"So that's what happened," Harry concluded, leaning back against the stone wall. "What should I do?"

Draco and Ron glanced to Hermione, but she shook her head. "No, not today, I'm not giving advice."

"First time for everything," Draco smirked.

Ron pulled the large box of candy away from the blond and offered it to Harry.

"Oh, that's what I need," Harry scoffed. "A lot of sugar - Snape would love that."

"He doesn't let you have candy?" Ron tossed back a handful of beans and made a face at the combined flavors. Worty giggled, and Ron offered him the box next.

"He doesn't want me to do anything fun," Harry snapped. "All day, everyday, he's on my back."

"You should get the punishment over as quick as possible," Hermione suddenly said.

"Really?"

"Yes, because you'll be short-tempered with us until you do," she replied candidly. "We don't want to see you being mean and grouchy just because you're upset at Snape."

"I'm not grouchy," Harry shot back at her. Ron glared at him, and Harry relented, "All right, maybe I'm a bit out of temper, I'll admit. But I have every right to be. Only Snape would make me have to ask for a punishment and explain what I've learned just so he can give my thirty whacks with a hairbrush. Thirty! Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

Worty shuddered and then popped more candy in his mouth.

"I don't even know what to say," Harry went on, glad to finally have friends to complain to. In the summer, he had felt lonely, especially when he and Snape were at odds with each other. "I don't want to start babbling and then he watches me with his classic ‘Potter is an idiot expression."

"He doesn't call you that anymore, does he?" Hermione asked.

"Only when I deserve it," Harry muttered.

"What does he expect you to learn exactly?" Ron questioned.

"I don't know!"

"You must remember something," Draco insisted. "Did he want you to apologize or admit you had mucked it all up?"

"Mum always wanted us to really be sorry and not do it again," Ron put in.

"That's good - use that," Draco urged. "Tell him you'll never do it again. That usually shuts him up for a bit."

"But it's about lying - he always catches me for lying."

"Then stop telling lies," Hermione sighed.

"What - tell the truth all the time? That will never work," Harry shook his head.

"Well, how will you know if you never try?" Hermione asked, snippily.

"Oh, fine. Hermione, you're one of my best friends, but you can be a bossy twit sometimes."

Hermione huffed, and Ron gave an angry "Hey! Watch it."

"And though Ron defends you," Harry went on, "he calls you controlling, and when we first met you, he called you a mental headcase or something like that."

"But in the nicest way," Ron assured her.

"You don't have to be bluntly honest," Hermione pointed out. "You can be tactfully honest, omitting things that would hurt other people's feelings."

"I guess," Harry sighed. There was silence for a few seconds, and then he added, "Sorry about the bossy twit part."

"That's fine," she nodded. "I call you an irresponsible, helpless child all the time."

"A four-eyed freak," Draco put it and Ron added, "A complete moron about the Wizarding world."

"I hate honesty," Harry sighed.

------

He spent the rest of the day wandering about, went to supper with Ron and Hermione, and went up to Gryffendor Tower early. He planned to read or play chess with Ron until bedtime, but Harry had just settled down in his favorite armchair when Luna came to stand beside him.

"Hi, Harry," she smiled dreamily. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Harry lied. "What about you?"

"I'm fine though my things have started disappearing again."

Harry frowned. "I can help you look for them."

"Oh, no worries," Luna began tilting her head back and forth as if keeping time to a song only she could hear. "I would love to spend time with you, but a professor is looking for you."

"Madame Moretta?" Harry sat up.

"No," she breathed softly, "Professor Snape. He stopped me in the hall, asked if I knew where you were. I said no, but that I would find you. And I did find you."

"But what did he want?" Harry pressed.

"He said to ask you if you knew what time it was and that you had detention, but not in that order. Detention first, and then the time."

"I don't have detention with him," Harry said crossly. "If anything I would have - oh, no, the training!"

He leapt to his feet and ran over to Ron and Hermione. "Quick, what do I do?" he hissed to them. "I'm supposed to be training with Snape."

"Go do it," Hermione urged.

"But we're fighting."

"Yeah, but if you don't show up, will it make things better?" Ron asked.

"Good point," Harry nodded. He took a few steps towards the door and then he turned back. "What if he asks about the you-know-what?"

"Have you thought of anything more?" Hermione asked. When Harry shook his head, she replied, "Then don't bring it up. If he asks, say you need more time to think."

"Good," Harry agreed. He took another step towards the door and then looked back. "What if he asks why I can't think of something in a whole afternoon?"

