PissedOffEskimo
Pairing: HP/DM
Rating:R (Eventually)
Author's Note: For all you lovely, patient people out there, I thank you. While threatening emails do generally have the desired effect of getting me to update (and cheer me up), I'm not sure it would have worked this time. As you can see, I'm breaking each year up and right now I'm looking at four to five parts per summer. They'll probably get longer as he gets older, but then... well, hell if I know, I only write the thing.
Summer I / Part A:
July 1, 1990
"But, he doesn't like me!" Harry tried to pull away from Minerva, who held onto his hand more firmly.
Minerva sighed deeply and continued to trudge towards the dungeon, "Severus doesn't like anyone, Harry."
He gave up trying to make a break for it and pouted instead, "Then why do I have to stay with him? Why can't I go with you?"
Minerva stopped and turned around, kneeling in front of the boy. During the school year she and the other teachers had taken care of him. They had attempted to keep it a secret at first, but when he'd realized that he wasn't going to be starved or locked up for breaking rules, he had begun doing so frequently, so it had become widely spread knowledge that Harry Potter was a resident of Hogwarts.
That in itself would not have been such a great tragedy, for the most part the student body was as quick to dote on the short nine year old as the faculty, however, the Weasley twins had started their first year and they saw it as an opportunity to 'corrupt the innocent.' Despite the best efforts of the staff, Harry now knew as many secret passages as any of the professors and probably more. He also knew where the kitchens were located, which had led to more stomach troubles than Minerva cared to account for. It had become a full time task keeping track of the little fiend.
The transformation from shy, unsure, and practically mute to outgoing, rambunctious, and occasionally talkative had taken surprisingly little time and had nearly as many negative repercussions as it did positive; not that she didn't adore him now that he spoke his mind freely and did what he liked when he liked it, but it was tiresome and she and the rest of the staff were looking forward to nearly two months of vacation. So, while they were gone, it had been arranged by Dumbledore (and only Merlin knew how) that Snape would watch over him. An extra room had been made adjacent to Snape's quarters in the dungeons and it was even arranged for Snape's nephew, Draco Malfoy, to come spend two weeks at the school as well. Dumbledore had thought it would be 'splendid' for Harry to interact with a child his own age and somehow (again, only Merlin knew how) convinced Lucius Malfoy and Severus both to agree to it.
Of course, the young Malfoy would not be arriving for a month and a half, and Harry was not very eager to be left alone for six weeks with a man the whole school kept referring to as 'the greasy git.'
She sighed at the boy's pouting lip. He was getting too good at that, if he wasn't careful he'd be sorted into Slytherin. "Hogwarts is the safest place for you, Harry."
He looked down, shoulders slumped, "Than why can't you stay here?"
"Because I have to go home and see my family, Harry, I miss them." She brushed a few errant hairs behind his ear and ignored them when they popped back out, "It won't be so bad. It's only two months, that's eight weeks, and you'll have company for two of them. Besides, Harry, Dumbledore and Hagrid will be here most of the time and you can visit them whenever you like."
"Why can't I stay with one of them?"
Minerva stood up and took Harry's hand again,
"We've been through this. There's no telling when Dumbledore may be called
away, and Hagrid is too busy tending the forest and animals; it's safer for you to be
somewhere where there will be someone to watch you at all times. Come along."
He didn't argue anymore, just walked a step or two behind, as though to remind her
that he was being forced. He gave her one last pleading look when they stopped at
Snape's door, but she forced herself not to give in. It would have been so much more
pleasant to see him smile before she left.
When the door opened, Minerva was not in the least pleased to see that Severus looked about as pleased as Harry with the arrangements. His sneer was deeper than normal, and his posture was just short of looking sulky. Minerva knelt down and Harry threw his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly. "I'll miss you, Professor."
She smiled into his hair, "And I'll miss you, Harry. Now get settled in and I'll be back before you know it."
He looked up at Snape as she walked away. His summer was going to be miserable. Of course, that was assuming he made it out alive; Snape already looked as though he wanted to strangle Harry. "Are you going to stand there all evening, or do you to intend actually come in?"
Harry fought the urge to say that he would rather just stand there, but decided against it as Snape stepped aside to allow him passing room. He didn't want to tempt fate this early in his two month 'sentence.' He had spent the entire year avoiding Snape. He'd sat as far from him as possible during breakfast, lunch, and dinner; he'd run entire circles around the school to avoid the dungeons; he'd even volunteered to help Professor Trelawny categorize her new inventory of herbs rather than be babysat by the potion's master.
Snape's living room hadn't changed at all; the sofa pillow and blanket were still rumpled in the exact same way they had been the day Professor McGonigall had picked him up. The only difference Harry could find was that the wall to the right, which had been blank save for the fireplace, now had a door on it as well. Snape didn't tell Harry that this was his room. In fact, he didn't say anything at all before going back to his desk and sitting down.
