The Fates of Snakes and Lions

by ArcticFoxScribe

Set after the events of OoTP, Harry finds himself in the care of the last man he'd expect, Severus Snape. With little choice in the matter, both Harry and Snape must work past their personal demons and their past if they are to come together to face the oncoming storm that will threaten to not only engulf them, but the Wizarding World itself. (Snape Mentors Harry Fic)

2. Unwanted House Guest

Author's Notes: First off allow me to apologize for the time it took to get out the second chapter. Almost a month, and that is very unacceptable. I will be trying to get out a new chapter every two weeks. Sooner if work and time allow it of course. Not only that, but I would like to thank those that actually took interest in this story. I know the title is rather generic, but I promise that the story within won't be. For now, enjoy the second chapter in "The Fates of Snakes and Lions"

Harry James Potter didn't not come to the waking world easily. It had been hours since he had last truly opened his eyes, perhaps even longer, there was no real way to tell. However, as those lids slowly pulled open, and bright green irises looked around, Harry felt a sensation of shock, confusion, and fear fill him. He wasn't in his room.

Then again, it was hard to call that chamber of hell and horror a room of any kind. Yet it was still his and, more importantly, it was painfully memorable. The boy knew that, from where he passed out on the floor, he should have a great view of the steel bars welded across his window, the beams of sunlight pushing between their spaces. To his left his "bed" would be pushed in the corner, covered in filth, bugs, and god knows what else. Hedwig would be watching over Harry with those bright eyes of her, filled with anguish that she couldn't leave her cage to help her Master. For once Harry was glad he had listened to Hermione on owl keeping advice and made sure to charm her cage with as many self-cleaning and self-feeding charms he could think of. It was the last bit of magic he did, noticing the bars were back as Vernon pulled into the driveway after picking him up from Kings Cross, before vanishing his trunk and wand to the only place it could be kept safe. Grimmauld Place. Either way, when he woke up those were the sights that should have greeted him, which were to be promptly followed by pain, nausea, and pressing hands of Vernon clasping around his neck, lifting him to his feet for either another beating, or to fix him food.

However, none of this happened. Instead, Harry found himself in something he hadn't felt since his last night at Hogwarts castle, comfort. Under his fingers he could feel silken sheets. Just below that, a mattress that supported his body, cradling it softly. His head was resting upon an honest to God pillow, and he could feel a cover pulled up to his shoulders, keeping him warm. Either he had finally died and this was his heaven, or Vernon had finally gone off the deep end and decided to make good on his other vile plans for Harry. He ventured to open his eyes a tad bit wider, even though it didn't matter, as his glasses had long since been broken at the hands of his Uncle. Everything was an unrecognizable blur, yet even with everything blurred the way it was, nothing looked like it belong to Privet Drive. The biggest give away, the poster hanging on the wall that was moving. If he squinted he could just make out the colors of the Chudley Cannons Quidditch team.

"Mr. Potter, I see you have decided to grace us with your waking presence" came a voice. A voice he hoped to never hear till school started again. A voice that often filled his dreams with snark, sneers, and general unpleasantness. A voice belonging to a man who made sure that Harry's already damaged life was made all the worse.

"Professor, what are you doing here," Harry found it hard to keep both the confusion and disgust of being in the same room as Snape out of his voice, not even able to bring himself to say the man's name. As he spoke, his hand rose to his throat, finding his voice to be scratchy and his throat slightly sore. Considering the damage it went through at the hands of Vernon, this was a better outcome than he should have expected.

"I live here Mr. Potter, so why would I be anywhere else. You didn't think I lived in the dungeons of Hogwarts did you" came the trademark snark of Snape. Without dropping his sneer, the Potions Master made way towards Harry, who suddenly pulled the covers tighter around his body, a move that didn't go unnoticed by Snape "Stop cowering in fear Potter, I have to check your wounds to make sure they have healed"

"I-I can do that myself Sir" the defiance in Harry's voice almost made the Snape stop. Almost. Instead it just served to irritate him further. How dare Potter deny him the right to check on him. Did the brat think he was just too good for his care? Without sparing a thought for the boys modest, Snape produced his wand and vanished the covers, leaving the boy bare to the world.

