Chapter 14

Harry's first impulse was to throw himself at Lucius Malfoy. He knew this was a bad idea. For one thing, they were in public, and Batie would probably think he was crazy, as the papers said he was. He also doubted such an action would win him any favors from Snape. So, he settled for glowering at both of the newcomers.

"Hello, Severus," Lucius Malfoy said in a voice that probably passed for polite in his circles. "I see you have been saddled with the unfortunate duty of escorting … students today."

The tone of voice in which he said the word 'students' implied that he was using the word as a euphemism for something terribly unpleasant. The look on his face confirmed it, with his lip curling around the word and his eyes snapping with hatred and resentment in his pale face. He placed a hand firmly on his son's shoulder as if to protect Draco.

"Unfortunately," Snape drawled, sending Harry a look of pure derision. "Dumbledore doesn't seem to understand the concept of holidays, and Potter, as you know, has no family."

Harry turned his glare from Malfoy to Snape, but he realized that those words were a kind of code to him. Up until very recently, they would have been true. Now, though, Harry did have a family. It was standing right in front of him. Snape was finding a way to remind him, subtly and in a way that only Harry would understand.

"Yeah, Potter's an orphan, Dad," Draco snorted. "No one there to take him school shopping, so he has the Headmaster has to order a teacher to do it."

"Now, now, Draco," Lucius said, his voice a mock light scold, "and how many times have I told you that not everyone is as fortunate as we are?"

Draco smirked at Harry, and Harry unconsciously made his hands into fists. He wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk off of Draco's pale face. Between remembering Lucius in the graveyard and watching Draco now, it was a toss-up who Harry wanted to jump first.

"Yes, well, it has been a pleasure to see you again, Lucius," Snape said quickly, interrupted Harry's thoughts, "but I really must get back. I don't want to be here longer than necessary."

"Of course, Severus," Lucius said, stepping back with a nod to allow them to pass, "you'll have to stop by the Manor one of these evenings for dinner. Narcissa would have my head if I didn't invite you."

"Certainly," Snape agreed, inclining his head infinitesimally as he grabbed Harry's arm and went out the door.

"See you at school, Potter," Draco drawled.

"Uh, sure, Malfoy," Harry said. "Looking forward to it."

They walked quickly through the crooked side streets back to the main street. Snape was walking just ahead, so Harry could not see his face. He wasn't sure if his guardian was mad or not. He considered stopping him but decided that if he was angry, he didn't want to inspire a showdown.

Snape walked into the Three Broomsticks and to a booth in the back corner. Harry sat down across him. When they were settled, Harry finally had the nerve to look into his guardian's eyes. He was relieved that Snape didn't seem angry. Of course, with Snape, he was finding, it could be hard to tell.

"Am I in trouble?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Should you be?" Snape asked mildly.

"I probably could have handled that better," Harry admitted.

"How so?" Snape asked as if Harry was describing a potion that had gone bad.

Harry sighed. "I think my temper was obvious. I almost lost it back there. I just remembered the graveyard and Malfoy being there, with … Him. I wanted to make him pay, which is stupid. I don't know how you do it. Spy, I mean. Play a role. I hate them. I hate all of them!"

Despite the vehemence of his speech, Harry had said it all in quite undertones. He was pretty sure that Snape had cast a privacy spell. After all, this was a sensitive conversation, and Snape seemed to always do that in public, probably out of habit. Still, Harry felt anger deep inside him at having seen Lucius Malfoy, and he didn't want it to take hold.

Snape looked at him calmly for a moment and then nodded. "Your feelings are understandable, and you should acknowledge them. It will be difficult to be in the same room with any of them and with their children. You will have to do it, though. We are at war, and it is a war that is not being fought on a battlefield only. You will also learn that anywhere can become a battlefield at any time."

"Like an art shop?" Harry asked.

"Possibly," Snape said. "It is in everyone's best interest to avoid casualties where they can be avoided. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry said. "Don't start a fight unless it's necessary."

"Yes, and be ready when one is inevitable," Snape agreed. "Today, it wasn't."

Harry nodded. The waiter came, and Harry ordered shepherd's pie while Snape ordered some kind of vegetable stir fry and pasta dish. Snape allowed Harry to have pumpkin juice, which at this point was a rate treat.

"You did well today, Harry," Snape said once the food had arrived. "Both in following cues and in maintaining your temper. We will practice more situations of subterfuge, but an impromptu need will arise on many occasions."

"Did you know it would today?" Harry asked, taking a bite. The food was delicious, and he was finally coming off the adrenaline high of earlier.

"I knew that it was possible," Snape said. "It is always possible. However, it is safer here than Diagon Alley. However, because of that, it is the reason we might run into some people like the Malfoys."

"Are you saying they came here because they didn't want to run into anyone?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Can you think of reasons why that might be?" Snape asked, giving Harry a pointed look.

"Well," Harry said, "I think neither side is too happy with him right now. He barely got out of Azkaban, right? He bribed his way out, I guess. Then He would be less happy because Malfoy pretended to be under Imperius. Did he get punished for that? Never mind, of course, he did." Harry shuddered. He hated feeling sorry for Lucius Malfoy. "Hey, did he really invite you over for dinner? Are you gonna go?"

