Harry woke up slowly, not moving until he was certain there was nobody nearby. Then he sat up and looked around. Is Madame Pomfrey – there she is. Damn. The mediwitch was already bustling around as usual. She'd undoubtedly seen his odd choice of sleeping place and decided to leave him alone. Will she tell Professor Snape? Well, nothing for it. Harry got up and moved back to the bed he'd been assigned, carrying his pillow with him.

Whether or not the mediwitch decided to tell, Harry preferred for the professor not to see him acting so oddly. Bad enough that Harry had displayed his fears for the world to see (well, Snape and Pomfrey), he wouldn't give them any further information on his weirdnesses if he could help it.

Nothing. Happened. I grew up like every other spoiled child. I'm nothing but an obnoxious defiant brat who thinks he's cool because he doesn't mind pissing off adults; not the one to rush in and “rescue.” They don't want to have to bother with me, anyway. Yesterday doesn't matter, not to them, not to me.

He'd been promised he could leave the infirmary that day, mostly because it was Sunday and he wouldn't have to return to class until the next day. Finally, Harry thought, finally he'd be able to return to normal life. Nothing has to change. Harry promised himself. As long as I can get Snape and the interfering mediwitch to back off, everything will go back to how it was; how it should be.

SSSSSSSSSSSSS

Harry spent the first part of his morning catching up on his homework, figuring that if he wanted life to get back to normal he'd better be as prepared for class as if he hadn't spent his Saturday afternoon being raked across the coals. He still felt exhausted from both the emotions and the prodigious but ultimately futile effort it took to try and hide them.

That bastard Snape. What does he care if I fall from my broom? If he'da just left me alone from the beginning I could've spent the last week attending his class and ignoring his sneers and riding my broom and doing my homework and maintaining the act that's been working just fine for eleven bloody years, but no.

Harry found himself angry again as he remembered the events of the last week. No, that's not enough for the fucking Greasy Git of the Dungeons. He's got to swoop in like a bloody bat and give me that bloody detention that started this whole stupid thing. Then to top that, he goes and pushes me on details that he doesn't really want to know and now I'm here, hanging in the infirmary, waiting for bloody permission to leave like a good little invalid. Bloody hell.

Speak of the devil. The object of his ire entered the infirmary and headed straight towards him, and Harry lifted his chin and set his jaw. Severus held back a sigh. Back to this, again. I should have predicted that, I suppose. No way he's going to suddenly be open and talkative just because I haven't hit him in the 24 hours since I caught him and figured out that he was abused. Patience. Not that the professor had particularly enjoyed the boy's rudeness, but it was at least more open than this quiet defiance.

“Mornings greetings to you as well, Potter. And isn't it a beautiful day?”

Harry's expression did not change, nor did he speak. Oh yes, because you're always cheerful and friendly first thing in the morning.

“Very well, Potter, I'll get straight to the point. Regardless of the stresses you have been under in the last two weeks, your behavior has been atrocious. I am certain that you are capable of remembering all of said transgressions, however I believe I will reiterate as I go along to be certain that you understand the acts for which you are being penalized.”

Severus looked at Harry briefly, attempting to tell if the boy was listening. Harry had adopted an entirely blank expression, but he didn't have the glazed look that many of his students got when faced with the professor's purposefully over-erudite speech, so Severus continued.

“To start with, why not discuss the original flying lesson. Not only did you disobey a professor and break a school rule, you also put yourself in danger. Disregard for your own safety will never be considered acceptable behavior. I believe I mentioned before that in the case that you put yourself in danger through willful foolishness or disobedience you can expect to be disciplined physically.”

Severus again looked at Harry, this time searching for any sign of distress at the idea, but the boy's face was still maddeningly blank. Merlin, child, you might make a decent spy. The potions master kept speaking.

“You will discover that my methods in this are quite different from those of your erstwhile guardians” The word was spoken with a growl, “...however we will get to that at a later time. Given the circumstances I have decided to forgo said method at this time in favor of a week of daily detentions and what I call “level two” grounding. Each detention is to be approximately three hours long, at my discretion, and served with me.”

The boy glanced up briefly when Severus mentioned that he was going to make an exception, but otherwise continued to just stare, no sign of curiosity or even aggression on his face. To say that it was unnerving to see in an 11-year-old was to understate the case considerably. It was even worse than the brat's habitual angry glower.