Pushing the boys whimpers and protest aside, Snape looked him over, noting than even with the smallest of sleeping gowns, Potter was far too skinny for them. Grasping the young man's face, and ignoring his flinching, Snape took a look at his nose, glad to see it was setting properly. The same could be said for the teeth that had grown in over night, at least the few times he could see them between tightly held lips of Potter. When he was sure that the boy was up to par, at least as much as Potter deserved to be, Snape retreated back to his chair, his eyes locked onto the young man, watching as he drew his legs up to his chest.

"Why am I here Sir, as I am sure any of the other Order members would have been much happier with me in their care. As opposed to being in yours"

"You ungrateful whelp" Severus started, his voice dropping to a dangerous growl, "None of the other Order would have even bothered to heed the words of Miss. Fig, instead taking Dumbledore at face value. So instead of insulting me, a thank you for saving your life would be welcome Potter. Or is the spawn of James Potter above thanking those who give him a hand. Now spare me that Gryffindor pride and tell me what happened to you while you were in your Uncle's care"

The hair or Harry's neck bristled at Snape's words. Did this man care at all? Harry could barely recall the night before, only the blinding pain and darkness of unconsciousness, but not even in his wildest dreams could he imagine Snape coming to rescue him because he actually cared. His crass words and the way he took the liberty to exam his body made Harry sick with revulsion. Snape didn't deserve a thank you, as much as he deserved a hex between the eyes. Biting his lip, Harry drew up his resolve and meet Snape's sneer with a glare of his own.

"I will tell you nothing, Sir," Harry spat, anger brimming in his voice "Maybe I didn't want to be saved. Maybe I was fine there. Besides, it isn't like I have not survived summers at the Dursley's hands before, no one cared then so why should I believe anyone cares now. If it isn't too much to ask, this spawn of James Potter would love to be left alone until a real member of the Order of the Phoenix arrives. And not some simple spy"

It wasn't clear which hit first, the pain of being verbally brought down by a mere child, or the hate being beamed at him by Lily's eyes. Regardless the mix of emotions led to only one thing in the Professor, rage. For the most part he managed to contain it, bottling up his emotions to prevent himself from lashing out at the boy. Instead, he merely left, slamming the door and leaving Potter to stew in his own problems, while he sought out FireWhiskey to sort out his.

With the room now to himself, Harry let go of the tension and fear that had been mounting up inside of him with a sigh. Even then, it still did nothing to ease his situation. He had no idea where he was, outside of in the home of Potions Master who lived to make his life hell. Resting his chin on his knees, the young man tried to bring back the memories from the night was a bit hazy, like a gray film over his mind. He could recall most of what had transpired, how Vernon had gotten drunker than usual. In his head he could still see the meaty fist of Vernon raining down onto his face. That and the pain was all he could draw up, pain he found himself all but numb to. Casting a glance around the room, his eyes landed on a bathroom. With little else to do, Harry decided to take advantage of the moment, having not had a hot shower in went seemed like forever.

Thanking Merlin that the shower wasn't an over complicated mess like the one at the Weasley's, seriously who needed an auto-expanding shower, Harry turned the taps and let the roar of the water flow into his ears. It was soothing, as steam filled the small bathroom, to just stand there and breath in a moment of peace. Not have to worry about his Uncle and whatever new torture and way to inflict pain onto his body. At the thoughts of his body, Harry eyed himself in the mirror as he slipped of the sleeping gown, unable to even meet his own gaze. His body disgusted him. How could this frail, easily broken body be that of the savior of the Wizarding World. His fingers traced the outlines of his ribs, glad that they were healed, though still a bit tender. Even despite his healers, as he highly doubt it was the work of Snape's skills, Harry could still make out the bruises and discoloration on his skin, though it was clear they were fading away, along side older scars. Though there were still certain scars that seemed to be taking forever to vanish. From reading about Healers at school and his own experience with being Madam Pomfrey's favorite patient, Harry knew that magic wasn't going to erase those unsightly marks over night, mostly due to their nature. A small smirk played across his lips, he could hear the Healer's voice now, berating him for once again getting all banged up. Though, going by the pain he had gone through for two weeks, even Pomfrey wouldn't be too hard on him. His gaze locked with that of his reflection for a moment. In that moment Harry could see only one thing. Weakness. Casting his eyes away, Harry made for the shower, hoping that the hot water would ease his pain.