Harry waited in silence for nearly a full minute before Snape finally looked up, obviously irritated. "I don't suppose you brought something to amuse yourself with?" Harry nodded slowly, not sure exactly what Snape was referring to, but thinking that any other answer would have been unacceptable.
"Then go to your room and do it." I don't expect to see you until supper.
He nodded, "Yes, Professor," and went into the room without waiting for further instructions.
It was larger than his other bedroom, which was connected to McGonigall's, but it was also more barren. The walls were dark grey and there were no windows, just a light hanging on the ceiling, a lamp on either side of his bed, and one on his desk. Even the quidditch poster Madame Hooch had given him for Christmas looked incredibly small on the large expanse of wall across from his bed.
He checked in the wardrobe and found that the elves had already moved everything into it, all folded nicely or hanging. His desk, too, was neatly filled with the quills and pencils and parchment that he amused himself with when he was bored, and the books he had checked out from the library to read over the holidays were squared away on one corner.
Sitting on the large bed, he was surprised to find it fairly springy, though not necessarily soft. He lay down, crossing his arms over his head, and stared at the ceiling. It was going to be a very long summer.
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Harry woke the next morning feeling more tired than when he had fell asleep, which seemed strange as he had actually been in bed for several hours more than usual. He opened his eyes thinking of telling Professor McGonagall about the really strange dream he'd had that night about a flying motorcycle (he hadn't had that one since he'd come to Hogwarts), but his unfamiliar surrounding quickly reminded him that he wasn't in his room in Gryffindor tour and McGonagall wasn't there to talk to.
He had to deal with Snape.
The floor under his feet was colder than it was in the tower, as there were no windows to warm up the stone in the early morning light. He hurried over to his wardrobe and dug around for socks first, then his pants and a shirt. Harry looked out into the room for Snape and spotted him sitting at his desk in the living room, scratching notes on something.
Biting his lower lip, Harry looked around for a table, but couldn't see one. He was about to say something when Snape suddenly spoke, "Breakfast was over an hour ago. I suggest that in the future you attempt to wake up before noon."
Harry scowled at the dismissive tone. Snape hadn't even bothered to look at him, but he said nothing as he closed the door quietly behind him. "Did you make your bed?"
Harry frowned, "The house elves..."
"That's no reason to be lazy, Potter. Go and make your bed."
With a huff, Harry went back into his room, nearly slamming the door in his annoyance. What did it matter if he made the bed? The house elves were just going to come and remake it after him, they always did. And why did Snape have to be so… so mean this early in the morning? It wasn't even tea time, yet and the man was already in a foul temper.
After making sure the corners were tucked in, he flattened the wrinkles and sat in the desk chair, trying to decide what he should do. He desperately wanted to go see Hagrid or Dumbledore, but didn't want to be a bother. Perhaps he could simply explore the castle, or try and break into the broom shed by the field. He envied the players flying high above the stands and wished very much that he could try, but McGonigal had said he was too young and that he would have to wait till his first year.
Broom shed it was. Swinging his legs over the side, he opened
the door and made a beeline across the living room. The last thing he wanted was for Snape
to tell him he couldn't go out. He'd absolutely die of boredom if he
couldn't go out. Either that or Snape would get annoyed with him and kill him.
"Potter."
Harry stopped with his hand on the knob. "Yes, Professor?"
"Are there clothes on the floor?" For a moment, Harry looked around the living room in confusion. "In your bedroom, Potter. Did you leave the clothes on the floor? I will not tolerate disorder."
Harry didn't bother say that the house elves would pick them up, whether they were on the floor or not. He simply walked back into his room, picked up his dirty pants and shirt and set them on top of his made bed. He gave the room one last inspection, pushing his desk chair in and squaring the papers for good measure, before he came out again. "Is there anything else, Professor?"
"Have you bathed?" Oh for the love of… "Despite what you may think, tidiness does extend to personal hygiene. For future reference you should bathe, brush your teeth, and put on fresh clothing every morning. You are to make your bed and keep your floor clean. Are we clear?"
He still hadn't looked up. That, more anything, aggravated Harry. The man wouldn't even acknowledge him and he was still giving him a lecture! Swallowing his anger, Harry nodded, "Yes, Professor."
"Good. You're dismissed."
Dismissed! This wasn't a class, he wasn't a student, Snape had no right to 'dismiss' him! Harry clenched his teeth before going into his room, taking a book from his desk and throwing himself on the living room couch to read. He saw Snape look at him from the corner of his eye, so he stretched out, putting his feet on the sofa and kicking a few pillows onto the floor.
If Snape insisted on treating him like an annoying child, he decided, he'd do his best to behave like one.
-tbc-