“To explain further, since you show no inclination of asking, in “level two” grounding you are confined to your dormitory except when you are in class. Food will be provided for you there as you are not permitted to leave except to go to the library, and then only with permission. Your friends from other houses may, however, join you in the dorm to study as long as you remain quiet.”

Severus had given up on looking to Harry for a reaction, though he thought that he'd likely get one by the time he was finished explaining the crushing list of punishments about to be laid down.

“Following this misbehavior I assigned you a detention, during which I would have explained the grounding as well as set you to some unpleasant menial tasks. You, however, decided to flee rather than face my understandable displeasure, and in doing so skipped that detention, two of my classes, and our required Friday meeting time. For the missed detention, and each missed class I will assign you two detentions. These, plus one detention for the missed meeting, gives you a total of seven – another set of one a day for a week”

Already at a week of grounding and forty-two hours of detention, and the boy didn't budge. It was like talking to an Inferius, or even a wall. The potions master continued doggedly on.

“Finally we come to your most serious offenses. First off, you hid injuries from Madame Pomfrey and me. That is never acceptable, under any circumstances. The infection on your back really could have killed you, and yet you persisted in hiding it from the world. Did you honestly prefer death to letting someone tend to your hurts? Regardless, this behavior will not continue. Normally you would have at least another week of grounding and/or detentions for that alone. As it is...” The potion master tightened his jaw briefly. “I will not punish you. However, this is a warning. Don't do it again.

“Lastly, your behavior in the infirmary was inexcusable. When you are injured, you go to Madame Pomfrey and you do exactly as she asks. You take potions when she tells you to take them, and you leave when she allows it and not before. Anything else is childish and foolhardy. I will not have it. That gained you another week of grounding, for a total of two weeks grounding and nightly detentions.”

Anyone other than the potions master would have missed the slight tightening of Harry's jaw at that pronouncement. Good. He's really just pretending he doesn't care.

“Understand that I consider these consequences lenient. In the future, you will put higher stock in your own health and well-being, or you will find yourself in much deeper trouble.” Good. That should leave the boy well enough confused.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

The whole time the potions master was talking, Harry steamed. He'd adopted a look he used frequently with his uncle when the man was angry. It had the advantage that it didn't betray his feelings, and wouldn't get him in trouble the way anger would. It was harder to maintain, though, as his emotions actively fought against it, rather than bolstering it.

He could keep it now, though, as he'd had plenty of time to prepare and, for the moment, he wasn't particularly frightened. He even managed to actually listen to the man's speech at the same time, so he knew what was expected of him. He couldn't get out of it this time, he knew. For one thing, the Slytherin Head of House knew how to force him out of hiding, and, for another, the student body wouldn't interpret his escapade as clever a second time.

What he heard, though, confused him. For one terrifying moment, when the professor had mentioned that he would be disciplined “physically,” Harry thought that the man would finally show his true colors and end Harry's confusion, but then he'd changed that. In his surprise, Harry's mask had slipped a little, and Harry was certain that the potions master had noticed.

The professor had then gone on to list the transgressions that, according to him, Harry had committed. Most of them Harry had anticipated – he'd known when Minerva had dragged him off to Snape that he was in for it, for example, as well as he knew that running made a punishment worse. That he'd be punished for those Harry took as a matter of course, though the manner surprised him some.

It was almost like Poppy sending him into a corner, this week of grounding and detentions. It felt oddly...familial. Grounding in particular was something he'd heard of on TV that Muggle families did when their children misbehaved in some way. The TV shows rarely showed the families where the kids got punished and couldn't stand up afterward, Harry had noticed.

It was the last two “transgressions” and requisite punishments that really angered and surprised him, though. Who ever heard of punishing someone for not asking for or accepting medical treatment? Avoiding school matrons was supposed to be how one stayed out of trouble. What did he need to go for, anyway? Harry could take care of himself. But they didn't want him to. Harry'd never been more confused in his life.

This sucked. A whole week of grounding and detention for “putting himself in danger?” a whole 'nother week of grounding because he'd gotten tired of being poked and prodded and confined to that damned huge, sterile room? And Madame Pomfrey had already punished him for not taking the potion! It was just monstrously unfair, Harry decided. Prepare yourself, Germany. You've had the time to recuperate, now's the time to retaliate. With any luck Snape'll play Poland or France, this time, rather than Russia... Harry thought about that for a bit. I really need a new metaphor.

