Before he started to gather tools, he decided to inspect the rooms they were about to spend days... or weeks (maybe months?) in.

In the corridor, he found an emergency escape plan. It showed function and position of every room as well as all exits. Well, both exits. They were properly locked, barred and charmed. Muggle and wizard security combined.

However, the plan was still useful.

"Staff Bathroom, Staff Laundry Room, Staff Kitchen, Staff Lounge."

That will do, Harry decided. He hadn't been in any of them, but they were the least spooky-sounding rooms he could find. He did not care to spend entire nights, dark nights in the EST (Electroshock treatment room) or the children's wards.

It was getting cold and dark. Soon, Harry wouldn't be able to see a thing. Maybe there were candles here? Or torches? Back to the corridor, he peered at the escape plan. The storage room was the cellar.

Great, Harry thought, nothing better than spending your night in the basement of a haunted looney bin.

He worked up the courage to find the stairs. The door was closed, but not locked. The room was surprisingly clean. Harry spotted a large torch and tried to turn it on, but it was dead. It was almost pitch black, so he searched the stickers that were on the lockers. Cleaning supplies, stationary, general supplies, medical supplies, food supplies, technical supplies, laundry, staff laundry. It looked promising. Harry searched the floor to find something to pick the locks with and found a paper clip.

Then he unfolded a moving box and started to pack everything they could need. After an hour or so, it was full to the top. He'd even found torches. No light bulbs though. He remembered that Lorel had offered Uncle Vernon to plug the drill in, so there must be access to electricity. He found the generator room and was able to access the emergency electricity. There was very little food, just a few packets of spaghetti, tinned tomatoes, tomato puree, garlic puree, salt, pepper, dried herbs and vinegar. It was the first time he was truly glad that he had grown up with muggles. At least he could be of some use. He fumbled double A batteries into maglites and with the torch hanging out of his mouth, he carried the large box upstairs. When he was back in the corridor, he heard Snape swearing and cursing something.

He went through the box, got a calculator, another torch, pencils and a writing pad. His breath held, he walked towards the bad-mooded teacher.

"Sir?"

"I do not wish to be disturbed. I thought I made that clear."

Harry held out the things he had found, Snape grabbed them and dismissed him with a nod.

And he's trying to teach me manners, Harry thought.

The next few hours Harry spent emptying the two rooms, the bathroom and the staff kitchen, tidying, cleaning, disinfecting and scrubbing. The conditions in all chosen rooms were terrible, never in his life had Harry seen so much grime. He worked doggedly, allowed himself no break. His hands started getting raw, but this was something he was used to. Then he moved only the necessary furniture back, not without thoroughly scrubbing it. He even put on new, sterile bed protection and bed clothes. Harry looked down on himself. There was stuff sticking to his clothes and Harry didn't want to dwell on what it was. He got some fresh clothes he had found from the staff laundry locker and went for a freezing cold shower. At least there was water, it was a little brown at first, but then became clear. His teeth clattered.

Unfortunately, the clothes he got were not warm. The short-sleeved T-Shirt revealed another ugly bruise on his arm where Vernon had dragged him downstairs after Dudley had burnt himself with the kettle. It wasn't Harry's fault that Dudley was so fat that he knocked everything over. But of course, Vernon had blamed him.

Harry shrugged. Couldn't be helped. Snape wasn't interested anyway. He was probably quite glad to hear that the Dursley's didn't pamper him at all.

The last thing on Snape's list was the preparation of food. Harry'd had a lot of practice with that as well. After another hour, he had prepared a perfect Spaghetti and tomato sauce. He had even found red wine and cream to make it better. Harry did know that Snape would be surprised by his skills, but he knew he wouldn't get praised. His house-elf skills were nothing to be proud of.

He rattled the dishes really loudly, like Petunia always did and after a few seconds, he heard approaching footsteps. Snape went into the bathroom and Harry made even louder noises. He did not want to hear anything. Then, Harry heard Snape walking around in the other rooms Harry had cleaned. Halting and inspecting each one.