Snape was furious. Even after using his wand to obliterate several rather nice vases from Narcissa, Snape was still angry. How dare that sorry excuse for a wizard say that to him. After he saved his life no less. The boy may have had Lily's eyes, but his heart was all Potter. Eschewing the glass, Snape drank right from the bottle of FireWhiskey, letting the burn eradicate his anger. Unlike with other emotions however, the alcohol only served to irritate him more, which led him to drink even more from the bottle. He swore to Narcissa he would give up drowning his emotions in liquor, yet it was far easier than dealing with his problems normally. Besides, this was far cheaper and less invasive than dealing with a Mind Healer. On top of that, part of the blame for him drinking at this moment lay with Narcissa. How could she, of all people, suggest talking to Harry? Not only did she know how James Potter was when it came to others trying to talk to him, did she really think he was qualified to talk with a young man who had been as abused as he was? Even his own abuse wasn't that bad, and besides Snape wasn't about to coddle the child either. Harry was almost sixteen if he remembered correctly, old enough to deal with any emotional problems on his own. Snape didn't have any outside help and he turned out just fine. Granted he had some bumps along the way, but it made him stronger. He had no doubt that Harry would move past this. Or use it as some sympathy card to elevate his status even moreso. His mind balked at the mental image of Potter signing books in Hogsmeade, his face plastered across a hardcover, detailing his harrowing story of survival and escape from the vile Muggles. Knowing Potter, Snape was willing to bet his contribution wouldn't even make it into a footnote. Snape's eyes cast down at the bottle noting that it was almost empty. It was the second bottle gone this week, he made a mental reminder to send Pippy to go get some more. And to brew up some more Sober Up Potions.

As he drained the last of the amber liquid, Snape took up residence in his chair to consider his options. Despite the meaning behind them, Potter was right, one of the other Order members should be looking after the boy. He knew Molly was the perfect person, and was itching to give her a call by way of Floo, yet something in the spies mind was still nagging at him. Why would Dumbledore ignore any of this? To the point where Miss. Fig came to him of all people for help. Something didn't sit right with him, and he was willing to bet that the blame could be cast onto the Squib herself. Perhaps she never got in contact with the Headmaster and now, faced with proof of her own negligence, she was trying her best to cover her tracks. It was a likely outcome, one that seemed far more believable than Dumbledore ignoring his most prized Lion. That being said, Snape put it all in the back of his mind for now. Right now his biggest focus was getting Potter out of his house.

"What do you mean in Romania" Snape growled, his eyes filled with malice towards the pre-recorded image of Molly Weasley's head floating in his floo

"I am so sorry I couldn't be reached, but the clan and I are visiting Charlie in Rom-" Snape cut the connection before the floating head of Molly could repeat her message. România. Why, of all places, did they have to go there. Not only would it be almost impossible to get a private Floo connected up there, but there wasn't even a guarantee that he'd be able to get in contact with Molly regardless. Sending an owl was also out of the question, as it could be weeks before his letter would even reach her. Meaning Potter was stuck here longer than he'd like.

As he sunk back into his chair, Snape's eyes looked upwards, still hearing the roar of the shower going above him. It had been going on for the better part of half an hour. Snape toyed with the idea of putting an end to Potter's drawn out shower, but wanted him to afford him some form of privacy and luxury. He may not be happy with the boy's existence, but he wasn't cruel enough to deny him a long shower. Perhaps he should owl the Headmaster, let him handle this mess. It would be far easier than trying to deal with Potter for however long it would take for the Weasley clan to return from their vacation. Picking up his quill, he was about to pen his missive when the floo crackled to life, and out stepped Narcissa, clad in one of her more elegant white dresses that always managed to stay free of soot during floo travel. Snape had often wondered if it was a spell she used to keep her clothing spotless, or was the Witch just rather adept at using Floo travel without dealing with any of the more unpleasant side-effects.

