Harry was just starting to settle into life at the Dursleys, where he was scum and that wasn't going to change. He tried, he really did, to just be a decent child who did his chores, even though the list was monstrous long.

Nothing he ever did was enough, though - miss one corner, one bit of dust, and it was "to bed without supper for you." It was a good thing he snacked while everyone was out, or he'd have turned into a wraith before he was seven.

Harry was working his frustrations out on the kitchen floor, shoving so hard he figured he'd unearth the linoleum from it's moorings one of these days. Luckily, his Aunt wasn't watching - she'd have had a fit. Not that he'd actually harmed the linoleum, but The Very Idea!

Harry heard the doorbell ring, and slowly started to edge over to where he could see from the kitchen, which was at the back of a long hall from the front door. Before he was halfway over there, Dudley appeared from the living room, shaking the entire house as he ran to the door, "Coming!" he bellowed.

Opening the door, Dudley asked with a dash of belligerence, "Who're you?" Which Harry thought was odd. Oddities didn't happen around his aunt and uncle. They rather preferred it that way. Nice and orderly. So someone at the door who Dudley didn't recognize (and wasn't expected) was likely to be a Jehovah's Witness or something. Not One of Us as Aunt Petunia would say.

"Is your mother home? I have some business with her..." Harry heard someone say, and frowned. Dammit, he knew that voice...

"I'll go get her! She's painting her nails." Dudley said, volunteering unasked information as spoilt kids often did. He closed the door and galumphed up the stairs. Harry thought, One of these days he's gong to break them.

Aunt Petunia came down the stairs in a stately manner - Harry had almost gotten in sight of the door, when Aunt Petunia's posy-filled dress blocked his line of sight.

"Can I help-" Aunt Petunia started, and then shrieked, "YOU!"

"I heard you were looking for a boarder," That irritatingly familiar voice said.

"Certainly not! You can't! I won't have you." Aunt Petunia said firmly.

"Were you lying when you put the advert in?" the voice said, and Harry caught a glimpse of black pants. Not that that should have been enough, but- Harry's jaw dropped. Was that Snape outside? Professor Snape? At Aunt Petunia's?

"Well, no," Aunt Petunia said, "But my nephew is staying here for the summer, and so we haven't room."

"I'll take the basement," the voice said, and Harry was suddenly certain that it was Snape.

"The going rate's 500 pounds a month," Aunt Petunia said crossly, "But you can have the mouldy basement if you desire. We could use the money, to be honest." The crossness in Aunt Petunia's voice got worse as she said the last sentence.

"Very well," Severus Snape said, "May I come in?"

Aunt Petunia sighed, "I suppose. Considering you'll be living here."

Harry at last caught sight of the Potions Master, somehow draped in a black sweater and black pants, looking more like a college professor than a Wizard. Harry realized he'd never seen Snape out of his normal garb, and that the man seemed drawn out of pipe cleaners - thin to the point of being unhealthy. He looked very out of place in Aunt Petunia's house, dressed as a muggle or no.

"I will require privacy. Once I occupy the basement, no one is to enter except your nephew, and then only with my permission." Snape said firmly.

"As you will." Aunt Petunia said, sounding no happier than ever, "When will you be moving in?"

Snape smirked, "Now's as good a time as any." Snape looked around, clearly catching sight of Harry Potter, English Eavesdropper. "May I have use of your nephew? Some of what I'm carrying in is rather unwieldy."

"So long as you and him keep quiet and don't bother the neighbors," Aunt Petunia said gruffly.

[a/n: And, so. There'll be another chapter on this, because Snape hasn't said a word to Harry yet. Leave a review? I realize this wasn't what you signed up for, but it was a dangling plotthread and I hate those.]