"I am a social acquaintance of the Malfoys," Snape said, apparently deciding not to comment on how Lucius Malfoy had avoided Azkaban, "and it would be rude not to go."

Harry made a face. "I am glad they don't know about me," he said."

Snape responded to that with a smirk. "Yes, you would undoubtedly not find the experience pleasurable. I should introduce you to Pureblood dining, though. Eventually, you will be invited to formal meals."

Harry leaned over, dramatically feigning death. "Spare me, please, Sir!"

"It's part of your inheritance, Harry. I deliberately left it out when I adopted you," Snape told him, the corner of his mouth quirked up.

They ate the rest of the meal in companionable silence. Harry was able to eat about two-thirds of it, which was a lot for him. He wasn't used to eating this much rich food, especially in the summer. Snape seemed pleased and didn't bother asking Harry if he wanted pudding when the waiter came over.

"Is there anywhere else you'd like to go?" Snape asked Harry ask they exited the pub. "Honeydukes, for instance?"

"Are you joking?" Harry asked with a grin. "Can I get some sweets as presents for my friends the next time I visit?"

"I think that would be amenable," Snape said. "Do not buy the place out, please. Molly Weasley can be unpleasant when angered."

Harry just laughed. It was great that Snape could joke with him and was taking him to get candy for his friends. He practically ran to the sweet shop and bought some ice mice, chocolate frogs, sugar quills, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, and a new candy he hadn't seen before called Mystic Magic that turned your tongue colors at random intervals with random flavors.

By the time they returned to Hogwarts, Harry was feeling tired in a good way. His purchases were all in his room, and he felt calm and satisfied as he put them away. Even though he loved his room at the Manor, he hadn't really done anything to personalize it. He wasn't sure how much time he'd really be spending in either room since he slept in Gryffindor Tower during the entire school year.

"Are you done?" Snape asked.

"Yes, Sir," Harry said.

Snape nodded. "Let's return to the Manor then. You can take anything with you that you'd like to, of course. Would you like to bring a book?"

"Um … yeah!"

Harry went back into his room and got his new Quidditch book and the one on defense charms. Then he followed Snape back through their quarters and through the castle. He was beginning to feel more comfortable in the dungeons, but then, they weren't full of Slytherins either. During the school year, it would be another story.

"When are you going to show me the secret passage?" Harry asked.

"It's not so much a secret passage as a shortcut," Snape told him. "We will be back here again before you start school. There is plenty of time."

"Okay," Harry said. "You really are going to be nicer to me?"

"I will treat you like any other student," Snape said. "Do not expect special treatment."

"I've always gotten special treatment," Harry reminded him. "Just not the good kind."

Snape nodded as if conceding the point. "I will treat you fairly. Have you considered what you will want to be called?"

Harry blanched at that. He supposed that it would be weird if everyone had to get used to calling him something else. On the other hand, it would be nice to have a reminder that he had a father now. He had tried out the 'D' word a couple of times, but it still felt weird.

"I guess I will still go by 'Potter' for now, at least at school. I don't want to make an issue of it. There are enough reasons for people to point me out as it is," Harry said.

"That is true," Snape said. "It is entirely up to you, however."

"So, you will still call me 'Potter' in class then?" Harry said.

"I do not call my students by their first names," Snape said mildly.

"Yeah, I guess," Harry said. "Can you try not to say it like …. Well, like you used to?"

"Like what?" Snape asked although Harry knew he knew what Harry meant.

"Like you're spitting it out because you can't stand the taste of it," Harry said with a smirk.

"Of course, Mr. Potter," Snape said judiciously.

Harry smiled. "That's better, Professor," he teased. "Wait, so are you going to be nicer to the Gryffindors now since you don't have to be a spy?"

"As long as they don't behave like Gryffindors," Snape said stonily.

"Hey!" Harry cried. "What does that mean?"

"You know very well what I mean," Snape deadpanned.

"Fine," Harry conceded. "You have to start taking points from Slytherin, though, when they act like Slytherins!"

Snape grunted. "I will start taking points from the Slytherins when the other staff members start giving points to them," he said darkly.

Harry pondered that for a while as they left the castle's heavy double doors and walked out past the anti-Apparition wards. Although he hadn't really thought about it, Snape did have a point. The other teachers and staff members were far more likely to question a Slytherin's motives than the other Houses and maybe less likely to award points for triumphs.

"Huh," Harry said when the realization hit him.

"Indeed," Snape agreed, putting his arm out for Harry to take.

Harry did so, and they were whisked away to Prince Manor. It was a funny feeling, but Harry realized that he felt the sensation of coming home. He had never felt that way before, except maybe when coming back to Hogwarts each year. The castle hadn't been as friendly lately, though.

As soon as they walked through the front door, Snape turned to Harry and asked, "How far have you gotten on your homework?"

The answer to that question was obviously written on Harry's face because Snape did not wait for a verbal response. He simply pointed to Harry's room. Harry sighed and went up to get his homework. Halfway up the stairs, he stopped.

"Can I work in the library?" he asked.

"I don't see why not, assuming you are working diligently," Snape agreed. "I will want to see it as soon as you have finished your essay. I will check it over for you."

Even though he wanted to argue that it wasn't necessary, Snape had gotten three years of assignments from Harry that looked like they'd been scribbled on the train on the way to Hogwarts. That was close enough to the truth. Since he didn't have a leg to stand on, Harry trudged up the stairs.

