“You’re doing it wrong,” Harry told Draco.

“What?” Draco turned around angrily, sending little spatters of tan paint UP in the air. Fortunately, there was a drop-cloth on the floor to catch splatters.

“You’re stroking back and forth. It’s up and down,” Harry demonstrated for him with his own brush.

“How do you know?” Draco challenged. “Are you an expert painter, now?”

“No, but I’ve painted a wall before,” Harry retorted.

“Where?” Draco demanded.

“At my relatives,” Harry replied.

“Oh, them,” Draco shrugged. “I don’t know why you would want to help those Muggles. Seems like you could do it a lot faster with a wand.”

“You’re using too much paint,” Harry told him, nodding to Draco’s brush, which had drips of paint running down the wooden handle and Draco’s hand.

“No, I’m not. If we use more, we won’t have to do a second coat.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” Harry objected. “If you use too much, the paint will clump before it can dry.”

“You don’t know that,” Draco decided. “Look, you paint your way, and I’ll do it my way.”

Snape watched silently from the doorway of the library, observing the boys as they painted. Harry worked much more efficiently than Draco did. Draco gave the wall half-hearted swiped with the brush, and then realizing that Harry was farther ahead on his side of the wall, Draco attacked with frantic vigor, splattering paint everywhere.

Half an hour later, they finished the first coat, and Snape came closer to investigate.

The difference was noticeable: Harry’s side was covered with thin paint that showed the original gray underneath, but the paint was even and, being acrylic, almost dry. Draco’s side covered the gray, but the paint had clotted in areas, sometimes turning into long drips that ran down the wall.

“Harry, well done,” Snape nodded.

Harry grinned and looked down at the floor in bashful delight at such praise.

“Draco, poorly done,” Snape frowned.

“What?” Draco protested.

“I told you to go slowly and cover the wall evenly with a thin coat. I also heard Harry advising you to do the same thing. You ignored us both, and as a result, I have to remove your work.”

Snape cast a spell at the wall, and the clumped paint disappeared, leaving half the wall gray again with little splatters of red and blue paint from the big prank.

“You can start over,” Snape directed. “Harry, you may go flying on your broom for the rest of the afternoon.”

Draco shot daggers at Harry with his eyes, but Harry tried not to look too pleased. Then feeling a little sorry for Draco, he told Snape, “He tried, and it’s his first time. Does he have to do the whole thing over again? Couldn’t he do half or maybe use his wand?”

“No wands,” Snape ordered, but he relented a little and said, “Draco, use the rest of the paint in the bucket, and then you can go play as well.”

“Can we both go flying?” Harry asked eagerly as Draco sighed and picked his brush.

“Yes, but no racing and no tricks,” Snape said.

That night at dinner, Harry tried to hide his bruised ribs from falling off his broom when attempting to do five flips in a row in the air. And Draco silently nursed an aching arm that had slammed into a tree branch when he raced Harry from the edge of the lake to the highest tree on the estate. And Snape swatted them both and sent them to bed early for being so disobedient.

------

All too soon, Draco’s visit came to an end. Both boys clamored for a little while longer, the evening before Draco had to leave.

“Come Snape, he just got here.”

“Yeah, Mother will drag me all over Diagon Alley to find my school stuff. Tell her I want to stay here, and she can go do it alone.”

But Snape had refused. “No, boys, Draco has to go home. He’s been here two weeks, and school starts in eleven days.”

“Eleven days! How can it be eleven days? The summer just got started,” Harry had complained. “It feels like yesterday I got here.”

“Believe me, it’s been longer than that,” Snape had said darkly, and Harry didn’t argue further.

Narcissa Malfoy arrived at Malfoy Manor the next morning, but Snape was going to take Draco over there, and Harry had to tell him bye in the entrance hall.

Draco’s luggage was piled up near the door, and he and Harry looked at each other awkwardly while Snape waited.

“Well, bye,” Draco finally spoke.

“Yeah, bye,” Harry said, not knowing where to look.

“I’ll see you in ten days,” Draco reminded him.

“Ten days, it’s back to Hogwarts,” Harry agreed.