"I don't know, but I think you should definitely stay and talk to us because the longer he waits, the happier he gets," Ron said sarcastically.

Harry flew for the door.

He made it down to the dungeon in record time, and he knocked on the office door which swung open immediately. Snape was standing by his desk, arms crossed.

"You're late."

"I know," Harry panted, "I was busy with - no, no, I just forgot. That's the truth."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "You forgot?"

"I've had a lot on my mind," Harry said truthfully. "And I wasn't sure you wanted to see me until I was ready to - you know."

"Are you ready?" Snape asked.

Harry swallowed, "Not really, but if you want, I can give it my best."

"Take your time." Snape motioned towards the door to the training room. "Go on in."

"You're not coming?" Harry blinked.

"You have another trainer."

Harry's chest hurt as he headed for the door. He wished he had just made something up and gotten his punishment out of the way so Snape would train him. But Snape had passed his training off to another person? That really hurt.

Harry opened the door, but inside was pitch black. He stepped farther into the darkness, and the door swung shut, immersing him into total blackness.

Harry reached for his wand, but suddenly light flared up in the middle of the room, illuminating Madame Moretta in the center.

Harry's first instinct was to rush back to the door, but he didn't want to turn his back on the woman, and he thought that backing up would show his fear. He wrapped his fingers around the end of his wand, staring at her, hard and intense.

"Come forward, Harry," she instructed in a soft voice.

"I take it you're my substitute trainer," Harry said in a tight voice.

"What if I wasn't?" Moretta asked, her eyes glinting in the dull light. "What if you were supposed to train with McGonagall and I killed her to take her place? What if Professor Snape expects you to train with Moretta and I'm a Death Eater who drank Polyjuice Potion and took her place?"

"Then I have to be ready," Harry lifted up his wand. "And I can trust no one."

"Good boy," she smiled coldly. Then she took out her wand and blasted a curse at him, sending him sprawling to the floor.

Harry hit the stones and barely had time to register pain when he had to roll out of the way before she could hurl another curse at him.

He tried to think of one to shout out at her, but she was mixing verbal and non-verbal curses at him, and Harry had to keep running and ducking to avoid them. He jumped into the air and whirled back, shouting,

"Expelliarmus!"

His spell hit Moretta, but she only backed up a step, quickly regaining her balance.

"Is that the best you can do?" she hissed at him. "A weak, silly spell?"

"Incendio!" he shouted, pointing at her long back robes.

Sparks shot against the folds of her robe, but they did not catch fire.

"Incarcerous," Moretta screamed. Ropes shot out of her wand, hurling forth to bind him.

Harry shouted "Expelliarmus" again, and the ropes slowed enough for him to dash out of the way.

Their dueling became more and more violent as the training wore on, and Harry wondered just how far he should go in fighting the woman. He didn't want to really harm her (he was pretty sure it was his Potions professor, despite what she had said earlier). That was the problem with Snape, Harry fumed as he ran as fast as he could with a trail of curses at his heels. Snape never told him what he was getting into before he pushed Harry into the thick of things. Everything was test, a stupid test to drive him mad because he never knew how to react or how far to go or what Snape was thinking and -

"Umph!" Harry fell to the ground as vines sprung out of the ground and wrapped around his ankles.

He clawed to pull them off, but he wasn't quick enough. Moretta strode over to him and pointed her wand down at him.

"And you would end here, dead," she said coldly.

Immediately, the lights of the training room flared on. The vines dropped from Harry's feet as Snape came in, but the man's face was completely blank.

"He's making progress," Moretta announced stiffly. "But he still has far to go."

She swept out of the room, leaving Harry alone with Snape.

"Thanks," Harry was sarcastic as he stood up, slightly sore from being flung to the floor so many times, "I appreciate that."

Snape said nothing, just led Harry to the door.

"What - that's it?" Harry challenged. "That was barely fifteen minutes."

"Every Saturday night you'll be tested on your reflexes and your fighting skills," Snape replied. "A short, but real fight."

Harry looked up at his adopted father, wanting so much to yell what he was feeling, but Harry couldn't say a word. Somehow, he and Snape always ended up at this cold, silent place where neither one of them wanted to give in to the other or even knew how.

"Good night," Harry said bluntly.

"Good night," Snape replied.