As tempting as it was to choose the shortest assignment, he decided to get Transfiguration out of the way first. It was the most challenging assignment other than Potions, which Harry was not going to do until he was forced to. He had a feeling that Snape was going to make him redo that one a half-dozen times, at least.

Working in the library turned out to be pleasant, if somewhat distracting. Harry was secretly glad not to have his schoolbooks locked away for the summer. Having his wand with him felt great too. He always felt vulnerable without it. The Dursleys could try to pretend he wasn't there or wasn't a wizard during the summer, but he still was, and not having his wand was one of the worst parts of being there. Not only did he have it here, but he was also allowed to use it. Harry hadn't expected that to happen until he turned seventeen.

Two hours later, after a few false starts and some erasing spells that made Harry indeed relieved to have his wand, he stood up and stretched. Snape was bent over his desk, scratching away at a piece of parchment, and Harry didn't want to disturb him, so he looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows for a while. The grounds were gorgeous, and he hoped that Snape would let him use his broom now that he'd completed one of his essays, or at least a draft.

"Finished?" Harry heard Snape ask.

"Oh," Harry pulled himself out of his reverie, "Yes, Sir."

He brought the essay to Snape and then sat in the chair across the desk from him, trying not to fidget as it was read. There were years of ruthless and cruel comments left on his Potions essays running through his head. Every once in a while, Snape was making marks. He didn't seem to be splattering every inch of the page with ink, at least. That had to be a good sign.

"It is passable for a first draft," Snape finally said. "You need to research your argument further and include further evidence in paragraphs three, five, and six. Your conclusion is weak and seems rushed, and there are thirteen errors in either spelling, grammar, or syntax."

"Okay," Harry said. "Um, thanks. Do I have to fix it now, or can I … do something else first?

"Something else?" Snape asked. "Such as what?"

"I dunno, like go flying?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Absolutely not," Snape said. "I am assuming that none of your other homework is farther along than this?"

Harry shook his head. He had done nothing else, but he wasn't about to admit it out loud. The essay in Snape's hand was the full extent of his efforts.

"As I thought," Snape said. "If you correct this paper and your second attempt is acceptable and contains no more than half as many errors, I will allow you to go flying tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Harry all but whined.

"That is an offer that can still be revoked," Snape said sternly. "Take it or leave it."

"Yes, Sir," Harry said quickly. "Thank you."

"Get to work then," Snape said. "You will find books to help you in the library. If you need help finding them, let me know."

Getting dejectedly to his feet, Harry went back into the library. He looked for books that would help him explain why trans-species Transfiguration was less complicated than human Transfiguration. Eventually, he found a book on each, and each book had an explanation in the introduction. He was barely done reading by dinner time.

At dinner, Harry was starting to feel the effects of too much schoolwork. He was getting restless, and sitting down to eat was the last thing he wanted to do. He was getting tired of Snape always telling him what to eat, how much to eat, and when to eat. No one had ever spent this much time caring about what he did before.

"What does it matter?" Harry snapped, a little too loudly to be polite, when Snape sent a pointed look at the vegetable platter to indicate Harry hadn't taken a big enough serving.

"Do not take that tone with me," Snape told him in a low and firm voice, "I made it quite clear to you how important proper nutrition is. You are already taking vitamin potions to make up for your anemia and vitamin deficiencies. Do you want me to serve you your portions like a toddler?"

No, Harry did not want that! He also did not want Snape to be constantly telling him what to do either. He sat back in his chair with such force that the back chair legs thudded. Harry ignored it, crossing his arms.

Snape looked at him coolly, unimpressed. "You are refusing to eat?"

"I'm just tired of you telling me what to do!" Harry said, slightly too loudly.

"I see," Snape said. "I am not sure where you got the idea that it would be any different."

"What?" Harry asked.

Snape was still acting calm, but Harry could tell he was annoyed. Harry just wanted to leave the table and exit this conversation too. He wasn't sure why he'd started it, but it was going nowhere good.

"Perhaps you need a nap," Snape said, "or, in the case of the time, an early bedtime. Your behavior seems to indicate you are overtired. The medical procedure must still be …."

"No," Harry interrupted. "I'm not. Tired, I mean."

"Oh, I think you are," Snape said firmly. "You are also belligerent. Neither your tone nor your behavior is appropriate, and you well know it. Now, you have two options. You can take a meal supplement potion, since you seem unable to sit through dinner and behave, and go to bed this instant, or you can accompany to the study where we will address your behavior a different way. Then you will take the Potion and go to bed. Which will it be?"

Harry glared at Snape. Those did not seem like good options. He optioned his mouth, about to say that he didn't need to go to bed or take the stupid Potion. Then, somewhere his brain must have caught up with him. This was likely because Snape was already standing up. He had summoned the Potion from somewhere and handed it to Harry with a look on his face that brooked no defiance. Harry reached out and took it.

"Thank you, Harry," Snape said in a much gentler voice. "I appreciate that choice rather than the second one. I prefer not to have to disciple you over this."

Harry just nodded and allowed Snape to gently guide him out of the chair and up the stairs. Before he knew it, he was in his room, and Snape had changed his clothes into pajamas and put him to bed. As his guardian was pulling the soft, fluffing duvet up to Harry's chin, he realized he was relieved to be in bed. He was exhausted.