"I'm going to go off on a limb" Narcissa rounded on Severus, her keen eyes spotting the bits of broken glass and the empty bottle of FireWhiskey on the floor, "That your talk with Harry didn't go as expected"

"That is where you are wrong. It went exactly as I expected, with that vile boy taking time out not to thank me, but to disrespect myself and everything I have ever done at the behest of the Order and Dumbledore. Everything I have ever done for Dumbledore was so his precious Lion could beat the Dark Lord, and what is my thanks? Back talk and scathing remarks"

Narcissa looked down on her long time friend, her brow wrinkling in thought. She knew Severus wasn't going to be talkative with Harry after just one day, but even still she was more annoyed that the man couldn't see past his blind hate for James Potter to actually aid Harry. Perhaps letting Severus handle this was a grave mistake after all

"Any word from Molly, or the HeadMaster" she questioned, assuming that Snape would contact her as a quick way of getting Harry out of his house. Using her wand to reassemble the broken vases and banish the empty bottle out of existence, saving the conversation of Severus's drinking for another time.

"The Weasley Clan are currently abroad in Romania for who knows how long. As for the HeadMaster, I am about to contact him now. At this point I could care less where he sends Potter, as long as it is out of my house"

"Speaking of Potter where is he? I hope you haven't left home alone for too long Severus"

"Why should I care how long he has been alone, he is fifteen, perfectly able to take care of himself and despite his performance, smart enough not to mess with anything that doesn't belong to him"

Narcissa heaved a sigh, annoyed that Severus couldn't grasp that the boy shouldn't be alone after his ordeal. The man was woefully out of his depth. Leaving Severus to pen his note to Dumbledore, Narcissa made her way towards the Manors upper level, taking a guess that Severus had Harry in the guest room.

Her hunch was correct, as she could hear not only the shower, but also the voice of someone talking. No, not talking, singing? Casting a spell to mute the sound of the shower, Narcissa pressed her ear to the door, trying to hear if that truly was Harry singing. However luck wasn't on the side of her curiosity, as Harry shut off the shower. She could hear him shuffling about, muttering about how stiff his right arm was. Seeing that as the perfect time to introduce herself to her young patient.

After the shower, Harry found himself a bit more at ease, the heat having massaged his stress away till it was just a small ache in the back of his mind. While the stress may have left, his irritation and worry didn't abet. How could Snape think what he did was okay, in any light? Even if it was to make sure of his health, Harry had enough of people thinking they could touch him whenever they wanted, and coming from his most hated teacher added even more insult to the injury. While he was grateful to be out from under Vernon, he wasn't sure if being in the same house as Snape was no different. The wizard was vicious, at least in his eyes. To make matters worse, he could use magic and potions to do much more damage than Vernon could ever dream. A dark chuckle rose to his ears at the thought of Snape giving Vernon tips on how to torture someone without leaving any lasting evidence. The chuckle turned into a full blown shudder of disgust. Still, the thought that Snape may cause him some type of harm never left Harry's mind, and had him hope that Dumbledore would notice he was gone and come to his rescue.

That was a rich thought, Dumbledore swooping in to save him from the cruelty of someone. Considering how many times he had made mention of his home life, the HeadMaster never bothered to come save him then, so why would now be any different. Perhaps Snape could convince him that being left there wasn't for the best. Then again, maybe Snape would say Harry was just "over reacting" and "begging for attention." God he hated that dungeon bat, even if he could somewhat understand why the man disliked him. He wasn't very talented and got by on luck, instead of brains. It wasn't that he hated learning, it was just hard with the weight of having to save the entire world resting on one's shoulders. Even more so now since he knew that Snape was right, and he was just a failure. A failure who let others die for him, or fight battles that were supposed to be his own. Like Sirius. The man had only been free from Azkaban for a few years, made into a full member of the Order of the Phoenix, and right when his life was set to begin anew, it was snuffed away. All because Harry had to go chasing after some stupid Orb. Looking down at his hands, Harry tried his best to push the painful thoughts away, even as tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. Maybe Snape never should have came, and just left him there to suffer. Maybe, even if he had survived, he would have paid the price in some small amount of causing the death of Sirius.

As the emotional pain wracked his body, a soft knock at the door brought him back to the present, fixing the wooden barrier to the outside with a hard glare. If Snape thought knocking would make him more inclined to open the door to the man, he would be sorely mistaken.

"I'm not letting you in Sir. I don't care if you hurl insults at me all day, I don't want to see you" he growled, tossing a nearby book at the door for good measure "Just leave me here till someone more competent comes around"

There was a chuckle at the door, one that sounded nothing like the Head of Slytherin House, and even more surprising, it sounded as if it belonged to a female, something the young man highly doubted Snape had ever touched in his life.

