Harry waited, wondering what the best course of action would be. Run for it? Try to distract Snape? Pretend to look surprised that Dobby was there? Act like Dobby had just arrived? Pretend like he (Harry) had gone crazy and did not know what was happening? Burst in tears and beg for mercy?

"Dobby," Snape looked down his long nose at the little house elf, "that is your name, correct?"

"Oh, yes," Dobby gave a low bow of homage, "Mr. Snape is very good to Dobby and very kind to take in Harry Potter for the summer. Dobby has seen Harry Potter’s other home, and Dobby is feeling that Mr. Snape has seen too and is very sorry for Harry Potter –"

"Yes, yes," Snape said quickly. "Tell me, Dobby, when did you arrive precisely?"

The house elf edged back a step or two. "Dobby arrives last night, sir. Very sorry, very sorry to barge right in, but Harry Potter is insisting that Mr. Snape not know. Dobby feels very bad, but Harry Potter is asking Dobby not to –"

"Dobby was just leaving," Harry hastily hushed the house elf. "He just stopped by to say hello, and now he’s going."

"But of course," Snape smiled coldly, sending little shivers up Harry’s spine. "I wouldn’t dream of refusing one of Mr. Potter’s fans. But seeing how you’ve been here since last night, perhaps you would like to return to Hogwarts now. As you have seen for yourself, Mr. Potter is quite well, content and comfortable. Well, for now at least. If you would come down to my study before you leave – I have a letter for the headmaster."

Snape swept out of the bedroom, and Dobby loped after him, eager to please. Harry trailed after both of them, not wanting to stay in his room and wait for Snape to return. The walk downstairs was ominously quiet, and Harry found himself hoping it would never end. There had to be someway to convince Snape that he was not at fault, that he had not lied, and that he deserved no punishment. Snape didn’t look too angry, but that made it even worse. Harry did not like a quietly-angry Snape who glares spoke louder than his cold voice. To avoid the man’s wrath, the trick was too look innocent and honest as if you had nothing to hide, a look that Harry was finding harder and harder to adopt.

"Ah, here we are," Snape stepped towards the desk and pulled out a sealed envelope. "If you’ll be so kind to deliver this. And should you ever feel compelled to visit my humble abode again, I would prefer for you to use the front door so I might be aware that I have a visitor."

"Yes, Mr. Snape," Dobby bowed again, his nose nearly touching the hard wood floor. "Mr. Snape is very kind to Dobby – Dobby has not forgotten how Mr. Snape stopped Master Malfoy from hurting him, no, Dobby is not forgetting. Dobby thinks Harry Potter is very lucky to be living with Mr. Snape –"

"Yes, perhaps Dobby would say goodbye now," Snape sounded a little annoyed, and Harry could tell that he was about to cross his arms, never a good sign.

"Bye, Dobby," Harry said, wishing he could get the house elf to stay for a little longer. If Dobby saw the kinds of punishment that Snape used to discipline his new ward – well, surely the house elf wouldn’t leave the boy who had saved him with such a tyrant. But Harry could see no way to do that, not with Snape standing right there.

"Goodbye, Harry Potter," the house elf beamed at him. Apparently, Dobby took Harry’s glum expression to be one of contentment and Snape’s stern look to be a fatherly expression of concern for his young charge. Clutching the envelope in one hand, Dobby smiled happily, then disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

Harry waited for the yelling to start. He held his breath, not wanting to make the smallest sign that would send Snape into a fit of anger. An alarm started ringing in the corner of the study, and Harry wanted to hiss at it to stay quiet and not provoke Snape further.

"I’m going to make sure the wards are up and solid," Snape said shortly. He pointed his wand at the alarm, and the ringing stopped. "You stay in here. And do not touch anything." Snape briefly glanced at another corner where sat something that looked like a smaller version of the Pensieve Snape kept in his office at school.

"Yeah, right," Harry muttered under his breath after Snape had stalked out the door. "Like I’m going to start snooping around that again. ‘I don’t want to live until the end of summer, so I guess I’ll just take another dive into his memories.’ Even I’m not that stupid."

Why would Snape need so many Pensieves? Dumbledore was always putting his thoughts in one, banking up memories to be used later. Harry supposed it was because Dumbledore had a lot to remember. Maybe Snape had a lot to forget.

Harry glanced back over to the Pensieve, remembering the shining colors that glistening around the thoughts. Maybe once you placed your thoughts in there, you no longer needed to think about them. If you had bad memories or painful ones or even embarrassing ones, perhaps once they were placed somewhere else, you could stop going over them again and again.

What Snape had endured at the hands of James that day – Harry was sure the potions master was eager to forget. It had been so cruel, picking on someone just because they were there and you didn’t like them. So selfish, and mean, and downright nasty. Harry wished he had his own Pensieve to tuck away the memory of seeing Snape’s memory. Maybe some things were better left untouched, even if you were wrong about what you thought was right and what had happened.

