Professor Dumbledore sat behind the rich, Mahogany wood of his desk, absently tapping a quill against a forgotten parchment. His eyes were focused instead upon the immense, scroungy figure of a man that almost never came dashing up to his office, as it had not half an hour before. The figure was Hagrid, and from his huge hands hung a sack full of dead animals he'd found lying about the forest, all murdred in precisely the same fashion.

"And there's more out there, you say?" Dumbledore asked, his gaze icy and unflinching.

"Yessir, a lot of 'em look like somethin' tried ot hide 'em away, but Fang found 'em right easy." Hagrid replied, his face brightening with pride at the mention of his faithful pet.

"I want you to keep me updated as best as you can, you can send an owl if you want. I want to know if you see or hear anything unusual at all, or notice any change with the animals." Dumbledore said firmly, sticking his quill vertically into a nearby jar of green ink.

"Sure thing, Professor. I'll start makin' regular rounds o' the woods with Fang. We'll find somethin' fer ya." Hagrid said, pounding one monstrous fist against his breastbone to affirm the statement.

"I know you will Hagrid,...." Dumbledore began, but then the door to the office swung violently open, both Hagrid and Dumbledore reaching for wand and umbrella.

"Professor Snape?!" Hagrid gasped in surprise. Severus Snape stood in the doorway, his robes and hair wild from the long flight. And slung over his shoulder in the classic fireman's carry was none other than Hary Potter, apparently unconscious. "Harry!" Hagrid said, his face twisted into an expression somewhere between joy, confusion, and concern.

"Severus? What happened?" Dumbledore asked, now risen from his chair and crossing the room, his own face lit with concern as well. Snape was the only one that did not look ruffled by his sudden, and rather odd entrance. His face was flushed and he was slightly breathless, as was to be expected when climbing many sets of stairs with a twelve year old slung across your shoulder. His black eyes betrayed none of the concern evident upon his companions, but his face was knit in an expression that could only be called annoyed. He straightened his shoulders slightly under his load, but made no attempt to step further into the room before speaking.

"He passed out about halfway back," Snape replied curtly, making a point of staring at Hagrid, who was leaning just a bit closer than he would have preferred. "He needs to be taken to see Poppy." he said once Hagrid had finally ceased looming over him. Dumbledore glanced quickly behind Snape at Harry, whose arms were hanging limply in the air and face was flushed from the blood rushing to it. The whole thing would have looked rather silly, had it not been for the many and obvious injuries the boy had weathered.

"I'll take 'im down Professor," Hagrid said. Snape had made it all too clear that he was no longer welcome, and Hagrid simply couldn't stand to see Harry hanging like that, and in such terrible condition. Dumbledore nodded his thanks, and Snape quickly shifted his load into Hagrid's waiting arms.

"Careful of his arm, it's broken." Snape said quickly, casting a mild glare at Hagrid and then a blank stare at Harry. Hagrid nodded, but Snape watched them until they were out of sight, not blinking once.

"Severus.."Dumbledore said, and the Potions Master snapped up his gaze, as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. "What happened?" Dumbledore repeated in a soft voice, lest Hagrid was still lingering nearby.

"I found him like that, locked up in a cupboard under the stairs. I think he'd been in there since the night I took him home." Severus said, and for once his face was not angry, blank, or twisted in amusement. Concern ruled his expression for the briefest of moments, but it was subdued in a flash. "I do believe the Dursleys will have a slightly different view of magic from now on, though that may be hoping for too much," Snape sneered, his black eyes flashing at the memory of Vernon Dursley screaming after them into the night. Dumbledore's eyebrows knitted together warily, and he placed one hand firmly on his hip.

"What did you do, Severus?" he said, sounding very much like he was reprimanding a naughty child that he really wasn't angry with.

"Oh nothing permament, I assure you." he replied, his lips curving further into a wicked and extremely satisfied smile. Just like the wolf that found the way into the chicken coop, Dumbledore thought, and shook his head with a smile.