Realizing he would get no more out of the man, Harry headed for the door and shut it behind him. By the time he reached his bedroom he was sore, out of breathe, and furious at Snape. As he changed into his pajamas and crawled into bed (far earlier than any of his dorm mates), Harry had only angry thoughts about Snape.

------

By Tuesday afternoon, Harry was so insanely furious with Snape that he glared at the man every time they passed, and he answered as shortly as possible to any questions posed. Harry had gone to training on Sunday and Monday nights, but he had not engaged in any conversation with the man.

His friends had not been helpful at all. Hermione offered to help him compose a list of things he could apologize for, just to end the turmoil, but Harry was done thinking about it. He was not apologizing for anything anymore, he told her. Ron advised that he just ask Snape to paddle him and get it all out of the way.

"Because," Rom had argued, "anyone can take thirty swats, and once they're done, you're free."

Harry thought that was rather easy for Ron to say since he wasn't the one in trouble.

Draco told him to stop being such a whiner about everything, and Harry told him to shut it, and they had a bit of a shoving match before Transfiguration before McGonagall had come out. She threatened to take away House points, and both boys ducked into the classroom without any further fuss. McGonagall kept a stern eye on them for the whole class, but neither Draco or Harry did anything to provoke the other into unruly behavior.

And of course Worty was so young, Harry didn't even ask his opinion. A part of Harry blamed Worty for the whole problem, and Harry knew he shouldn't do that, but it only made him angrier at himself for trying to shift the guilt.

After classes were over on Tuesday, Harry went to search for his friends, but he could not find them. He wondered if they were hiding from him because he was so grouchy lately, and Harry growled at having such fickle, fair-weathered friends that ran whenever their friend need them.

He was contemplating forgetting them all and going to make all new friends when he passed by a classroom door and heard Snape exclaim,

"But that is just the problem - he never thinks before does anything."

Fuming, Harry marched closer to the door, ready to fling it open and demand to know whom Snape was talking to, but then McGongall's voice replied,

"You expect too much from him. He's only a child."

So they were discussing him - how perfectly lovely. Harry crouched closer, eager to hear what his Head of House and adopted father said about him when he was not there.

"He's not just any child, and you know that, Minerva," Snape replied. "He's destined to do great things and I have to make sure he's capable of doing those great things. He needs to recognize I am trying to help him."

"I'm sure that deep down, Harry knows exactly what you are trying to do. And in the great hour of his destiny, he will rely on you and know that he needs you to accomplish what he has to do. But in the everyday tedium and especially here at school, you can't expect him to hold you on that pedestal you wish to stand on."

"I'm not standing on a pedestal," Snape declared. "I don't expect him to give me the same honor and reverence he shows Dumdledore, though a little of it wouldn't hurt. But he cannot think of me as the enemy."

"Of course you're the enemy," McGonagall exploded. "We're always the enemy. To any child in this castle who does not want to study or gets caught cheating or pulls a prank or wanders out after curfew, we are the enemy. If we weren't, I would know we were doing something wrong. If children acted perfect, they could run the school themselves, and we would be out of a job. But they aren't perfect, and we are here to make them behave."

"But he lied to me," Snape protested. "Lied right to my face."

"Well, if you recognized it right off, then you are doing very well indeed. I can tell with most children, but with Harry, it's harder because he usually lies to protect someone's feelings."

"What about my feelings?"

"You're the adult, and Harry has trouble remembering that you have feelings because you take care of him," McGonagall pointed out. "Later, when he's older, I hope you become more of friends and share thoughts and feelings freely, but right now you're the parent and he's the child. He's going to misbehave, he's going to push you, he going to do things without thinking."

"But I'm trying to teach him to think before he does things, to learn to keep himself safe."

"And theoretically, that is an excellent idea," McGonagall assured him. "But practically, it's not working. Harry and you are at some kind of stalemate now, and neither one of you will bend. It's awful for the both of you, but it's misery for the rest of us. Lecture him, ground him, spank him, do whatever you have to do to make it right between the two of you."

Harry scowled at her words. He was sure McGonagall objected to corporal punishment, especially after that time when Draco had been turned into a ferret, but it seemed that McGonagall only objected at corporal punishment for other students, not for Harry Potter.

"I want him to learn something from this," Snape objected. "If I punish him and it's over, he won't learn a thing."

"Severus," McGonagall's voice was tight, "if he learns to fear lying to you and dreads the thought of speaking a word of untruth to you ever again, then you have made a step towards progress. The problem with you is that you're still angry at James Potter for bullying you as a child. You want Harry to be the friend that James never would be, but you also want the respect as teacher. You cannot have it both ways, you can't. You can't have Harry as a friend and as a son right now - it will never work."