Then the professor was finished speaking, finishing with a simple, “any questions?” Harry realized that, yes, he did have a question, and so spoke in as neutral a tone as possible.

“Quidditch, sir?” Captain Flint is going to kill me.

Snape gave him a sharp look. “What did I say, Potter?”

Harry nodded, clenching his teeth but maintaining his neutral stance as best he could. “Very well, sir.”

Finally the potions master left, telling Harry that his grounding was to start immediately upon his release from the hospital wing, and that his first detention was set for that night at 7:00. Harry settled in for the time until Pomfrey would release him, alternately doing his homework and planning his next campaign. Let's see...I'll need the Theo and Blaise's help, I think...

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

When Harry was finally released from the hospital wing that afternoon, with strict instructions to come back to the infirmary each day for his potions, he returned to the dorm as commanded. Theo and Blaise were waiting for him in the common room, and Theo even stood up when he came in.

“Harry! Where've you been this week? We haven't seen you at all since he sent you that Howler, and Snapers wouldn't tell us anything, just said that you were busy. What'd he do to you, drop you off in the middle of the Forbidden Forest?”

I WISH...But what's this about him not saying anything? Harry thought fast.

“Nahh... just stuck me in detention like the whole time. Wasn't even allowed into the Great Hall. He really wouldn't tell you?”

“Nope. Said it was between you and him. What's so secret about a detention, anyway?”

Harry just shrugged, noticing Blaise was watching him closely. Harry was good at lying, but for all he knew quieter, more observant Blaise would notice something happy-go-lucky Theo would not. He didn't worry about Ron and Hermione. Ron would notice that Harry was gone, and probably figure that Snape had done something nefarious, but wouldn't notice a lie if you told him the Giant Squid was taking flying lessons. Hermione would be too involved in her books to have noticed his absence at all. Blaise...could be a problem. He got the feeling that Blaise didn't buy his story, for some reason. Harry decided to change the subject, and immediately set on an easy one.

“Snapers?” Theo blushed a bit but responded in kind.

“What? You prefer Greasy Git? Bloody Bat? Slimy Swamp? I thought about old Snake-face but realized that fit the Dark Lord a bit better.”

Harry laughed.

“You tell him that, next time you see him. Anyway...you just can't call our Head of House “Snapers.” It sounds almost....affectionate.” Harry shuddered dramatically.

“But that's the point!! Can you imagine Snape's face if he heard us refer to him as that! Hmm...maybe we should go that angle. How about Snapey-poo?”

Blaise gagged violently, finally deciding to intervene. “This conversation is childish enough without your uncreative and...obscene...ideas. Come up with something better.”

Theo pouted sulkily before perking up and issuing his challenge. “Is that so, Mr. High-and-Mighty? Care to tell us lesser creatures what you have in mind?”

Blaise thought for a bit before displaying one of his rare smiles. “I rather like Serpentus Snake, personally.”

Theo grinned broadly. “Serpentus Snake it is. Snapers, for short.”

Blaise and Harry rolled their eyes as one and laughed, conceding defeat. Nobody talked Theo out of a harebrained idea if he was really set on it.

Finally Harry looked up at the wall clock and sighed. It was 6:45. He had to leave soon if he didn't want to be late for his detention.

“I gotta go, guys. Will you be around when I get back?”

Blaise responded. “How long are you going to be gone?”

“Detention with Snape. You tell me.”

Blaise grimaced, while Theo exclaimed, “MORE detention?”

Harry smiled wanly. “Yeah. Ever wonder why Snape's not my favorite person? Anyway I'll explain when I get back if you're still up.”

“Detention's generally around two or three hours long,” Blaise informed him. “You'll be back by ten, probably. I'll still be up.”

Theo smiled. “Me, too. We can come up with some more names, okay?”

Harry smiled grimly. I think I can do better than that. “Just names, Theo?” Harry smiled as Theo took on a look full of mischief. “I'll explain when I get back. I've gotta go.”

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

“Enter.”

Harry walked in, head held high, and looked around. The office itself was relatively small, but sported a well-appointed private potions laboratory off one side. That could be useful, later. Snape gestured to a small desk he’d set up in front of his own, and Harry sat down, noticing the quill and parchment already placed there, ready to use.

“Today you will be writing lines. Since this detention is being served for the flying incident, you will write, ‘Rules are put in place in order to keep me safe, and are therefore not to be ignored. My life is worth more than a Rememberall. I must learn to value it as highly, and guard it as carefully, as those around me do.’ Any questions?”