"So happy to see you following an order for once," Snape’s low, silky voice filled the room, and Harry barely managed not to jump with surprise. "I half-expected you to be inside my Pensieve, rummaging for another horrible memory to throw at me."

"I didn’t touch anything," Harry insisted.

"Good," Snape marched over to his desk and opened a drawer. "Your little friend has gone back to Hogwarts, and the wards are up, and my house elves are quite alarmed that an intruder has been here for nearly a day without them knowing. They offered to punish themselves quite severely, but I wouldn’t hear of it. It isn’t their fault."

"Dobby wasn’t going to hurt anyone," Harry shifted from foot to foot, not liking Snape’s tone. It promised nothing good.

"No, but that did not make them feel any better, nor did it help me feel secure about the wards," Snape glanced through the drawer. "I will have to make them tighter, starting this evening. But for now, I have other concerns to address." He pulled up a long, flat, thick ruler from the drawer. "Might as well get this over with – come for your punishment, Potter."

"What?" Harry’s eyes flew wide-open. "No! You aren’t serious. Nothing happened! It was just Dobby."

"This isn’t about Dobby," Snape walked around the desk and pulled an armless chair into the middle of the room. "I told you what the consequences of lying were last night after repeatedly asking you to tell me the truth. You refused, disobeyed me, and now you’ll pay the price for your willfulness." Snape sat down in the chair.

"No, can’t we talk about this?" Harry pleaded. He hated the way he was sounding like a little child, whining and begging to get out of a spanking, but the ruler looked so hard, and the way Snape was clenching it -!

"There is nothing to talk about. You defied me simply because you wanted to. Had you hidden someone to protect them, or been tricked into it, I would reconsider, but you had no reason to hide that creature other than to disobey me."

"I was lonely," Harry blurted out, trying another angle. "After being at school all year without everyone, and now just you – I was, you know . . ."

Snape shook his head. "Had you told me last night that you invited a house elf here because you missed your friends and wanted some company, I would have listened to you, and we might have reached an agreement. This is not about you being loneliness or missing your friends. This is about your lying, a bad habit of yours that I intend to break over the summer if it’s the last thing I do."

"You just assumed it was my fault," Harry said the next excuse that popped into his head. "You barged in last night and started blaming me. You didn’t even consider that I might not be to blame – you instantly thought I was guilty."

"Which you were," Snape replied calmly. "I understand that you don’t want me to think you’re always in the wrong, but again we could have talked about that last night after you told me the truth. The time for talking and making excuses is over. If you had even come to me this morning or told me at breakfast that the house elf was here, I would have understood. But you were caught, and now you want to squirm out of it. I know you’re used to adults escaping their promises to you or letting you get away with disobedience because they don’t want to bother with reprimanding you. I know their avoidance makes you feel cheated and ill-used, and I refuse to let you feel that way about my guardianship. I intend to keep my promises to you, which includes punishing you for lying. No need to thank me, just come here and show how appreciative you are that I keep my word."

Harry had no idea how Snape turned things around so quickly, but he was less inclined to obey than ever, regardless of Snape’s loyalty to his ward and his word. He racked his brain, trying to think of a good excuse for lying, anything that would let him escape his impending punishment. However, he could come up with nothing better than "I don’t want to be smacked with the ruler," and somehow he doubted that Snape would consider that a legitimate reason to be pardoned.

"Potter, come here," Snape’s voice was like ice. "If I have to tell you again, I will lengthen your punishment."

Harry fidgeted, nearly stomping his foot in frustration. "Already I won’t be able to sit for two days."

Snape’s expression softened the tiniest bit. "That was an exaggeration on my part. I won’t punish you anymore than you deserve. But I am serious about the lying ending. Come here."

It seemed like a mile between him and Snape, and Harry dragged his feet every step of the way, trying to slow down time as much as he could. If he had a timeturner with him, Harry would have used it to get as far away from Snape as possible. Why, oh, why was it him stuck with the potions master all summer? Why couldn’t it be Malfoy or one of the other Slytherians? Snape would enjoy their sly attitudes and sneaky dispositions. In fact, Snape would expect lying from them – it was practically a requirement to be in Slytherian. But when Harry from Gryffindor lied, oh, all hell broke loose!

"Other students lie at school," Harry was almost whining as he stood four paces from Snape. "You never spank them."

"That is different," Snape said his favorite phrase, the one Harry was beginning to hate. "At school, you can have detention and house points taken away. Besides, I am not anyone’s guardian at Hogwarts while here I’m yours."

"I wish I had never signed that stupid thing," Harry scowled.

"Moreover," Snape continued as if he had not spoken, "how would you know how I punish other students at school? You are not witness to my discipline, and I highly doubt anyone talks too much about their own punishments, especially members of my own house."