"Alright, I trust you. But we have more to discuss concerning young Harry...." Dumbledore said, and then walked slowly back to his chair. He sat down in it heavily, pausing a moment to rub the weariness from his eyes. When he looked up again, Snape was wearing a positively quizzical expression. He'd thought his job was done. He'd brought the child back, hadn't he? He'd even thrown in revenge for a bonus. What else was there to it? Surely the Headmsater didn't want the boy taxied off somewhere else already...

"I beg your pardon, Headmaster, but I thought that was all you wanted me to do..." Severus said, his tone strongly suggested that he didn't /want/ to have anything further to do with it.

"Oh don't be so illiberal, Severus! You don't honestly expect him to stay in the hospital wing all summer, do you?" Dumbledore said, his initial frown transforming into a devious grin that Severus caught on to all too quickly. Severus expression was one of absolute disbelief."Surely you don't intend for /me/ to watch after him...." he said, snorting lightly at what he hoped was the absurdity of the statement. Dumbledore only laughed and shook his head in amusement, and Severus' shoulders sank in horror.

"Well, the dormitories /are/ locked up for the summer..." Dumbledore began.

"I can't be responsible for taking care of /him/!" Snape interjected desperately, Dumbledore ignored him completely and continued as if he hadn't said a word.

"...and you /do/ have that extra room...."

"But Professor...this...this is /Potter/ we're talking about! Do you know what sort of havoc he'd wreak when left to his own devices down in /my/ dungeons?!" Snape's voice was bordering on panic now, while Dumbledore was still dubiously smiling.

"....and he would need someone to watch after him...." Dumbledore said, and allowed a light laugh to escape before he brought himself under control once again. Snape crossed the room in two long strides and leaned forward onto the Headmaster's desk.

"I /can't/ waste my time watching after a /child/ Albus! Especially /that/ child! And besides, that's my storeroom you're talking about!" Snape almost yelled, his eyes wide with panic and teeth gritted angrily. Dumbledore laughed yet again, absently toying with his wand.

"Not anymore, it isn't."he said, and Snape's eyes opened even wider. "Relax Severus, it's only for the summer." Dumbledore waved a hand absently in the air, as if passing those mere three months off as nothing.

"It's enough that I have to deal with him /during/ the school year! There's got to be somewhere else! "

"I'm afraid not. I'm gone far too often over the summer, otherwise I'd watch after him myself. Filch would kill him, and Hagrid's got his own job to do, he doesn't have time or the proper cooking skills to watch over him. If he stays with you he's got ample protection, the house elves to provide meals, and /you've/ got something to keep you busy." Dumbledore said firmly. Snape acted as if to argue the last statement, but Dumbledore raised his hand, "Don't think I don't know what you do with your summers....you have no hobbies whatsoever Severus, being secluded down in your dungeon so much has made you far too irritable." Dumbledore finished, and gave Severus a glare that spoke volumes. Severus' jaw worked for a moment as he struggled for a rebuttal, but resulted in nothing but silence.

"You'll have a day or two to yourself yet, Severus, Harry will most likely be in the hospital wing for that long at least." Dumbledore said, but the statement didn't calm the Potions Master in the least. Fury had taken its place once again.

"As you wish, Headmaster," Snape said, voice quavering with barely restrained anger. He bowed his head stiffly and then whirled around, his wind-tattered robes flaring angrily behind him as he stalked out the door. A moment later and the faint sounds of destruction could be heard, each successive crash fainter than the last.

Dumbledore shook his head with a smile, and picked up his quill once again. Snape had always been famous for his temper, and it hadn't lessened in the least over time. The man was also stubborn as an ox and could be twice as mean, but it was nothing Dumbledore couldn't handle. Snape wasn't nearly as heartless as he pretended to be, close, but not entirely. He'd been watching both Snape and Harry for a long time now, ever since Harry had arrived at Hogwarts in fact. Snape had obviously hated the boy from the very instant he laid eyes on him, but Harry hadn't been so quick. He'd only developed a hatred for his teacher once Snape had made his feelings no mystery to the boy. Harry hated Snape because Snape hated Harry, and that was where Dumbledore had become truly interested in the matter.