Silence lapsed, and then Draco spoke, “You just wait, Potter. I’m going to tell Crabbe and Goyle to have at you every chance they get.”

“I’ll be ready,” Harry claimed enthusiastically. “And Ron and Hermione are going to make your life miserable.”

“Not if I get you first!”

“Oh, go ahead and try,” Harry challenged. “You’ll never know what hit you. This year will be about making you regret you ever stepped foot on Hogwarts.”

‘I’ll make you wish you had never been born.”

“I’ll get you into detention every night!”

“I’ll get you into detention with Filch!”

“I’ll hang all your clothes from the Gryffindor tower.”

“I’ll write Harry loves McGonagall on the Slytherin walls.”

“I’ll get you suspended.”

“I’ll get you beaten up daily.”

“All right, boys,” Snape cut through their ranting. “Shake hands and let Draco leave, or I’ll get both of you.”

Harry thrust his hand out and took Draco’s. They shook hands firmly, and Draco hissed, “You tell anyone what happened here –”

“Never happened,” Harry nodded in complete agreement.

“I look forward to beating you up in the fall,” Draco said as he walked towards his tuff.

“Not as much as I look forward to getting you,” Harry promised.

Draco waved goodbye and stepped out the door as Snape followed him.

------

It was very boring once Draco left. That was the truth, and Harry knew it as he threw himself in an armchair in Snape’s study and let out a long sigh.

Snape looked up, annoyed. “Potter, I’m trying to work here.”

“No, you’re not,” Harry said in a cross tone. “You’re looking through papers. Your work is done in a lab over some nasty potion that stinks up the whole place.”

“Along with teaching potions, I also assist in writing textbooks and research aids,” Snape told him.

“That’s why they’re so awful to read,” Harry muttered.

Snape glared at his ward. “Was there something you needed, or are you trying to irritate me for the fun of it?”

“There’s nothing to do,” Harry complained.

“Read a book.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Study for school.”

“Don’t want to.”

“Go flying.”

“No fun by myself.”

“You’re worse than a toddler,” Snape told him, trying to write down notes on a piece of parchment.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Harry opted, sitting up straight.

“Where?” Snape glanced around, bewildered.

“I don’t know. Somewhere. Just for the day. Let’s go back to London. Or a nearby town. We could find a bookstore for you, and then we could go get some ice cream.”

“We’re not going to get ice cream,” Snape said sharply.

“A candy bar?”

“No.”

“Joke sweets?”

“Potter!”

“You never let me do anything,” Harry flopped back in the chair. “It’s all work, work, work with you.”

“Speaking of that,” Snape reached for a piece of paper from a drawer, “I have a list of chores I want you to do.”

“What?” Harry was outraged as he took the paper. “I’ve been weeding the garden forever.”

“Yes, and if you’re so bored with nothing else to do, maybe that list will help out.”

The chores on the list weren’t that hard: sweep the floors, wash the front windows, tidy up his room, put the books back in the library, sweep the front steps off.

Harry glanced quickly at Snape and decided to try one tactic. “I hate doing chores,” he whispered with a mournful look. “Growing up I was always given so many chores to do, some I wasn’t even big enough to do, like wash the dishes or wax the floor.”

“So that list brings back bad memories?” Snape asked gently.

“Uh-huh,” Harry nodded, eyes full of sadness.

“Liar,” Snape said shortly.

“Hey!” Harry blinked.

“Don’t think those sad puppy eyes will work with me,” Snape told him, reaching for a fresh sheet of parchment. “You told Draco that you used to paint at your relatives, but that chore didn’t seem to bring back any bad memories.”

“Well, it did!” Harry protested.

“It did not. There are certain chores you can do at certain ages, and I don’t believe in giving little children too many chores. But you are sixteen, and you are in my house, taking up lots of space and eating enough for two people –”

“You said I needed to eat to grow taller,” Harry objected.

“– And you’re going to do something other than sit on a chair and moan,” Snape continued decisively. “That list won’t take you three hours, and you can divide it up into two days if you like. I admit I didn’t have you do that many chores at the beginning of summer. You have been ill and we were working through some important issues and character problems, but you are fine now and just being lazy.”