"But -"

"No, it's impossible. True friends share equality, an equal exchanging of ideas and conversation and interests. As long as you're his father, you are the one in charge who makes the rules. And wanting him to come apologize - that's what a good friend would do eventually. A son might as well, but when he doesn't, a good father doesn't get upset and brood in silence. He confronts the child, corrects the problem, and tries to get everything back to normal."

"Easier said than done," Snape muttered.

"Harry wants everything to go back to normal," McGonagall raised her voice a notch. "He wants your approval, and he's been miserable since Saturday. I see him sitting in the Great Hall, giving you quick glances every so often and then staring back at his food, very unhappy. I don't pretend to understand what you did with him this summer. I didn't approve of him staying with you at all. But he came back healthy and happy, smiling more than I have ever seen him smile, so I said nothing. But now you have to be the adult and confront him. I'm sorry if he hurt you, but that's what children do. Go and deal with him, or so help me I'll deal with you, Severus Snape."

Harry heard footsteps heading towards the door, and he broke into a run down the hall, running for dear life. Once he was sure he was safe, Harry dropped into a stone chair and tried to process what he had heard. It was so much information at once, and Harry felt guilty for listening, but at the same time, he was glad he did because now he understood Snape's side.

And if Harry had to be honest with himself (always hard), he did seem rather bratty from the adults' point of view. He did lie quite a bit, and he was selfish in never considering Snape's feelings. Snape had really changed since last year, and Harry wouldn't have traded anything for last summer with Snape.

Harry leapt to his feet and headed for the dungeon, hurrying over the stones as fast as he could. He reached the closed door, knocked, and waited for it to open.

"Snape?" he called as he walked in. "Snape, where are you?"

The office was empty, but that did not stop Harry. He ran into Snape's bedroom - empty. Harry went back into the office and glanced around. The stones were back in place, hiding the door to the training room so Harry guessed Snape wasn't in there either. That only left the closed door to the potions store.

Harry tiptoed up to the door and tapped his knuckles against it gently. "Snape?" he whispered. "Are you in there?"

No answer came, so Harry backed away carefully. If he went the rest of his life without entering a potions store, that would be fine with him. Not knowing what to do, Harry flung himself down on the sofa. Why wasn't Snape there? He belonged in his office - he had no right to go wandering other places.

Harry grabbed one of the pillows, punched it twice, and flung it across the room. It hit the hall door and flopped to the floor. It lay still for a second until the door opened.

Snape saw the pillow and stooped to pick it up. As he straightened, he saw Harry and blinked. "Harry?"

"I need to talk to you," Harry jumped off the sofa.

"Well, I'm right here," Snape tossed the pillow on a nearby chair. He crossed his arms and waited for Harry to start.

Harry looked up at the tall man. "I've been thinking about what you wanted me to think about."

"And?" Snape prompted.

"And I've come to the decision that I was wrong for lying to you. I should have explained what happened and told you I was worried about Worty. I shouldn't have lied, and I'm very sorry for it. I will try very hard to tell the truth next time."

"I'm glad to hear it," Snape said calmly.

"And I've also realized something else," Harry went on. His hands were shaking, but he kept talking. "I made a lot of mistakes. I am not perfect. But you know what? Neither are you!"

Snape's mouth fell open.

"That's right," Harry insisted. "You make mistakes, too. The only difference is you're bigger and older than me so I get spanked for my mistakes and you get off free. You were awful to me the first five years here. Before this summer, you wanted to make me miserable. Well, now, you still want to, but you do it through these horrible exercises and training and thinking. I never had to think about things before you adopted me - now all I do is think. ‘What would Snape want me to do? What would Snape say about this?' Maybe you should start thinking what I would do. Then you'd see how hard it is."

"You're asking for it now," Snape warned, but he did not try to stop Harry.

"That must be an easy answer for you. Anytime I start asking questions you don't like to hear, you just threaten to spank me, and I have to shut up. Well, I'm not shutting up. You may be my father and my teacher and my trainer and the man who makes every last decision in my life, but you were a rotten git for five years."

"I admit I treated you a bit unfairly," Snape grounded out the words between clenched teeth.