"Thanks, Dad," he said, hardly aware he was talking.

"You're welcome, Son," Snape said, gently brushing his hair. "Wake up in a better mood."

The next day, Harry woke up in the morning with a feeling of embarrassment as soon as he remembered what had happened the night before. He had behaved childishly, and Snape had been lenient with him as far as he was concerned. He didn't want to tell his guardian the real reason he was so tired was that he never slept through the night without terrible nightmares. He showered slowly, got dressed, and went downstairs. Snape was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper.

"So, does it say that I've robbed Gringotts or something?" Harry joked, sliding into the chair across from Snape.

"Good morning, Harry," Snape said with a smile. "It does not, but it implies that you are hiding from the wizarding public and seeing a psychiatrist."

"Hmm," Harry said, reaching for a muffin from the middle of the table, "How do they know that I'm seeing a psychiatrist if I'm in hiding?"

"Good question," Snape agreed. "What would you like for breakfast?"

"Pancakes?" Harry asked experimentally.

"That is fine, as long as you have them with fruit instead of slathered in syrup," Snape said.

Harry didn't mind that at all, especially since Snape allowed him generous amounts of cream to go with his sliced peaches, strawberries, and blueberries. The breakfast was so delicious that Harry had no trouble finishing it.

"If you are feeling better, perhaps you can finish your essay now?" Snape asked.

"Yep," Harry said easily.

He wasn't going to give Snape any grief after the debacle last night where Harry had turned dinner into a battle of wills. He sat down and wrote steadily for an hour and then presented the essay to Snape. He ardently hoped that it would meet the requirements for a broom ride.

"Very well," Snape said, handing the parchment back to Harry with significantly fewer corrections than his last one, "you may go ride your broom. This will need some corrections before you submit it to Professor McGonagall, as I have noted."

"Yes! Thank you, Sir!" Harry cried. He ran to get his broom.

"Harry," Snape called, stopping him before he fully left the room. "I will meet you out there."

Harry nodded. He had a sneaking suspicion that Snape was meeting him outside not to wish him luck but to provide him with rules to follow. It didn't matter. He was going to get to ride his Firebolt, and that was all Harry cared about at the moment.

The broom was stored in a closet in the kitchen by the back door. Harry knew this, even though he'd never been allowed to use it here. That didn't really bother him much because he never got to ride his broom in the summer. He'd still been hoping Snape would give him a chance soon. After all, Snape had told him when they first arrived that the wards were high and wide enough to allow it.

Snape wasn't keen on running in the house, and Harry didn't want to get in trouble and get the privilege revoked before he even used it. Therefore, he walked as slowly as he could get his feet to move. It was agonizing, but soon he was standing outside next to Snape, holding his Firebolt and grinning like a loon.

"First of all," Snape began, ignoring the expression on Harry's face, "I am sure you know what will happen if you fly past the wards."

"You'll take the broom away until I'm thirty?" Harry offered.

"Perhaps longer," Snape said dryly. "When you get close, you will hear a faint, high-pitched noise. I am sure you heard it during your little excursion the other day?"

If he had, Harry must have been too upset to notice. He gave Snape a chagrined look. This time would be different, though, he was sure.

"Pay closer attention this time, Harry," Snape scolded. "In fact, pay closer attention to everything. I do not want you getting injured when I have just spent all of this time and effort to begin patching you back together."

"Yes, Sir," Harry assured him earnestly, despite Snape's attempt at a joke, "I promise."

"No tricks," Snape intoned. "And do not stay out longer than an hour. Do you have a watch?"

Harry shook his head. Snape waved a hand and produced one and then set it to alarm in an hour. He clipped the chain to the pocket on Harry's shirt and put it inside. Although Harry felt somewhat like a little kid, he appreciated the gesture. No one had treated him like a little kid when he'd been one, after all.

"One hour," Snape reminded Harry.

"Yes, Sir!" Harry said, running out to the yard and kicking off.

"No shenanigans!" Snape called after him.

It felt amazing to be in the air again and on his own broom. The school broom was weak, jerky, and just plain slow. Harry took it easy at first so as not to give Snape a heart attack. By the time he had gotten far enough away from the house and high enough, he went faster. It felt good to have the wind in his face and the easy, free feeling of flight. Oh, how he'd missed it. Nothing really compared. To Harry, there was nothing more magical than flying a broom.

The hour ended much too fast, but Harry was not willing to risk overstaying his time. As soon as the warning went off, he flew back quickly. He hoped Snape had given him time to come back and still be on time with the hour warning. He must have because when Harry arrived, breathless and disheveled, Snape didn't seem annoyed.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" Snape asked mildly.

"Yes, Sir!" Harry told him. "It was brilliant!"

"That is good," Snape said. "Thank you for returning on time."

"Thanks for the watch," Harry said. "Do you want it back?"

"You keep it," Snape said. "I daresay you need something to ensure you keep the time."

Harry nodded and went inside to return his broom. He felt a little sad to put it away but reminded himself that he could ride it more often here. He would have to find out when.

"When can I do that again?" Harry asked.

"We shall see," Snape said. "I should think that it would serve as a sufficient reward for good behavior and completing your assignments."