Before Harry had time to think about that, Snape reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling Harry forward. Snape undid the button of Harry’s trousers, but Harry jerked back.

"You can do it, or I can, but they’re coming down," Snape promised.

Scowling and groaning and feeling awful in general, Harry unzipped his dark trousers and pulled them down to his knees, leaving him in dark boxers. He let Snape guide him over his knees, and Harry hoped it would all be over soon.

Then Snape pulled down his boxers.

"No!" Harry tried to get up, but Snape pushed a hard arm down on his back, "no, you didn’t say anything about my shorts. You can’t!"

"When I said trousers, I meant shorts as well," Snape growled. "And I consider them part of the punishment because you tried to stall and distract me. Now, I’m going to ask you a few questions, and I expect you to answer." Snape brought the ruler down sharply.

Being spanked bare hurt so much worse than with trousers to cushion the blows. Harry felt his eyes start to prickle after the first smack, and he had no idea how he was going to answer all the questions that Snape would ask.

"First off, are you going to lie to me anymore?" with smacks every few words.

"Ow! No, no lying," Harry promised, trying not to struggle.

"Are you going to disobey so blatantly again?"

"No, oww! Never!"

For the next ten minutes, Snape shot out questions, heavy-laden with whacks from the ruler. Harry answered back, fighting desperately against tears and sobs that rose up. He hated getting spanked, he hated having to answer questions this way, but most of all, he hated crying in front of Snape. If he could just take his punishment stoically, Harry knew he could endure the embarrassment of a spanking, but to cry like a baby –

"Do you think I like doing this?" Snape fired at him. "Do you think I like punishing you this way?"

"Yes!" Harry cried rebelliously.

"No, I do not," Snape shot back. "Believe it or not, I have better things to do this summer than paddle your behind, but I promised Dumbledore I would have you alive come autumn, and I fully intend to keep my promise."

"I wasn’t in any danger," Harry wondered how long he would have to stay over Snape’s lap, draped out in that awkward, humiliating position. "It was just Dobby."

"It’s the principle of the thing, Potter. I asked you if someone had broken through, and you looked at me, straight at me, and said no. You lied. I assumed then that something was wrong with the wards, or that something invisible and dangerous had broken through. Next time, what should I think? What if something dangerous does break through, and I ask you again? If you plead ignorant, should I assume that you are lying again? Should I try to force the truth from you, yell at you until you tell me what I want? If I always think you’re lying, what happens when you tell me the truth? If I can’t believe you or trust you, then you will always be in danger here."

Harry felt about two inches tall. His insides were writhing, and he felt torn to pieces. Snape delivered three horrible smacks, that made Harry yelp, and then the potions master put the ruler away. With a swish of his wand, Harry was put back on his feet, and his clothes were pulled up and fastened. Harry kept wiping his tears away and resisted the urge to rub his aching bottom. Snape must have an arm of iron to deliver such terrific wallops, never seeming to tire.

"Believe me, Potter," Snape threatened, still sitting, "if I ever find out that you have been lying to me again about anything, big or small, I will charm that ruler to whack at you for a whole afternoon until you can’t sit for longer than a second. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," Harry sniffed.

"I know you and I have our differences, but we have to put them aside for this summer. I expect you to obey me because I plan to see you through the next two months whether you like it or not. This time was not a misunderstanding or an accident – it was willful and direct defiance. I am very, very disappointed in you."

Harry couldn’t help it – fresh tears sprung up, and the ache deepened in his chest. He didn’t understand why Snape’s words should hurt him so much, but they did, and he wished more than anything that he could tell Snape everything. About the Necklace and Malfoy Manor and Sirius and all of it. He wanted Snape to know, Snape needed to know, but Harry knew that Snape would never let him go through with the plan because Snape had hated Sirius . . .

"All right," Snape stood up and placed a heavy hand on the back of Harry’s neck, "upstairs with you. You’re going to bed for the rest of the day without supper."

It would have been a cruel punishment at the Dursleys where he ate so little, but after the huge meals at Snapdragon Manor, Harry seriously doubted that he would miss one meal. But to go to bed at five o’clock – he would never fall asleep.

However, as Snape marched him upstairs, Harry admitted to himself that his eyes hurt along with his backside, and he didn’t feel like doing anything else other than resting quietly.

Once in the bedroom, Snape transfigured Harry’s clothes into pajamas and pointed at the bed. As Harry crawled into it, he wondered what was going to happen once they were both back at school. He could just picture Snape calling him to the front of potions class and having him bend over his lap or sending him to bed early as a form of detentions. Absolutely awful.

"Stay in bed," Snape warned, "or the hairbrush will smack you until you do."