"There was nothing fair about. You tried to have me expelled and gave me endless detentions and wouldn't listen to me when I needed help. You may have hated my other father, but I'm not him. You were too short-sighted to see anything besides how much you hated him. Even I've learned to get along with Draco, but you couldn't get over your feelings towards my dad after all these years and he was dead. So don't talk to me about thinking everything out because you didn't think that out."

"I'm only concerned for your safety - you know that," Snape retorted.

"So you don't care if I'm happy or not now as long I'm safe later?"

"I want you to be happy now," Snape insisted. "But I want you to think about the future. You have a destiny, but -"

"I don't care about my destiny," Harry shouted. "I think it's stupid - ‘You will be destined to do this or that.' I make my own decisions right here, right now. You taught me that. You taught me that I am in control only of myself and what I do. Otherwise, why do anything if everything is already planned out? I make my own choices and I answer for my mistakes. And as for me thinking you're the enemy - your greatest enemy, Severus Snape, has always been yourself."

"You're delirious," Snape scoffed.

"No, I'm not. For your entire life, you've been trying to prove that you're worth something, that you matter, that someone should take you seriously. Well, it's absurd to think that now because you do matter. To me! I changed how I felt about you, I realized I wasn't alone anymore, I signed the guardian sheet, and I signed the adoption thing, too."

Snape still had his arms crossed, but he did not look as angry as before.

"I could have gotten away," Harry continued hotly. "I could have refused to sign or run off or set the house on fire intentionally. But I didn't. I suffered through your learning how to become a father and punishing me and scolding me and making me study. I've earned the right for you to trust me. And I don't want you to go talking about me to McGonagall again."

"You heard that?" Snape bellowed.

"Yes, I listened at the door. Apparently, you don't have enough faith in me or you wouldn't have to go talking to her about me."

"I needed parenting advice," Snape snapped.

"She doesn't have any children," Harry yelled back. "You want advice about how to handle me? Come talk to me!"

"You were being impossible."

"So were you!"

"Sometimes you are an insufferable child," Snape declared.

"And sometimes you're a right bastard, but you're my father, and I still love you," Harry shot back. He meant to deliver the words and stomp out, but suddenly it got to be too much for him. His eyes stung horribly and he covered them with his hand, swallowing as hard as he could. Clutching his hand to his face, he stood there, fighting against his feelings.

Snape sighed and then walked to Harry. "Come on," he urged. "Sit on the sofa with me."

By the time they reached the sofa, Harry was choking back sobs, hating himself for being such a girl and crying over something like a shouting match. Snape sat him down, and then the man took a seat beside him. Harry kept taking huge, heaving breaths, but he couldn't seem to calm himself down.

"Shh, hush," Snape said. He leaned against the back of the sofa and put his arm around Harry's shoulders. Gently, almost hesitantly, Snape pulled the boy over and pressed Harry's unruly head of hair against his shoulder. Harry didn't even pretend to protest - he leaned into Snape and kept sniffing back tears.

"Such temper," Snape scolded, but the words were low and soft, "such temper from you. You can never just tell me how you feel. You have to shout it at me at the top of your lungs."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. He raised a hand to swipe at his lingering tears.

"We do make a pair, don't we?" Snape gave a rueful laugh. "Both of us needing each other, but too stubborn to admit it."

"You're older - you should know better," Harry muttered into the black fabric of Snape's robe.

"I should. But we're both learning."

"Am I still going to get the hairbrush?" Harry asked into the fabric.

"All thirty swats of it," Snape promised. Harry winced, but Snape patted his shoulder. "I'm going to let you keep your trousers on, though. And I'm putting you over my knee instead of the table. I don't swing as hard when you're over my knee."

"Liar," Harry sniffed.

Snape smiled. "Probably. But we're going to do this and then it's over and we can start from there. We always seem to be starting over after our fights."

Harry sighed, then took a deep breath. He tried to get up, but Snape tightened his arm around his son.

"No, in a few minutes. We're taking our time right now."

Harry put his head back down and stared blankly at the opposite wall. "I don't like that you talk to McGonagall about me," he finally said.

"Do you talk to your friends about me?" Snape asked.

Harry paused and then nodded into Snape's shoulder.

"Do you think it's fair for us to talk about our problems to other people if we still talk to each other?" Snape asked.

"That's fair," Harry nodded again.

"For you, young man," Snape gave Harry's shoulder a warm squeeze, "I would see that everything was fair if I could . . . and your hair still looks unruly." Snape pushed down a clump of dark hair that sprang right back up. "I thought you were going to think obedient thoughts to tame it."

"I lied," Harry smiled cheekily.