Harry kept his face carefully blank. Yes, in fact. Why are you so interested in my life? Why can’t you just concentrate on your own? He said only, “How many times, sir?”

“Two hundred.” Two Hundred?? But it’s so long! I thought you said detention would be three hours long?! Surely 3 hours is enough!

Harry just gritted his teeth and got started, though inside he still seethed. No way this is going to take less than five hours.

1. ‘Rules are put in place in order to keep me safe, and are therefore not to be ignored. My life is worth more than a Rememberall. I must learn to value it as highly, and guard it as carefully, as those around me do.’

Is that some kind of joke? ‘Value my life as highly as those around me do?’ And who on earth is guarding me? Who the hell cares if I live or die? Well, other than other kids, but I highly doubt ‘Snapers’ is referring to them. Madame Pomfrey, maybe. She patched me up after all. I doubt she’s guarding me, though…but then who is?

Perhaps the potions master was just mocking Harry. Rubbing his face in the fact that nobody was guarding him because nobody did care. That made more sense to Harry, though the man didn’t really seem like he was joking. Stop thinking. Just write his stupid paragraph. Only Snape would forget that ’lines’ usually consist of one line each.

2.‘Rules are put in place in order to keep me safe, and are therefore not to be ignored. My life is worth more than a Rememberall. I must learn to value it as highly, and guard it as carefully, as those around me do.’

Snape was moving around the room, seemingly aimlessly and Harry stopped to watch as the man walked behind him.

“I don’t hear you writing, Potter.” Harry stiffened and went back to writing, but he couldn’t write and watch what the professor was doing at the same time.

3. ‘Rules are put in place in order to keep me safe, and are therefore not to be ignored. My life is worth more than a Rememberall…’ He tried to just listen, but even that took too much attention from his writing, and he couldn‘t relax at all. If only Snape would just go back to his desk!

“Ha-Potter I am eight feet away.” Commented the potions master, sounding impatient. “I’m not going to approach without you hearing me. Now, write.”

Harry’s cheeks burned, and he ducked his head to hide it. Why does he have to be so damned observant all the time? Time for damage control. “My hand hurt, sir.”

“Oh, please.” Answered the professor sharply, “you’ve been here for twenty minutes. Now I’ll repeat, I’m not going to harm you. Your punishment is to sit and write until you’re bored silly and the message runs around in your brain in an annoying litany for the next two days. That’s it. Now write!”

‘…I must learn to value it as highly, and guard it as carefully, as those around me do.’

But who the hell was doing all this valuing and guarding?

4. ‘Rules are put in place in order to keep me safe, and are therefore not to be ignored. My life is worth more than a Rememberall. I must learn to value it as highly, and guard it as carefully, as those around me do…’

At precisely 10:00 the professor finally stopped his infernal wandering and returned to his desk.

“How many so far, Potter?”

Harry looked. Ugh. I’m barely over half done! Harry’s hand hurt abominably, but his neck, shoulders and back were worse. He’d spent most of the three hours hunched up, listening anxiously and trying to write at the same time. It didn’t leave him in a particularly charitable mood. He looked up angrily into the potions master’s eyes and spoke coolly.

“One hundred and ten, sir.”

The man gestured and Harry handed over his work. Does he want to count himself, or something? There all there. I even wrote them neatly. You have nothing to complain about. It’s your own fault if you’re stuck here all night with me.

“Good work. You’re dismissed.”

Harry barely escaped gaping at the man. Good work???? Dismissed? But I didn’t even finish! What on earth is UP with you?

The Slytherin Head of House smirked at Harry’s hesitation, but moved to explain. “You’ll finish them tomorrow. One hundred and ten is enough for one day, considering the neatness of your work. Go, Potter.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice: he left, shaking out his aching hand and trying to relax his agonized shoulders as he went. He wondered at the potion master’s odd comments over the annoying litany that, as predicted, ran around in his head as if it would never cease.

‘Rules are put in place in order to keep me safe, and are therefore not to be ignored. My life is worth more than a Rememberall. I must learn to value it as highly, and guard it as carefully, as those around me do.’

Who in Merlin’s name was guarding him?

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

Number one of fourteen, Harry remembered, seething to himself as he re-entered the dorm and headed to where Blaise and Theo were still seated.

“All right, guys. You wanna help me out?”