"As funny as it would be to see" the woman spoke, catching Harry off guard as he tried to place the vaguely familiar voice, "I highly doubt that even the savior of the Wizarding World wouldn't be able to stop Severus from going anywhere within his own home. Are you decent enough for me to come in"

It took a second for Harry to realize what the woman was talking about, as he looked down at his towel clad self. Suddenly wishing he didn't stash his wand away within the trunk at Grimmauld Place, so he could just magic some clothes onto him, Harry quickly tossed off the towel and slipped on the same gown as before, hoping it looked somewhat presentable. At least it was a far cry better than the tattered rags he'd been wearing for the past two weeks. Part of him idly wondered where those clothes were, though honestly, he was glad to be rid of them and the memories that came with them.

"Uhm, I'm decent" Harry half-whispered towards the door, slipping back under the blankets to afford himself another layer of protection from whomever was waiting beyond the door. As the door cracked open, Harry pressed himself a bit further into the bed.

"Hello Harry. I don't think we have ever met face to face, I am Narc-"

"You are Malfoy's Mum" Harry cut her off, the lady suppressing a grimace at the boys lack of respect towards others.

"Yes, though you may call me Mrs. Malfoy, as opposed to my sons Mum. I'm also your attending Healer, so if you would do me the pleasure of pulling back the covers so I can see how we are healing"

Harry eyed the witch warily, watching her every move as she conjured a chair and took a seat beside Harry's bed, smiling warmly at her patient. There was a patient in her eyes, as she didn't rush Harry to do as she asked. Those eyes, slate gray, spoke volumes about how much she seemed to care about Harry, his well-being and his comfort

"Don't worry Harry" she began, moving her chair a bit closer to the young man, taking notice of how he flinched when she brought her hand towards him, "I'm not going to hurt you, or rush you along, you can let me examine you when you are ready. Though, while we wait for you to get comfortable, want to tell me how you knew who I was. I don't ever recall having met you before in person"

For a split second, a warm blush seemed to crawl across his face, one the young man quickly willed away, coughing to try to avoid attracting attention to it. Fidgeting with the edge of the cover, his emerald eyes glanced just over Narcissa's shoulder, fixed on the door behind her.

"He looks just like you" he mumbled, clearly feeling just a tad bit embarrassed, though the older woman couldn't understand why "In the face and eyes. Though yours aren't as angry as his"

"Well I think he inherited that particular trait from his father, though I promise he is a nice boy. He can just be a bit...difficult at times when it comes to-"

"Lions" Harry offered, though he looked back at Narcissa as she shook her head

"More like people in general. A side effect of wanting to gain his father's approval. Though, there are moments when he does light up a room" she mused, though keeping the reason for her sons actions to herself.

"Anyway, I do hope you are comfortable Harry. I...I saw what that Muggle did to you. It wasn't right, I hope you know that"

"I know that" Harry hissed, though the answer didn't meet his eyes "I'm not some abused child or charity case. Besides, I've survived worse. I've lived with them all my life, so I guess this shouldn't have been too much of a surprise"

Narcissa was about to question that statement, when Harry pulled back the covers, a sign that he was ready to move past this conversation. Not wanting to press her luck, glad for what little information she was able to gleam from their conversation, Narcissa pulled out her wand and began to perform the more complicated set of diagnostic spells. While her wand waved with one hand, the other held a length of parchment, listing off everything that was wrong with Harry and other needed medical information.

"Hmm. It would seem your bones have set rather well, though I will adjust the spell keeping your arm stiff, make it a bit more comfortable. Your teeth have all grown back, and the cuts have healed and are free from infection, which is great. I am worried up your diet though Harry. How often did you get fe-eat" she quickly changed her wording, though both parties in the room knew that fed was the perfect word to describe his diet at the hands of Vernon.

"It...it was enough Mrs. Malfoy. Nothing like a Hogwarts feast, but it was enough I guess" his voice sounded shallow and resigned, as if being fed little to nothing was a given fact of life. Another note was added to the sheet in her hand, and it was one that made her eyes go wide. She looked at Harry and then back to the paper. Clearing her throat, she considered breaching this particular subject with the young man, but she knew that this...this was something that was far to out of her depth.

