said.

"Are you tired yet?" Snape asked. "Is there any particular reason you could not sleep? You were hungry?"

"At first, I just couldn't sleep," Harry said. "Just thinking, I guess. Then I got curious. I looked around the kitchen and got hungry."

"That's fine," Snape said. "I would rather you make yourself a snack than calling the elves at this time of night. They are usually busier at night, especially during the school year."

"Are you sure I have to continue for the rest of the treatment?" Harry asked as they stood up.

Snape waved a hand, and the remains of their snack disappeared. He raised an eyebrow, then gently guided Harry down the hallway. When they got to Harry's room, Snape stayed in the doorway while Harry climbed into bed.

"I imagine that the second day will go easier than the first," Snape said.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"You know what to expect now," Snape assured him. "Also, we have taken care of the lion's share. There is not much left."

Harry nodded, pulling up the covers and laying down. He wished he could be convinced, but he didn't want to think about it either. Apparently, there was no getting out of it.

"Can we eat at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow?" Harry asked with a yawn.

"I do not see why not," Snape said. "If that is what you'd like to do."

"Yeah," Harry said. "I never got to go to Hogsmeade in my third year, and well, my fourth year was kind of a mess. Hopefully, this year will be better."

Snape said nothing but remained to look at Harry from the doorway. "I share that hope for you, Harry," he said quietly. Unfortunately, you have not had a normal childhood."

"You've got that right," Harry agreed.

"Try to get some rest," Snape said. "If you aren't asleep soon, I will help you. It's not meant as a threat. I just don't want you up all night. You need your rest."

"I think I can sleep, Sir," Harry said tiredly. "The tea helped. Did you spike it with something?"

"Just chamomile, Harry," Snape said with a chuckle.

Fortunately, this time Harry was able to fall asleep. If Snape did come back in to see if he did, he never knew it. By the time he woke up again, it was morning.

When Harry felt himself waking, it was a complete contrast to the day before. He felt utterly energized. For some reason, he felt like bounding out of bed, racing to the WC, and taking a refreshing shower. He got dressed and ran to the kitchen, where Snape had coffee and scones.

"Good morning, Sir!" Harry greeted him brightly.

"Good morning to you too," Snape said, apparently noting the change in Harry's mood. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Um … can I have ham and eggs?" Harry asked.

Snape nodded, and the meal appeared in front of Harry with a glass of milk. Harry grinned and started eating. Snape just shook his head. Apparently, he'd already had his breakfast.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Harry asked, halfway through his meal.

"You are still recovering," Snape told him. "I thought it best to let you wake naturally."

That made sense to Harry, so he just finished eating at a somewhat slower pace. The food tasted great, and he had a better appetite than usual. He was relieved to be able to eat whatever he wanted and however much he wanted.

"How come you always give me milk?" Harry asked.

It wasn't a complaint. He was just curious. Harry had never had milk growing up, but occasionally drank it at Hogwarts if it was in front of him. He wasn't a picky eater, having grown up with a scarcity of food.

"I am trying to rebuild calcium and Vitamin A and D," Snape told him. "During your meals, we are also putting other vitamins in the milk. You will not be able to taste them."

"Oh," Harry said. "Okay."

"Before school starts, you and I will sit down and review the typical Hogwarts menu, and I will teach you how to choose well-balanced meals," Snape said. "You have not been taught this. Perhaps at school?"

"No, Sir," Harry said.

"Very well," Snape said. "It is crucial. You must also eat the meal, and all of it or most of it. That is non-negotiable. If anyone gives you any grief, blame me. Tell them I gave you a physical, and it is a qualification for continued performance on the Quidditch team."

"Yes, Sir," Harry said. "Is it?"

"It is a requirement for being allowed to serve yourself," Snape said. "If you don't, meals will be prepared for you. I am sure you don't want that."

"No, Sir," Harry shook his head quickly. He couldn't imagine the embarrassment. "Not at all."

"I am not trying to make your life difficult, Harry," Snape said. "I am trying to get you healthy and keep you that way."

Harry nodded. "When do we get to go to Hogsmeade?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Are you finished eating?" Snape said.

"Yes, Sir!"

"Then, now, I suppose."

"All right!"

Harry was excited, and he wasn't even sure why. He had wanted to avoid shopping in Diagon Alley with Snape but didn't seem to care about going to Hogsmeade with him. In fact, he was looking forward to it. The lack of clothes needed could be one reason, he supposed.