“Sure!” Enthused Theo, almost covering Blaise's more cautious “with what?”

“Well, I've got detention again tomorrow...and every day for the next two weeks...and I'm grounded...so long story short I'm not going to be the most mobile for a couple of weeks. Feel like helping me wage World War II?”

Both boys' eyes widened in horror at the list of punishments before looking at Harry with growing confusion. He decided to speak plainly. “Snape's set out to make my life miserable for the next two weeks. I want to return the favor.”

Theo and Blaise looked at each other. Theo smiled enthusiastically, while Blaise's face took on a thoughtful expression before exhibiting a slow grin and speaking for both of them. “We're in.”

HPHPHPHPHPHPHHPHPHPHPHP

The next day at breakfast, word went around on the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. The rumor spread. Something's going down in 1st-year potions. Don't react. Don't let Snape know anything's going on. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Theo, and Blaise sat together in a cluster for what Harry realized was only his third Potions class of the term, and the others' fifth. Snape had humiliated him at the first, and ignored him entirely at the second. Harry suspected that today would get a reaction, and fairly buzzed with mingled anticipation and anxiety.

The other students trickled in slowly, whispering and wondering among themselves, and sat down in their usual groups. Nobody but Harry, Theo, and Blaise knew what was about to happen; all the others knew was that something was and that they shouldn’t react.

Soon enough, Snape blazed in through a different door, bringing instant quiet. I wonder where that door leads. Hmm…his office, maybe? The professor waved his wand at the board, and the potions ingredients appeared The professor then instructed the students to get the extra ingredients they needed for the potion (the students had most of them in their personal potions kits), and turn to page 120 in their textbooks.

Then the potions master got started explaining the day’s potion - a teeth-growing potion that was used to help those who had lost their teeth or worn them down. Only Harry noticed, as the lecture went on, that the potions master was acting a bit odd, alternately watching Harry closely and pretending not to notice at all.

Finally the potions master turned around to gesture to something on the blackboard, and Harry spoke his incantation. A three-centimeter wide strip of the hair on the back of the potions masters’ head turned violently purple. Success! Those students who saw hid grins and laughter behind pursed lips, or ducked quickly behind their cauldrons, while Theo gave Harry a surreptitious thumbs-up. Snape didn’t notice, for the moment.

The next time Harry saw the back of Snape’s head, two streaks of blue appeared on either side of the purple, and the class barely contained their giggles. Next came two streaks of green, then yellow, then orange. The class continued to snicker, but though the potions master looked suspicious, he couldn’t yet see the hair for himself and so couldn’t tell what was going on. Finally Harry added the final two streaks of blazing red, and the class couldn’t hold on any longer. A snicker was heard, then a choking laugh, and finally the class simply exploded in hilarity.

The potions master summoned himself a mirror and did a double-take as the children laughed harder. He looked like a dour sort of clown. Severus scowled fiercely as his eyes scanned the classroom. Who in Merlin’s name - Potter. The boy was staring right at him, a satisfied smile on his face that grew challenging when he met the potions master‘s eyes. What are you going to do about it? It seemed to say. What will I do about it? The potions master wondered. Why is he causing trouble now of all times? You‘d think he‘d be looking to avoid more detentions.

He had to teach his class, though, so he decided to ignore the problem for the moment, returning his hair to normal with a wave. This drew disappointed sighs from several of the students, which Severus also ignored.

“I believe that is enough wasted time for one day. You have half an hour. If your potion is not finished you will earn a zero for the day. Get to work.”

The students bent industriously over their cauldrons, and for the rest of the class only the occasional giggle or whisper was heard. Severus was sure that news of the incident would travel the school quickly - it wasn’t every day a student had the balls to prank the potions master - but there wasn’t anything the man could do about it so he ignored that, too, instead sending a final glare at Potter and returning to monitoring the devilspawn and their…he hesitated to call them potions…concoctions.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry was somewhat disappointed by the professor’s reaction, or rather non-reaction. He’d somewhat expected that, but it would’ve been so much more fun if the potions master had thrown a temper-tantrum or something, or if he‘d had more trouble changing it back. For one brief, shining moment the professor had had entirely rainbow hair. If only it could have stuck for a couple of days it would’ve been perfect.