“Aww,” Harry groaned. “But I only have ten days of holiday left.”

“As you get closer and closer to the end of your education, you will have less and less free time,” Snape told him patiently. “You will have to spend time working, and when you have your own house, you will either have to clean it yourself or hire it out which can be expensive.”

“I could get a house elf,” Harry commented, not quite meeting Snape’s eyes.

“You could, but you will have to do some chores yourself, especially when you first start working. Even with your fame, first jobs don’t pay that much.”

“I have my parents’ money,” Harry reminded him.

“But that won’t last forever,” Snape replied. “And magic only goes so far in helping.”

“Like with Ron’s family?” Harry asked. He hated to bring up money with Ron’s family, but he wanted to see what Snape would say.

Snape nodded. “Exactly. More children means tighter finances, especially with just one parent working. Your whole focus changes from yourself to providing from your family. You could have a wife that would work outside the home, but she might need to stop if she has a child, and then it’s up to you. You would want to be supportive of her decision while at the same time bringing in the only income, wouldn’t you?”

Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at Snape. “I think I could do it.”

“I never said you couldn’t. But your focus would have to shift, especially from what you want to what your family needs. Quickly, tell me what you would like to buy right now.”

“A new broom,” Harry said before he could think. His own answer surprised himself. The broom was not even three years’ old, and it had been a gift from Sirius. Why would he want a new one?

Snape also looked surprised, but not because of the Sirius connection. “A new broom? Harry James Potter, you have a broom that works perfectly fine. It’s newer than most of the students’ brooms, and it flies very fast. Why would you want a new one?”

Harry squirmed the least bit. “We-e-ell, there was this really brilliant one I saw in Diagon Alley. It’s supposed to be faster than my Firebolt, and some other great stuff on it, too.”

“You are not buying a new broom,” Snape pointed a finger at him.

“Why not?” Harry asked peevishly. “I don’t have a family now, and I would just take a little gold from my account, and I would make it up in interest in a few years.”

“Well, fortunately, you are underage so you need an adult with you to take money out. Those are the rules, and I’m grateful or you would be spending your parents’ money left and right on brooms and candy and ice cream.”

“Would not,” Harry muttered.

Snape looked at him closely as if considering something. “Has anyone ever talked to you about money? For instance, when you go to Hogsmead, where do you get the pocket money to spend?”

Harry shrugged. “Whoever I’m with at the bank lets me get some extra, and it’s usually enough to last the whole year. We don’t go to Hogsmead that much, and you can’t really buy anything at Hogwarts unless you order it by Owl.”

“So you’ve never had practice handling money, or saving money, or anything like that?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “Why?”

Snape looked at him for a long moment then said, “All right, I’ll tell you what. You’ll have chores to do here every week, and if you do them well and without complaining, I’ll give you a weekly allowance of say, eight Sickles?”

Harry blinked, taken aback.

“If you work hard on your attitude and getting to bed on time and studying,” Snape continued, “I’ll make it an even Galleon.”

“But the summer’s almost over,” Harry reminded him.

“There is no reason you can’t continue into the school year,” Snape said easily. “I always have chores around my office and classroom that need to be done. I usually have students in detention do them, but I could always scrap up some more. If you came every Tuesday and Thursday night for an hour or two, I think that would be worth the eight Sickles. And if you study hard and don’t get into too much trouble, that would be good a Galleon.”

“Really?” Harry was excited.

“Absolutely. And if you save up enough Galleons, you may buy whatever broom you like.”

“All right!” Harry cheered.

He grabbed the list and headed for the door. He stopped in the doorway and glanced back. “What about earlier this summer?”

“What about it?”

“I did a few chores then,” Harry said hesitantly.

“And so the greed begins,” Snape observed. But he relented and asked, “How many times did you weed the garden?”

“At least nine times,” Harry remembered. “And I painted the walls.”

“Punishments don’t count,” Snape said sharply.

“Then I weeded the garden only six times,” Harry corrected.