He'd begun to watch the two in earnest, and it hadn't been long before his diligence was rewarded. The Quidditch match. Snape hadn't even waited a breath after Harry had been attacked before he took action. He hadn't paused to gawk, to reap a moment's sick pleasure from the situation first, no, Albus was quite sure the idea hadn't even crossed his mind. It had been an instantaneous reaction.

Albus Dumbledore had a rather ingenius notion then, one that would help to acomplish two of his goals. Harry would be well protected under Snape's care, and also would have a positive influence on the Potions Master, that is, if they could manage to work around that mutual hatred of theirs.Dumbledore sighed and dipped his quill in the ink bottle, leaning over his forgotten parchment once again. Yes, breaking the ice would be the hard part...but once that was done, who knew what could grow from it?

 

---

The Granger house was of the impeccably neat sort, every picture frame, table, and chair set at just the proper angle. The books on the bookshelves stood perfectly straight, not a one even slightly tilted from its place. The lamp shades were dusted, the windows washed to perfection, and everything seemed to shine with its own inner light. Ron had been competely overwhelmed the instant he stepped in the door, as was his mother, father, and sister. The Granger home seemed nearly the exact opposite of The Burrow, though each was appealing in its own right.

 

The instant they'd arrived Mr. Weasley had bombarded Hermoine's father with question after question about the many 'muggle wonders' they'd seen along the way. Mrs. Granger had only laughed happily and led Mrs. Weasley and Ginny off to the kitchen after introductions, allowing the men to their interests and the children to theirs. Ron was more than grateful that Fred and George had decided to stay at a friend's house, rather than tagging along for troublemaking.

After the chaos of their arrival died down and the soot from the fireplace was swept away, Hermoine and Ron settled into a pair of cushy, blue armchairs near the small, gas-lit fireplace. They'd been happy enough to see one another at first, but now that they were together, the reason for the visit weighed heavily upon them. After kicking off her shoes and curling her legs beneath her on the chair, Hermoine finally spoke.

"I gather you haven't heard a thing, either?" she asked, though her voice was low; she already knew the answer.

"Not a word." Ron said, watching the fire with a detached sort of interest. The flames seemed to make his hair even brighter, the contrast making his skin appear much paler than normal.

"Maybe we should pay the Dursleys a visit, or even contact Dumbledore. He'd know what was going on....wouldn't he?" Hermoine said, though she sounded far less sure of herself than usual.

"I think you're right....though we should probably try Dumbledore first, from what Harry told us I don't think the Dursleys would appreciate a visit very much...might even slam the door on us without bein' able to find out a thing." Ron said, his lip curling up slightly at the last. Harry had never spoken of the Dursleys of his own accord, he only mentioned them at all when directly asked about them. Ron and Hermoine had questioned him about it a little during their first year, but it had quickly become apparant that Harry /really/ did not like to talk about it, it was one of the few subjects that visibly upset him; the only others being Voldemort, Draco, and Snape.

"But what if Dumblefore doesn't know anything? What if we just missed Harry at the train....and the Dursleys just havn't let him answer our letters? Dumbledore wouldn't be able to do a thing then....and neither could we, really." Hermoine said somewhat dejectedly. She and Ron had been sending owl after owl to one another and to Harry, each trying to find out anything at all about Harry's disappearance. The only thing they knew was that he'd gone chasing after Hedwig, and that was the last they'd seen of him.

"Still, we might get Harry in trouble if we just show up on his doorstep. We should see what Professor Dumbledore has to say..." Ron said, and after a silent moment, Hermoine nodded.

"Right then. Let's go write a letter."