Harry's shoulders drooped. That was not what he wanted to hear. He wasn't going to get to ride much if he had to complete an assignment every time he wanted to have a go.

"Every time?" he asked.

"As I said, we shall see," Snape told him. "You would do well not to pester me about it, though. There are other things I need you to do besides schoolwork. You are going to work with me on Potions, after all, and we are training in Defense. There are plenty of ways for you to earn broom rides."

That perked Harry up somewhat. He still didn't like the idea of Snape dangling his broom in front of him like this, but he had to admit that it did serve as a good incentive. He was going to do everything he could to get on that broom again.

"What do we do now then?" he asked.

"You are in a hurry, aren't you?" Snape looked mildly amused. "Go clean yourself up. You look like you've been through a windstorm. Then meet me in the Potions lab."

Although not what Harry wanted to hear, that news was not unexpected. Harry just nodded and went upstairs. He was going to make the post of these Potions lessons and learn what he could to make up for being rubbish at Potions for four years. It was a combination of Snape not trying to teach him and Harry not trying to learn, he had to admit. There was no time like the summer to make up for that.

When Harry went down to the lab, he still felt nervous. There was an empty cauldron on a bench and a set of Potions tools, a parchment, and some vials. Harry bit his lip and continued to walk down the stairs.

"The first thing I want to do," Snape began, "is get a sense of your abilities. I realize that you have been encumbered for the past few years. We are not going to get into it. What's past is past. I want to see what you can do in a less stressful environment. Here on this parchment is a simple potion. The ingredients are in that cupboard," he pointed, "and the materials you need are there. Take as long as you need. I will not intervene unless you are about the blow up the lab."

"You're serious?" Harry asked.

"Did you think I wasn't?" Snape seemed honestly confused. "Do you think you can't do it?"

Harry walked to the parchment and read the instructions. He was supposed to make a 'Wiggenweld Potion.' He looked up at Snape and nodded. Snape had said he wasn't going to intervene. Harry decided that he would do his best without anyone breathing down his neck or shouting insults or Malfoy throwing things into his cauldron.

The base was easy enough, and Harry was relieved when it looked as it should. Then he added the salamander blood. That part was tricky because there wasn't an instruction as to how much. He was just supposed to wait until the Potion turned red. If he had made the base wrong, he had already messed up the Potion. Then he was to stir until it turned orange. Harry internally groaned. He hated it when he had to stir things to the correct color.

As Harry continued, he was starting to get irritated at Snape for calling this Potion simple. It had more salamander blood, at least five more color changes, lionfish spines, and flobberworm mucous. By the time Harry was finished, his Potion was nowhere near the turquoise color it was supposed to be in the final stages. Instead, it was a putrid brown and smelled even worse.

With a grimace, Harry extinguished the heat and groaned. His Potion was a mess, and Snape was going to think his incompetence at Potions was ingrained. Just being in a lab was bringing back bad memories and habits for Harry, even though the man seemed to be making an effort to stay on the far side of the room and hadn't even glanced in his direction more than once or twice.

"It's finished," Harry grumbled. "And it didn't work."

He knew his tone was inappropriate, but he didn't care. He'd been working on the stupid Potion for over an hour, he hadn't gotten enough sleep, and he was feeling miserable. As far as Harry was concerned, nothing would get better as long as Harry and Snape were in the same Potions lab. He could drop this subject after fifth year anyway.

"Why should I bother?" Harry demanded.

"Excuse me?" Snape asked, honestly seeming surprised and not, obviously, privy to Harry's inner thoughts.

"I'm rubbish at Potions," Harry spat vehemently, "and I don't need to go on in sixth and seventh year. So why are you making me study this in the summer?"

"Harry, drop the attitude," Snape said. "I am aware that you do not enjoy studying potions. This was an assessment of your skills, no more. If you did not succeed, that just means that we have some work to do."

"I didn't succeed because you never bothered to teach me!" Harry said with a glare. "All you ever do is insult me and try to find things to say to make Malfoy and the other Slytherins laugh at me. Well, I'm not doing it anymore!"

"Yes, we have established that my behavior was inappropriate," Snape said, not rising to the bait, "and yours was no better. However, I was the adult, and I think it is safe to say that you responded to my cues in this case. So, we will begin with a fresh slate."

Harry crossed his arms and glowered at Snape, and Snape responded with an exasperated look. He vanished Harry's Potion without looking at it and seemed to consider what to do next. After a pause, he gestured to the tools and table.

"Clean up your workstation," he ordered. "We will begin by reviewing the basics as if you know nothing at all of Potions. I do not want to hear any arguing or complaining. If you know things, you will simply move through the curriculum quickly. We will continue once school starts until you are until the fifth year level."

"What?" Harry protested. "You have to be kidding. You want me to go back to first year Potions, and you're going to make me redo four years of Potions. When will I have the time, with all of my other classes, especially revising for OWLS?"

"This is revising for OWLS, Harry, in Potions at least," Snape said patiently.

While Harry had to admit that he had a point there, he did not want to spend his entire summer chopping up ingredients and stirring them into cauldrons. That and the idea that this would continue into the school year did not sit well with Harry. He was even more annoyed when he watched Snape walk to a low bookshelf and pull out a first year Potions text. It was utterly humiliating.