"Alright Harry, I'm done here. Now, after I readjust cast spell on your arm I want you to take one of the blue potions I'm going to give you. It is a Nutrient Potion. You are woefully underweight, and if we want you in top form, that means we have to put a bit of meat on your bones. Also, take the red one as well, it will help you get some deeper sleep, as you still need rest"

If the young man was going to put up a protest, he surely didn't show it, his face a mask of emotions. It was clear there was still something going on in his head, stuff that would take ages to be sorted out before he could feel any better. As she fixed the cast and gave Harry the potions, Narcissa couldn't help but look down at Harry, a heavy weight of pain lodging in her throat. To see her friends son like this, it brought the reality of the world that they lived in down upon her. More than that, it let her see the weight that Harry was carrying in a brand new light. No one should ever have to deal with so much misfortune in their life, and not at such a young age. As Harry took both potions, Narcissa carefully tucked the blankets around him with her wand, giving him a slim smile.

"Thank you Mrs. Malfoy" the boy yawned, as the power of the red potion began to overtake him

"You are very much welcome Harry, now sleep well. Good night"

As the door closed and Harry's world was plunged into slowly encroaching darkness, the young wizard couldn't help but feel a spark of warmth within him. He never had anyone say goodnight to him, let alone tuck him in. Was this what it was like to have someone care for you? Maybe she only did it since she was his patient, as Madame Pomfrey used to do the same thing for him. However the thought that she cared for him helped him drift off with some semblance of a smile on his face.

Meanwhile Snape was just finishing off his letter to Dumbledore, handing it off to Pippy to ensure a prompt delievery. As the house elf left with a crack, the Potions Master sat back in his chair, a grin of pleasure on his face. Soon, the Potter brat would be out of his house and life. Things would go back to normal and he could push all of this out of his mind. The summer had really just started, and he didn't want the dark cloud that was Potter's mere existence hanging around. Perhaps once Potter was gone, Snape could make use of his Pensive, and get rid of the memories of the past few hours.

He was taken out of his thoughts by a hand softly landing upon his shoulder. Looking upward, the soft and fair face of Narcissa met him, though it was clearly marked with lines of sadness and worry.

"Please don't tell me Potter tried to manipulate you with his sob stories. I told you, that boy is fully capable of dealing with his own issues without dragging other down with him"

"Is that what you really think, or just what you want to believe Severus" Narcissa shot back, removing her hand and taking up the seat beside the hearth. "Did you know that Harry had been hurting himself? Did you even bother to run even the most basics of checks over his body? If you did you would have known that he has multiple scars and wounds that are due to self inflictions"

"The Potter brat is a clutz Narcissa, he probably got them from just walking around. Potter is to vain to do harm to his own body" Snape reasoned, refusing to even entertain the notion that Potter would start hurting himself. The look on his friends face, however, seemed to speak the truth.

"Regardless of what you feel, the facts don't lie. His scars and bruises are healing, with the exception of ones around his arms. You know as well as I do that self inflicted wounds don't heal with magic"

"Then, by all means find Potter a Mind Healer to talk to. None of this is of my concern, not in the least bit. Besides" Snape continued, standing to his full height as the fireplace roared to life with the telltale green color of Floo travel "Soon this will be Dumbledore's problem, and not mine"

Said wizard popped from the Floo, dusting off soot from his robes. It was clear, if one were to go by the sleeping gown just peeking out from under his robes, Dumbledore was roused from his slumber. That being said, his eyes were showing no hints of being tired, and instead were twinkling as always.

"I take Harry has already been seen to by you Narcissa" Dumbledore addressed the Malfoy matriarch, speaking softly as if not to rouse a sleeping child, which may have been his plan.

"Potter is soundlessly asleep in my guest room HeadMaster, no need to whisper" Snape hissed, gesturing at the third, and unoccupied chair for the HeadMaster to take, "I assume that you have found someone to take him in"

"Actually, I have," Dumbledore stated, those eyes twinkling once more at his most trusted Spy, "First, allow me to apologise. I should have pressed Mrs. Figg for more updates on Harry's home life, as this is the first time that she has shown any form of worry for the young man. Harry had come to me about his home life, but I sadly paid little heed to them. After all, growing up surrounded by Muggles, I just assumed he wished to escape to world that he felt more connected to" the sincerity in his words reached Narcissa, who looked both saddened at the HeadMaster's admission of guilt, but also pleased that he was a strong enough man to admit it. Snape, on the other hand, had other things on his mind than the guilt of Dumbledore.