“Fine,” Snape pulled open a drawer and took out a few coins. “I’d say each time counts as a half-week’s worth of work, so that’s three weeks. And here is three Galleons.”

He dropped them into Harry’s hand, and Harry gazed down at the three gold coins. It was the first time he could ever remember earning money. They felt good against his palm, and he grinned widely as he looked up at Snape and tucked the coins into his pocket.

“Oh, thanks. I’ll get started on the other chores. I’m going to get that broom.”

He dashed off, and Snape shook his head as he returned to his work. The last flying broom Snape had seen in Diagon Alley had been priced at 300 Galleons. Even if Harry worked hard and got his allowance in full every week, it would still take him nearly six years to save up for a broom. But Snape saw no reason to crush the boy’s dreams. Anything that would get him to work and keep him busy and out of trouble.

------

“Are you coming with me on the train?” Harry asked that night over cups of hot tea, his own special cup tight in his hand.

“I’ll be on the train, but I can’t sit with you,” Snape replied. “I have to oversee some new first year students.”

“Oh,” Harry chuckled. “Poor things, they’ll have a fun train ride with you.”

“I am not that bad,” Snape gave him a half-hearted scowl.

“You were horrible my first year,” Harry pointed out. “I lived in constant dread of every potions class.”

“I hate all my first year classes,” Snape retorted. “They’re always blowing something up or spilled toxic poisons and then crying when I send them to the hospital wing to get patch up. And you were a brat your first year.”

“I was not,” Harry said, but he couldn’t help grinning.

“Oh, no?”

“Well, maybe a little. The castle seemed so big. I kept thinking I would get lost. And there were so many people to keep track of. I don’t know how you remember everyone’s name.”

“I try not to,” Snape poured himself some more tea.

Harry took a few sips of the sweet hot tea, and then he glanced up slyly. “Do you remember in my second year, so three years ago, when someone chucked a firecracker in on of the caldrons, and it blew up, hitting everyone with the potion?”

“I do,” Snape said coldly.

“And you never caught the culprit?”

“Yes?” even more suspicious.

“Well, you should have, because he’s sitting right across from you,” Harry chortled.

Snape’s eyes widened in outrage. “That was you?”

“Indeed, it was,” Harry kept grinning.

“I knew it! I just knew it, and I told the headmaster, but he didn’t believe me.”

“Oh, come on,” Harry leaned back casually. “Dumbledore doesn’t believe I can doing anything wrong. I used to be so scared that he would suspend me for the things I did, all the rules I broke, but he wasn’t going to make me leave Hogwarts ever. I’m his favorite.”

Snape glared at his smug expression. “I swore if I ever had proof of the guilty party, I would get that student suspended.”

“You’re always trying to get me suspended,” Harry shrugged. “But I’m not going anywhere. And it was the second year – no one learns anything in their second year. We were just having fun whenever we could.”

Snape huffed and fumed and glowered, but all he said was, “If I had proof back then, I would spanked you once and for all.”

“You can’t sp– er, do that at Hogwarts,” Harry protested.

“Don’t be so sure,” Snape said sinisterly.

His smugness gone, Harry sat up straight to object, “But – but you won’t be my guardian at school. I mean, it ends on the first day of school.”

“There are ways to continue it into the school year.”

“There are?”

“Well, would you want the guardianship to continue if it could?” Snape asked slowly.

“No! Well, I don’t know,” Harry shifted, nearly sloshing the tea out of his cup. “I guess so. I mean, I’m not sure.”

“Eloquent as ever.”

Harry scowled. “I meant I don’t want you to drag me up in front of the classroom by the ear and punish me in front of everyone.”

“You wouldn’t be taking potions,” Snape reminded him. “I would only see you at meals and on the evenings you come to work and if you chose to stop by my quarters occasionally.”

“Why?” was all Harry could say.

“Why would you stop by? Maybe to tell me how your classes are going or what you were up to. You wouldn’t have to stop by –”

“No,” Harry interrupted, “why would you want to continue the guardianship?”

“It seems to work,” Snape answered carelessly.