"How am I supposed to finish four years of Potions in one summer, especially when half of it's over?" Harry asked, aware that he was basically whining.

"We will not complete every lesson," Snape assured him firmly. "However, by the end of the summer, I will make sure you know the basics for a beginning fifth year, or you will be repeating fourth year Potions."

"What?" Harry gasped. "You didn't fail me, though! You've never failed me."

"No," Snape agreed. "Dumbledore wouldn't have allowed it. You are my son now, though, and it is no longer up to him."

"Wouldn't that be pretty humiliating for you though," Harry hedged, "to have your own son failing Potions?"

"I am not aiming to humiliate you," Snape said quietly, "I am trying to keep you safe. I will not have you in fifth year Potions if you are a hazard."

Harry glared at the man. It was unfair, but there didn't seem to be anything he could do about it. If he was going to argue with Snape, it wouldn't get him anywhere. He huffed and started cleaning up the workstation. Then he stood there and waited expectantly for Snape.

"We will begin by reviewing the tools and the basics of how to care for them," Snape said. "You will take notes."

With a wave of his hand, Snape produced a notebook and quill. These he handed to Harry. Harry just took them and put them down on the table.

"What, no lecture on how I can stopper death, brew glory, and bottle fame?" Harry asked.

"Hmm. It seems you were more or less listening," Snape said with a smirk. "Somewhat hyperbolic, but basically correct."

"I was. Listening, I mean. I told you!" Harry grumbled.

"So, you did," Snape said. "Very well, then, what is the most important thing to remember about keeping your tools?"

Harry glared at Snape. "Keep them clean. And sharp," he said.

"And avoid cross-contamination," Snape said. "I suppose I will accept your answer about keeping them clean in that case."

Snape continued to lecture, and Harry tried to stay awake. He had to admit that it was easier to follow when there weren't cruel remarks being directed at him or harsh looks. However, the lesson was entirely on cleaning tools and organizing ingredients. Harry found it so dull that his mind wandered.

"Very well," Snape said after what seemed like hours. "We will break for lunch, after which I will give you a test on what you have learned."

"Wait, what?" Harry asked, suddenly hearing what Snape had said. "Already?"

"You were paying attention, weren't you?" Snape asked. "I would like to make sure before we proceed to practical lessons."

As Snape walked up the steps to the kitchen, Harry threw back his head and groaned. He brought his notebook with him, hoping he could sneak a look at his notes. He wasn't sure he'd taken very good ones, but he also didn't think it would grant him any favors if he failed whatever test Snape had planned for after lunch.

The meal turned out to be some kind of pasta salad. It was waiting for them when they got to the table, as well as a glass of milk. Harry scowled at it. He was getting sick of the stuff.

"Can't I have some juice?" Harry asked. "Or even water?"

"No," Snape said. "Drink the milk."

By the end of lunch, Harry's glass remained untouched. It wasn't that he was trying to be complicated. He was just frustrated today and tired of being told what to do. When Snape looked pointedly at the glass, he took a sip. It was now room temperature. Snape could have at least placed a charm on it to keep it cool. Apparently, he thought Harry need a lesson.

"It's gross," Harry said.

"That's because you did not drink it when it was chilled," Snape told him. "I will cool it for you, but you need to drink it, and now. We have more Potions work to do, and then you are going to do another summer essay."

"Aw, come on," Harry moaned. "What about Defense? I thought I was going to learn some new spells. You're supposed to be training me, and all I'm doing so far is homework!"

"Drink the milk," Snape said darkly.

"Why should I even bother to do homework when I might get kicked out of Hogwarts anyway?" Harry said, ignoring Snape's demand about the milk.

"You will not be kicked out," Snape said firmly.

"I'm expelled," Harry reminded him.

"That is a technicality," Snape said. "The hearing will clear you. Underaged wizards are justified in using magic in self-defense. Now, drink your milk so that we can go on with our day."

Harry stared at the milk. He had no interest in drinking it, but on the other hand, he didn't want to fight Snape over such a minor issue. He remembered what had happened last night and didn't want to get to the point of Snape threatening him. With a sigh, he picked up the glass and drank it down in two gulps.

"Wise choice," Snape said.

Harry decided not to comment.

"Come," Snape said.

He led Harry into the library and produced a parchment and quill. Harry sat at the table and looked at the test. He was relieved that he seemed to know most of the answered, or at least thought he did. He should have picked up most of the basics in four years of potions, even if he had zoned out through most of Snape's lecture this morning. When he finished, he handed got up and gave the parchment to Snape at his desk.

"Go get one of your summer assignments," Snape reminded him.

Harry nodded. He went upstairs and grabbed his charms book and assignment. At least this one was considerably easier. For one thing, Professor Flitwick seemed to have wanted to make the assignment fun for them by asking them to choose three charms that were unknown to them but would be helpful and research them. Harry decided to choose charms from his new defense books. He was hard at work on that when Snape appeared before him.

"I would think that you would have paid more attention since you had ample opportunity to ask questions," he said, handing Harry a paper covered with corrections.

Harry swallowed heavily. It looked like his old Potions assignments, except that the comments weren't scathing insults. It was apparent that Snape was far from happy that Harry had blown such an easy assignment.