"That is all well and good HeadMaster, but what are we to do with the boy? I assume you managed to get in contact with Molly Weasley about this matter"

"Actually Severus, I have chosen not to employ the skills of Mrs. Weasley. Not only does she have her hands full with her own brood, but also the Burrow doesn't offer proper protection needed to keep Voldemort and his followers at bay. Sadly the only place that offers any form of protection for Harry would be Privet Drive, though, with Petunia gone, the protection spells tied to their blood will dry up shortly"

"So" Narcissa chimed in, feeling a bit left out of the covnersation "I take it you have found the whereabouts of Harry's aunt for him to stay? I don't think that would be the best action Sir, at least for Harry's sake"

"I agree Narcissa, which is why I have found another place for Harry to stay for the time being. It is probably the next safest place for Harry to be, as it is the last place Voldemort would ever check"

Snape felt his heart suddenly skip a beat. Those twinkling eyes and that calming tone. Dumbledore, while not easy at all to read, even with Legimancy, often wore his plots on his sleeve when they were about to pay off. It was clear from those glinting orbs that whatever he was going to say, Snape wasn't going to like it, and he knew deep down what it was.

"I know what you are thinking Severus, but it is the best place. Not only is it already heavily warded, but once Voldemort finds out that Harry is no longer at Privet Drive, this would be the last place he would check"

"I will not do it, Sir" the last word was filled with every ounce of venom and hatred that a single person could possibly muster. The fact that Dumbledore would even suggest the idea of Potter staying here even a minute longer was something that the Potions Master wouldn't stand for, "Potter is not fit to be in this house, nor am I prepared to care for your spoiled Lion"

"Severus" Narcissa stepped in, pushing Snape back to his chair, as he had stood in anger without even noticing, "As much as I hate to admit it, the HeadMaster does have a point. Harry isn't safe anywhere else. Even if you are in the Inner Circle with Voldemort, you can't know everything he is planning at all times. At least if he is here, Voldemort won't find him here"

Even under their, admittedly sound logic, Snape wasn't willing to accept it as a fact, nor put up with it. However, those ever twinkling eyes told Snape that the choice had already been made. He hated it when Dumbledore would do that, take matters into his own hands when it concerned his own life and well-being. Well, while he may have to watch the brat, he certainly had no thoughts of carrying for him in the least bit. Snape was already making a list of rules that the boy would follow. Perhaps even throw in a few chores to ensure his idle hands weren't mucking about too much in his home.

"Then it is settled" Dumbledore clapped his hands together, standing to take his leave, "Since Harry is asleep, I will visit him later this week, at least to sooth any misgivings he may have about his current situation. Narcissa, seeing as you have already taken it upon yourself to see to Harry's health from what Severus has told me, I'd like you to be the only one to keep up with his health. Now, if you excuse me I have plenty of paperwork to finish up, seeing as I am already up for the day. You both have a wonderful day" Dumbledore said, his calming voice filling the room with a bit of warmth as he activated the Floo and vanished back to Hogwarts.

"I can't believe that old coot would even consider this a valid option" Snape bemoaned, releasing pent up irritation at the position he suddenly found himself in. Of all the things Dumbledore had ever asked him to do, somehow having Harry 'Bloody' Potter live in his house was the worse of them all.

"I know it isn't ideal Severus, but it would only be for the summer. I am sure Dumbledore will find a better option after the school year starts. Now, if you excuse me, I must return home, Draco is probably awake already. I'll tell your Godson you said hello"

If Snape was listening, he gave no outward indication of such, instead he just sat there, staring at the ceiling, willing his eyes to burn holes into the room where Harry was current staying. The green flash of the Floo brought him back to reality, as the silence crept back in. It was much more soothing to hear nothing, it gave him solace. Perhaps if he could keep Potter busy, then the boy's natural inclination to get into trouble would be dampened. Besides, Pippy could use a bit of help keeping the manor clean. Snape grinned deviously, as he pictured Potter toiling away at cleaning task the Muggle way. Yes, that would make this all the easier. If Potter thought he was going to stay here without some form of payment, he was going to be so sorely surprised.