Alarmed, Harry glanced at the wood-back hairbrush that was resting quietly on the bedside table. He hated charmed objects that stood as a warning to obey Snape or else. It was just so demeaning, so utterly humiliating, so Snape-like a threat . . .

"Good night, Potter," Snape said crossly, turning to leave.

"No, wait," Harry called out, his voice still thick with tears.

When Snape turned back, ominously gazing at his troublesome ward, Harry looked away as he said, "I-I am sorry – about lying, you know. I didn’t mean to – I should have told you, but –"

Harry wanted to say more; he wanted protest that he didn’t like always feeling like he was in the wrong, he didn’t like people blaming him for everything. But Harry trailed off uncertainly, and Snape nodded.

"Yes, I’m sure you are sorry. Next time, it would be better if you were sorry before you got caught. Good night."

Alone in bed at a ridiculously early time, Harry stared at the far window. He couldn’t keep doing this – he had to stop. Tomorrow, he was going to get the Necklace – he would steal a few potions from Snape’s store that would change his appearance so he would not be easily recognized, and then he was going to Malfoy Manor. He would ask Mrs. Malfoy, and from what he had heard about and seen from Narcissa Malfoy, he knew he could trick her into showing him her jewels. A little flattery, and she would flounce her precious treasures in front of him. Once she brought out the Necklace, he would grab it and put it on before she could stop him.

It had to work, he had to succeed. Failure was not an option. Besides, it had to be destiny – what with Malfoy Manor being so close and the Necklace being there. That couldn’t be coincidence, not with everything falling into place. Even with Snape insisting on no more lying – that was really Fate telling Harry that he needed to move now so he would no longer be lying. Once he got everything right, everything back to the way it should be, then he could start telling the truth about everything. Harry could just picture Sirius’s face when he told his godfather what he had done. Sirius would laughed, a burst of laughter that sounded just like a bark.

------

At breakfast the next morning, Snape acted as if nothing had happened earlier. He was his usual dour self, all glowering looks and cold silence. The only difference was that he served Harry twice the normal amount of food he usually got at breakfast, as if to make up for the missed supper.

Harry, who was ready for action, did not want to eat. He picked at his food, afraid to put anything solid in his turning stomach, and he barely sipped at the foamy hot chocolate in a tall mug.

"Are you sick, or simply pouting?" Snape cut right to the point after he watched Harry nibble at a crust of toast.

"What? No, I’m fine. I-I was wondering if I could stay out a little longer this morning, and maybe fly on my broom?" Harry could not look at Snape for fear that he would give himself away.

"Though my better judgement says no," Snape frowned, "I suppose you could fly for a while. You haven’t flown for a few days, but no testing the barrier, understand?"

"Yes, sir." It wasn’t a lie. Harry was not planning to test the barrier; he was planning to break right through it.

"Well, eat a little more, and then you may go," Snape directed.

After forcing himself to swallow a few bites, Harry got up from the table. He had just reached the door, when he turned back impulsively. "Snape?"

"Yes?" Snape ground out, not bothering to correct the informal title.

"I just wanted to say –" Harry stopped, heart pounding furiously in his chest. "I just wanted to tell you –"

"Yes?" Snape prompted.

"Just wanted to say . . . thanks. You know, in case I don’t say it again."

Snape raised a skeptical eyebrow. He was about to question his ward further, looking very suspicious at such an odd statement. But he decided against it and simply waved a hand for Harry to go on.

Harry rushed down the hall and tried the doorknob to the potions store. It was unlocked, and he dashed in. He had helped stock the store so he knew exactly what he was looking for: a small, brown bottle tucked at the far back. It would disguise him for an hour, long enough to do what he had to do at Malfoy Manor.

Harry pushed the bottle into the pocket of his trousers and ran for the door. Snape had not left the dining room, and no alarm bells were ringing so Harry hoped he was safe. His broom was waiting outside, but a light rain was sprinkling as he dashed into the gardens. He kept going, not wanting to slow in case Snape called him back out of the rain. Harry swung onto his broom and flew as fast as he could.

The rain did not ease off – if anything, it turned into a drizzle that splattered onto his glasses. Harry wished he had brought a cloak. It had turned cold, and a cloak would help to hide his thin frame which he doubt the potion would change.

Up ahead the trees broke off, and the huge manor came into view. Harry flew down and got his broom. He carefully placed the Firebolt against a tree. He could feel the barrier buzzing as he uncorked the potions. He raised it to his lips and began swallowing quickly. The stuff did not taste good, but Harry was beyond carrying what it tasted like.

He threw the bottle into the woods and heard it break against a tree. He could feel his face changing. His nose grew flat, and he could see wisps of hair by his face turning lighter, almost blond. He wondered if his eyes had changed.

He took a deep breath and stared ahead at the looming mansion. He had to do this, there was no turning back now.

Harry exhaled heavily, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. Then he stepped through the barrier.