"I purposefully did not intervene, giving you a chance to do it on your own," Snape told him, making Harry feel even worse. "You are going to have to put an effort in. I am giving up my time to help you with this. As it is, you are going to be spending what would have been your free time this afternoon writing me the correct answers to these questions."

"Yes, Sir," Harry responded miserably.

He thought about apologizing, but instead, Harry just nodded and went back to his assignment. He hadn't put effort into the Potions work, and Snape had well known that. It hadn't really occurred to Harry that Snape was using his free time to help him. The man probably had things he'd rather be doing than remedial Potions too.

The rest of the afternoon was awful for Harry. He slogged through the Potions assignment first, trying to make it up to Snape. It really wasn't that hard. Most of the answers were in the back of the first year text and a Basic Potions Lab manual that Harry found in the library. Harry assumed Snape kept it around for errant children visiting in the summer, or it had been there for years. When he produced it for Snape's assessment, it was grudgingly deemed acceptable.

The charms essay was another matter. Snape accepted the charms well enough, though he cautioned Harry against trying any of them without permission. However, he said Harry's discussion of their worth and analysis of their potential use was cursory and perfunctory and made Harry rewrite the essay three times. By the third time, Harry was gritting his teeth and calling Snape every name he knew, in his head, of course.

At dinner time, Harry drank the milk without complaint. He also ate everything without arguing, although he did so mechanically. He was tired and just wanted to spend some time alone in his room reading or relaxing. He thought of his two-way mirrors. Maybe he could call Sirius and just talk to his Godfather. He was distracted by this idea when he realized that Snape was trying to get his attention.

"You have a visitor this evening, right after dinner," Snape said.

"What?" Harry asked. "Who?"

"Lupin is coming to have a session with you," Snape said.

"Tonight?" Harry swallowed. His mouth felt dray suddenly. "I really don't want to. Can't he come later?"

"You are supposed to be seeing him regularly," Snape reminded him. "I would like him to talk to you, especially given the procedure you have undergone. You have also been … touchy lately. It would do you good to talk to him."

"I don't want to talk to him tonight," Harry repeated. "I don't feel like it."

"You will often not feel like it," Snape said gently. "It is important for your healing. Remember the deal, Harry. You just have to meet with the man."

Harry groaned. There was no getting out of this. If he argued more, Snape would just start threatening him.

"Please?" Harry asked.

"Is there some reason you do not want to see Lupin?" Snape asked.

Harry thought about that. He did like Remus. He just didn't want to talk about his past, or his feelings, or whatever else Remus might make him talk about.

Snape seemed to realize this. He nodded. "You do not have to talk about anything in particular. You may spend the entire hour discussing Quidditch if you like," he said.

"I don't know if Remus knows anything about Quidditch," Harry said with a small smile.

"All the more reason to teach him then," Snape said, standing up and gesturing for Harry to do the same.

They walked into the parlor, and Harry immediately curled up on the couch. He grabbed a pillow from the middle and hugged it to his front, even though he felt a little silly to do so. Then he leaned back his head, and before he knew it, he was closing his eyes.

"Harry?"

Harry snapped his head up. He must have dozed off without realizing it. Remus was standing in the middle of the room, next to Snape. Despite his protests for having Remus come earlier, Harry smiled to see his old Defense teacher.

"Hi," he said softly.

"Hi, there, Harry," Remus said. "Am I interrupting a nap?"

"Oh, no, sorry," Harry said.

Remus and Snape exchanged a look.

"I'll leave you two to it then," Snape said. "I'll be in my lab for at least the next hour. You can send a house elf for anything you need, of course."

"Thank you, Severus," Remus said. "We'll be fine."

Sitting down in an armchair close to where Harry was sitting on the couch, Remus asked, "How are you doing, Harry?"

"I'm fine," Harry said reflexively. "A little tired, I guess. Snape wants me to do homework all the time! And remedial potions." He made a face.

"Yes, well, I guess that is what living with a professor would be like," Remus said with a chuckle. "Other than that, how are the two of you getting along?"

"Oh," Harry wasn't sure how to answer that question. "Pretty well, I guess. He's strict, but he takes good care of me. Too good, if you ask me. He wants me to eat a ton of food, and he made me get a physical. I had to do this procedure at Hogwarts to repair old injuries, broken bones, and stuff. I had to stay overnight in a coma. It was awful. It took days to keep from being tired."

"That sounds scary," Remus sympathized. "Do you have to do more sessions?"

Apparently, Remus was familiar with the procedure. Harry wondered just how common it was. He eyed the man quizzically.

"I have to do one more, at least," Harry said. "Snape thinks it will be easier than the last one, though."

Remus nodded. He had apparently expected that answer. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, Harry," he said softly.

"I don't get it," Harry said. "Why now? Why didn't anyone care before?"

"It's not a question of caring, Harry," Remus said. "Although the fact that you have a guardian now did indeed make a difference. Severus is very diligent. He is also experienced. He knew what to look for and suspected that you might have old injuries. It is also logical when a child first comes into your care to know as much about them as possible. A physical is a responsible thing to do."

"He said I should have had one first year but that the Dursleys never consented," Harry said darkly.

"Well, not all guardians are the responsible sort," Remus said.

"The Dursleys didn't care about me," Harry said. "They never took me to any kind of doctor unless it was required for school, and then they took me to the worst ones."