“Seems to work! I’ve been terrible this summer. We’ve fought, and I blew things up –”

“You do that anywhere you go,” Snape noted.

“– And I fought with Draco and nearly died – ”

“Once again, that happens to you on a regular basis.”

“Why would you want to?” Harry demanded.

“Because.”

“Because what?” Harry prodded.

“Because you’re a good boy,” Snape set his teacup aside.

“Excuse me?” Harry wasn’t sure if he had heard clearly.

“Oh, I admit, you can been quarrelsome and rebellious and naughty, but at the end of the day, you mean well. You have a good heart, and you try to do the right thing most of the time. And there’s no reason you couldn’t do ever better with someone to look over for you at Hogwarts.”

Harry sat speechless.

“You’ve shown remarkable improvement over the summer,” Snape went on in his easy tone. “You’re not the same upset, out-of-control teenager that dropped out of my fireplace two months ago. You’ve studied hard, worked hard with only a little complaining, and tried to change your behavior for the better. I think at school, with my guidance, you could do even better in studying, researching, relating to friends, playing Quidditch –”

“Quidditch!” Harry exclaimed. “You want me to get better in Quidditch?”

Snape frowned the least bit. “You do very well, Potter, I admit, but let’s face it. Your approach at the Seeker is not planned, and you rely on your skills to move fast rather than tracking the patterns of the Snitch.”

Harry’s mouth dropped open. He would have never guessed that Snape cared about Quidditch other than his house beating Harry’s house. Which brought up a very good point.

“But we’re in opposite houses! Won’t it look like I’ve gone over to the enemy?”

Snape raised a wary eyebrow. “That’s exaggerating a little. The houses are in competition, of course, but they were created to foster a sense of community, not tear each other apart. But that’s getting away from what we were talking about. Would you want the guardianship to continue if it could?”

“I – I – I don’t know what to say,” Harry stammered.

“That’s a first,” Snape noted dryly.

“I’m just surprised. Before this summer, I was sure you hated me.”

“And now?”

“Well, now, I don’t know,” Harry considered it and then raised determined eyes up. “If you do this, whenever we’re alone, you have to call me Harry.”

“Done,” Snape agreed, though a bit reluctantly.

“And I get to call you Dad.”

Snape had to swallow very hard, but he managed to say, “Fine.”

“Now, I know something’s gone wrong,” Harry jumped up from his seat. “You’re under the Imperious curse or something.”

“Sit down,” Snape directed, and Harry did so, watching him warily. “This is still only discussion. I would have to ask the Ministry for special permission, and until the Dark Lord falls, we couldn’t be too honest about the adoption –”

“Adoption!” Harry leapt to his feet again. “You said guardianship.”

“Well, if we’re doing that, we might as well make it an adoption,” Snape reorted.

Harry fell weakly back into his seat.

“Unless you want to go back to the Dursleys?”

“No,” Harry answered immediately.

“And you come of age next summer so it wouldn’t be for that long.”

“Would I get come back here for Christmas?” Harry demanded.

“I suppose,” Snape answered.

“And next summer, until I come of age?” Harry pressed.

“Yes, then too.”

“And you won’t order me around in front of people?”

“No more than usual,” Snape promised.

“Or spank me in front of people?”

“Potter!”

Harry crossed his arms and looked at Snape pointedly.

“Harry,” Snape amended. “And no, I won’t humiliate you in front of anyone else.”

“And let me eat all the ice cream I want?”

“No,” Snape was firm.

“Worth a try,” Harry shrugged. “Well, I – I want to see the paperwork first.”

Snape hide his smile; the boy was trying to look all grown-up, like he understood the ways of the world. “Any other questions?”

“No, I’m – I’m good for now. But I might have some tomorrow.”

“Fair enough,” Snape pronounced. “But it’s nearly eleven, and I want you to go on to bed.”

Harry stood up. He was almost to the door when he glanced back. He might as well try it – nothing to lose now. “Good night, Dad.”

Snape reached for his teacup, and without looking up, he said, “Good night, Harry.”

And somehow Harry made it upstairs without dying from complete shock.