 

---

Potter had been in the hospital wing for nearly a week before Poppy had reluctantly decided to release him. It had taken some rather smooth talking on Albus' part, as well as the assurance that he'd be watched carefully. Snape snorted at the thought, watched carefully /indeed/. He fully intended to watch him like a hawk, there was no possible way he'd allow the brat the ghost of a chance to pull anything. Although, by the boy's current expression, he was apparently not in the mood for anything of the sort. Good, Snape thought with bitter satisfaction. Potter was staring at the floor of Snape's dungeon abode rather fixedly, his shoulders slumped in obvious depression. Snape himself stood facing him, arms crossed and glaring as fiercely as possible, the fire behind him throwing his face into menacing shadow."So....Poppy finally let you go, did she?" Snape hissed, his voice biting with sarcasm.

 

"Yes." Potter whispered, quickly reaching up a hand to move his glasses to their proper place on his nose."And Albus told you why you're here, to my deepest chagrin?" Snape said, his lips curling into a snarl at the last. Potter nodded fiercely, not daring to look his teacher in the eye.

"Good. Now, before you get too /comfortable/ I have a few rules to lay down." he said, and Potter raised slightly, expressing his attention. Snape straightened, and in a voice that tolerated no arguement whatsoever, said, "Number one. You are not to enter the room to the left without my permission, that is MY room and I will NOT tolerate intrusion. Your room is through the door on the right. Number /two/. Touch ANYTHING that looks even remotely valuable and I will personally throw you out the third floor window. Number Three. I am to know your whereabouts at ALL times, day or night. The only time you will be allowed to leave the castle at night is when accommpanied by Hagrid and given proper permission by me. I don't want you here, and I'm /sure/ that you don't want to /be/ here, so it would be in both of our interests if you were to refrain from any of your more.../daring/ hobbies. You see anything unusual, you tell me. Understood?" Snape growled angrily, and as if on cue, the fire gave a loud spark and flared momentarily.

"Perfectly, Professor." Harry said, his head hanging even lower. He'd been overjoyed when Snape had rescued him from the Dursleys, unable to suppress a feeling of elation at the prospect of returning to Hogwarts once again. Even being rescued by /Snape/ hadn't seemed all that bad. In fact, Harry had even stopped hating him for a moment. Right about when he'd played his prank on the Dursleys.....Harry was positive that /that/ hadn't been part of Dumbledore's instructions to Snape, and now Harry supposed he'd read too much into the action. At the time, it had almost seemed as if Snape was trying to cheer him up, as if he didn't completely hate him, but rather cared at least a little bit, just enough to seek a little revenge for him. On the flight back Harry had thought even more so, and that was why he'd thanked him, for caring. He'd tried to be strong against the pain, tried to fight off the dizzyness that had fought to claim his mind, fought to ignore the absurdity of the situation. In the end, about half-way through the journey home, he'd passed out. Was that why Snape hated him again? Because he'd been weak? Or was it just the fact that he had to be his 'guardian' all summer? Harry certainly didn't like the idea either, but it still hurt for some reason. The knowledge that he'd mattered at least a little, and then was nothing once again; Harry hated the feeling. And if Snape wanted to hate him for all he was worth, well, Harry could quite happily oblige with the same.

"You'd best unpack your things, Potter, they're already in your room." Snape said, staring so coldly at the boy it was a surprise he wasn't frozen on the spot. Potter nodded and disappeared into the right-hand room, the sound of rustling clothes and the stacking of thick books followed a moment later.

Severus Snape sank heavily into a chair near the fireplace, leaning his head back against the thinning cushion. This was /not/ his idea of a /vacation/. Sighing heavily, he cast a quick glance at the lighted doorway, and then reached for the 'Daily Prophet,' that lay on a table next to the chair. One eyebrow quirked up at the headline, which read,"Rash of Animal Deaths Sweeps Countryside," and was followed by several photographs of the victimized creatures. After a moment's perusal the paper was tossed aside, and Snape rose from the chair. It was late, and he was in no mood to read or simply contemplate the fireplace, Potter's presence had put him far too much on edge. Hopefully the boy would have enough sense to go to bed too, Snape thought, and slammed his door with a deliberately loud bang.