"That explains why some injuries were untreated," Remus said slowly, "but not how you came to have them in the first place." He looked at Harry as if giving him the option to answer or not.

Harry waited, considering. He had never told anyone about his life with the Dursleys, partly because he didn't want to think about it. There were times when he had been young when he had tried to get a teacher or a school nurse to listen. That had never ended up in his favor. The Dursleys were somehow always able to convince the school that Harry was a liar. By the time he'd come to Hogwarts, he had been so relieved to get away from them for most of the year that the last thing he wanted to do while at school was talking about what happened during the summer.

"What does it matter?" Harry asked.

"It is true that your relatives will not hurt you anymore," Remus said slowly. "However, there can be lingering effects from their treatment. In your behavior, in your attitude, in your affect, even in your self-worth. That is why it is good to confront your past. For your sake, not theirs."

To a certain extent, Harry could see what he meant. It felt much safer to push that part of him aside and ignore it, however. He didn't want to think about it, let alone talk about it. Harry hung his head, hugging the pillow closer. Then he looked up.

"I don't need to think about them," he said fiercely. "I have fought basilisks and Voldemort, and Dementors. If they don't want me, I don't want them either."

Remus nodded. "Fair enough," he said. "Keep in mind, though, that it is not a question of them 'not wanting' you that matters. If that is important to you, then you need to address it. They are your family. Petunia was your mother's sister. Apparently, Dumbledore thought that mattered to her enough that she should take you into her heart and her household and care for you like a son. It seems he was mistaken. Severus, on the other hand, loved your mother. He has taken you into his heart and his home. He is taking care of you like a son. He may not necessarily have much experience, and it will not always be easy. However, from what I can tell, he is doing his utmost to make up for his absence in your life thus far."

"So, what if he is?" Harry said. "Does that make it okay?"

"The way he treated you before?" Remus asked. "No, Harry. Nothing excuses that. I think you know that. You need to forgive him if you are going to move on. Have you?"

Harry thought about that. Had he forgiven Snape? He wasn't sure. It was hard, even though Snape had adopted him and was treating him well. There were too many reminders of how Snape used to be. Harry was finding it difficult to separate the two Snapes, and he was finding it even harder to separate his own behavior sometimes.

"What happens if they kick me out of Hogwarts?" Harry said in a quiet voice. "Maybe Snape wouldn't even want me once I don't have a wand and can't be a fully-functional wizard."

"That's not going to happen, Harry," Remus said firmly. "Have you talked to Severus about this?"

"He said that I had a right to defend myself," Harry snorted. "Since when does the Ministry care about my rights? They made me compete in the tournament last year! Dumbledore made me complete. What makes you think anyone will protect me now?"

For a few moments, Remus didn't say anything. Then he leaned forward and put a soft hard on Harry's arm. "I know that you are worried about this, Harry," he said. "I think you should talk more to Severus about it or to me. Talk to Sirius, too, through your mirror. Do not let it eat you up inside or keep you up at night."

Harry nodded.

Remus continued. "I know it seems like we did not do a good job of protecting you last year. And we didn't. Even Severus feels some guilt over this. All of us, though, are doing the best we can to protect you here. Dumbledore is using all of his political influence or a great deal of it. Severus is a formidable opponent here too. He is waiting until the proper time to show his cards. The Ministry might have overplayed their hand here. We are working to find out what happened and why, but in trying to discredit you or scare you, they did not expect it to happen as it did."

"Were they trying to kill me?" Harry asked.

"I do not know," Remus said. "I think that it is known to at least a few in the Ministry that you can produce a Patronus."

Harry looked down. He felt sick, talking about this. He didn't know which was worse—that someone had tried to kill him or that they were trying to scare him and thought he could easily defend himself. He wasn't sure he wanted hit squads after him all the time.

"You have help now, Harry; remember that," Remus reminded him.

After Remus left, Harry tried not to think about the conversation as he was getting ready for bed. He held his journal in his hands, knowing he should record the dark thoughts to avoid nightmares. It seemed a pointless task. The nightmares and other weird, creepy dreams would come nonetheless.

Harry cast a silencing charm and got into bed. Sometimes he fell asleep right away, and sometimes it seemed like it took hours. Lately, falling asleep hadn't been the problem. He didn't even wake up. He just fought through the horrible nightmares for what seemed like all night long and woke up exhausted from his efforts.

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

"Yes, Sir," Harry called after quickly canceling the charm.

For a minute, it seemed like Snape was going to say something. Harry wondered if he knew about the charm. He stayed still, horrified. It was his darkest secret, and he couldn't imagine what Snape would say when he found out. For one thing, he wasn't supposed to keep anything like this a secret. He also wasn't supposed to do magic without permission.

"Well, goodnight, then," Snape said, his voice unreadable.

Harry couldn't see his face in the dark. He hoped his voice hadn't given anything away. He tried to keep it calm when responding.

"Goodnight, Sir."

"We will go jogging again in the morning," Snape told him. Then he turned and left.

For a moment, Harry considered calling after him and confessing, but he didn't. It wasn't so much that he feared Snape would punish him, although he figured he probably would. It was just a secret he felt he needed to keep for a while longer. The nightmares were something Harry was going to have to fight out until he won them over himself.