Harry dished out food and could feel eyes boring into him from behind. Snape scrutinised the food, the bruise on Harry's arm, the cleanliness of the kitchen.

"Well, Potter, I am surprised you haven't decorated as well. Were you intending to stay for the year?"

Harry held his tongue. There was no energy left for another argument. The prospect of sitting at a table with Snape, eating and trying to ignore the awkward silence diminished his appetite in an instant.

"There is wine, too, sir. Can I eat in the other room please?"

Snape, looking a little too relieved for Harry's taste, agreed.

When he was finished with his meal, he noticed that there was a file lying right in front of him. Though he wasn’t too interested in reading horror stories, he opened it anyway.

There was an odd list of reasons why people were admitted to this place.

Intellectual impairment
General Idiocy or Idiotism
Imbecility
Incapacity
Vacancy of mind
Poverty of intellect
Clouded perception
Stupidity
Incompetence
Insanity
Simplicity
Puerility
Babyhood
Anility
Irrationality
Trifling ineptitude
Inconsistency
Madness
Unintelligence
Weak mindedness
Weak headedness
Shallow mindedness
Infantilism
Unteachability
Ungifted
Irrationality
Moron -ism?
Mongoloidism
Feeblemindedness
Cretinism
Dwarfism
Spasticism
Head affection after fever
Cerebral excitement
Sillyness
Dementia
Chronic Congenital Mania
Melancholia
Truly deplorable
Harmlessly insane
Dangerously insane
Living in an inactive state
Listlessness
Infirmity a range of?
Paralysis
Defective intellect
Moral degradation
Infamy
Criminality
Derangement

Harry snorted. This applied to almost everyone. He flicked through the pages and suddenly saw a name he recognised. His breath stopped. He was itching to read further. For the first time in his life, he did not give in to his curiosity and slapped it shut. Someone had planted this information here. But it was certain, very certain that this someone couldn’t have been Snape. A shiver went down his spine. Feeling a little numb, he stood up and slowly walked towards the staff kitchen.

Snape looked up from his empty plate. Harry saw the purple shadows under the man’s eyes, the pale face, the lost weight. An unfamiliar sensation rushed through his body. Something he had never felt towards his… tormentor? It was pity.

Wordlessly, he held out the file. Snape took it off him and flicked through it. When he glared back at Harry, he could see freshly inflamed rage. It was so raw that Harry intinctively retreated.

“Did you read this?” Snape demanded, his voice quiet and cutting.

“I did not.” Harry answered.

“I don’t believe you.”

Snape slowly stood up, he seemed to have difficulty maintaining his balance. Harry quickly checked the wine bottle. It was empty and a new one had been opened. He could almost hear the alarm bells ringing.

“I- I didn’t read it. You have my word. As a wizard. As a Gryffindor. Please don’t…”

“Don't what?” he demanded. Harry noticed that his cheeks were oddly flushed. Anger, rage, concentrated hatred, pain and something else… something unfathomable fluttered across his face and Harry started to feel very uneasy.

Snape got a glass from the cupboard and planted it in front of Harry. He then poured wine into it.

“Drink this,” he demanded.

“I don’t drink…” Harry replied hesitantly.

“Nor do I. Nonetheless.”

Harry emptied it in one gulp and felt almost instantly drowsy. Snape did the same.

“It seems…” Snape started slowly, slurring, but choosing his words carefully, “It seems as if certain information... should be exchanged.”

Harry wasn't exactly sure what Snape meant. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to know any more. Every single shred of information was as unpleasant as the next.

“You will answer every question truthfully and in satisfactory length. Is that clear, Mr. Potter?”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Do those rules apply to you as well?” he enquired, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible. Maybe he could find out more about his mum? He knew almost nothing about her. It didn't seem right that everyone else was allowed to have more knowledge about his parents than he did.

Snape regarded him for longer than Harry was comfortable with, as if he was searching for something. He then seemed to have found it (or not) and answered.

“Agreed.”

“Fine.” Harry licked his lips nervously. “I start with the questions.”