"Are we going to use disguises?" Harry asked.

"No," Snape said. "People in Hogsmeade are used to seeing me. For today, I can just be escorting you."

"Oh," Harry suddenly felt deflated. "Do you have to pretend to hate me then?"

"I don't think so," Snape said. "Not unless we run into specific people. I will signal you if that need arises."

"Signal me how?" Harry asked.

"You will know," Snape said simply.

Harry gulped. Then he decided that he was going to need to get used to subterfuge. Snape had said so, after all. This was going to be his first test.

They walked to Hogsmeade in companionable silence. Harry was having an exceptionally good time. The sun was shining, and it was a clear, luscious day. He felt like nothing could go wrong.

When they arrived at the picturesque little town, Harry turned to Snape expectantly. Snape just turned the look back to him. So, it would be up to Harry to decide where to go. This would be more fun than he expected.

"Let's go to the bookstore," Harry said, almost not believing the words had come out of his mouth.

Still, his new room had empty bookshelves, and he was ready to learn about curses and counter-curses to defend himself. It was time to fill those shelves. They walked into Tomes and Scrolls, and Harry immediately went to the Defense section. Snape followed.

"I have quite a few books," he said, "but you will need some of your own to mark up. Would you like suggestions, or would you just like me to tell you if you are allowed to have them?"

"Suggestions, please!" Harry said.

Snape helped him go through the stacks, and before long, Harry came away with, Defending You and Yours, A Curse for Every Reason, and Charms for Defending. Then Snape sent him over to the young adult section and told him to find some 'light reading' with a grimace on his face. Harry found a couple of novels about Aurors and wizard sleuths that looked fun, and one about a Quidditch star.

"Ready?" Snape asked. He had two books in his arms, so apparently, he had found something too.

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

They purchased the books and had them sent to Hogwarts. Then Snape took Harry into a textile store and had him choose a new rug, duvet, and some fluffy towels. These two were sent to the castle. Finally, Snape led him down a few narrow streets to a shop he'd never been to. It turned out to be a one-person art studio.

"I'm sure you'd like to fill your rooms with Quidditch posters and Gryffindor flags," Snape told him, "but every young man should start an art collection at some time. I'd like you to choose at least one piece. This is Alastair Batie. He was a student of mine some years ago and has managed to develop a name for himself."

"Ah, now, Professor," Batie turned bright red, "I'd hardly say that. I am gettin' there, though. Gettin' there!"

Harry nodded and began looking around. He saw immediately why Snape had taken him here. About half of the pieces were sculptures or paintings of dragons. There were all different kinds, including one Harry well recognized.

"Is that …" Harry pointed to a painting that was about three feet wide and two feet tall of a gorgeous, not-deadly-at-all-looking dragon.

"Yep," Batie looked at it in loving awe. "Ain't she a beaut?"

"Well, up close …." Harry started to say, but he couldn't argue.

The dragon had been beautiful, even when he had been looking at her and worried that she was going to eat him or burn him to death. In the painting, the Hungarian Horntail's black scales seemed to glisten as they had in real life, and the yellow eyes seemed to glow. He almost shuddered at the bronze spikes on its back and tail, but he was also drawn in.

"This is the one I fought," Harry said. "How did you get this close to it?"

"Oh well," Batie looked a little chagrined, "I am good friends with Hagrid, you see, and he pulled a few strings. I've always been good with dragons."

"Do you like the painting?" Snape asked.

"I do," Harry said, partly wondering if he was mental for wanting to immortalize what had been both one of the best and one of the worst days of his life.

"We'll take it," Snape said, shaking Batie's hand firmly. "Good luck to you."

"Thank you again, Professor, for all you have done," Batie said earnestly.

As Harry continued wandering around the gallery looking at the other pictures of the dragons, he wondered just what Snape had done for Beatie, not to mention his other Slytherins. He didn't have much time to wonder. Suddenly, he heard Snape use a tone of voice he hadn't heard in a while.

"Potter! Get away from there! What do you think you're doing?" Snape barked.

Harry jumped back, wondering what had caused the sudden change. He hadn't been touching anything or doing anything. He turned around quickly. Snape was glaring at him with a familiar hatred. When he looked behind him, he saw why.

There, in the doorway, were Draco and Lucius Malfoy.