That was okay. Harry was far from out of ideas. In fact…Harry got out another vial, quietly bottling a bit of the day’s potion for his own use in addition to the one he would hand into the professor. He was one of the few that had finished, despite his antics, and the professor went around evanescoing potions with a sneer. Finally as the class started packing up their books and potions kits, the potions master spoke up.

“Potter.”

Harry looked up, tensing.

“Stay after class.” Harry finished up packing and stayed put. He hasn’t hit me yet. Harry reminded himself. This was either worth the risk, or it wasn’t. You knew before that he wasn’t going to just let it pass. Harry tensed more by measure that the other students left. Theo, Blaise, Ron, and Hermione were the last to leave, Theo and Blaise explaining matters to the two Gryffindors. Finally Harry was alone with the professor.

“Did you put the spell on my hair, Potter?”

“Yes.” He answered bluntly. Lying would make his revenge pointless, and give the professor the (wrong!) impression that Harry feared his reaction.

“Detention. Tonight, my office, 7:00.”

“Am I to serve two detentions simultaneously, professor?” Asked Harry insolently.

Snape sneered. “The others will simply be pushed back. Wear casual clothing unless you prefer to ruin your robes.” Perhaps a particularly unpleasant detention would prevent further mischief. The potions professor scoffed at his own idealism. Dream on, Severus. You’re in for the long haul with this one.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

That evening the potions master set Harry to collecting seeds from large plant pods called Madder Bladders, which were filled with a snot-like substance that smelled like gasoline and dyed the skin a glorious crimson the instant it was touched. No, Harry was informed, he could not have gloves. He decided that the professor looked far too pleased with himself, especially when he informed Harry that the dye would last for three days.

That evening, Harry arrived at the dorm with crimson splotches on his face, neck, and clothing, in addition to solid crimson forearms and hands.

That evening, Harry invited the Weasley twins into the Slytherin common room for a chat.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

Severus entered his office at promptly 5:00 the next morning, and gaped. Well this is…creative. He closed his eyes, and opened them again, but the view did not improve. The small office was entirely overrun by animals: somehow a cow, two pigs, a goat, and six chickens had taken up residence overnight. The laboratory door was mercifully closed, as the office was destroyed. Fecal matter from the three species commingled on every surface, food and feathers were scattered everywhere, any paper products within reach (in other words under six feet from the floor) had been chewed on, and the floor was strewn with the remains of his office supplies and papers. Someone had brought in a bale of hay, scattered chicken feed everywhere, and placed a cauldron of fresh water next to the desk. The air reaked of dander and offal, and the potions master couldn’t hear himself think over the din the chickens made. Finally the professor left, closing the door behind him, and took a few deep breaths of mercifully clean air.

I…am going to murder that child…and his accomplices. For clearly he had them - Severus knew that the boy was obeying his restrictions because he had a monitoring charm on him, which meant that Harry had outside help. Perhaps Theo and Blaise…or perhaps the twins.

Given the scale of this undertaking - Severus knew that Hagrid kept animals to feed his various charges, but how the animals had gotten into the castle unseen was beyond him - the potions master was betting on the twins. Or perhaps both the twins and the snakes. Hermione and Ron had seemed surprised at the rainbow hair incident, but Theo and Blaise had not. He couldn’t prove anything, though, and targeting the twins without proof was probably a bad plan. The only other thing he could think of was that Harry had somehow gotten the cooperation of a talented sixth or seventh year and transfigured the animals, but what student managed to transfigure a cow?

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

Harry woke up quickly as someone entered the dormitory, scrabbling for his glasses in the darkness. Then his curtains were ripped aside to reveal an irate Severus Snape. Harry barely had time to flinch as the potions master latched onto the back of his neck and dragged him out of the dormitory. What time is it? He wondered.

The castle was entirely dark - nobody was awake other than himself and the professor, and Harry found himself battling panic. The man didn’t even speak, just kept dragging him deeper into the dungeon. Where are we going? What’s he going to do to me? Harry stomped viciously on that thought. I am NOT scared, damnit! If I was gonna be scared, I should’ve not pissed the man off in the first place. At that moment they arrived at the professor’s office, and Harry was shoved inside. He looked around in wonder. I’m gonna take what’s coming to me, and it’ll be worth it...

“Was this you, too?”

Harry smiled innocently. “Not directly. I do owe someone a favor, though” Harry looked around again, taking in the smell, the noise, the carnage. A BIG favor.

“Who helped you?”

“Oh, come on. You don’t really expect me to answer that, do you? That‘s no way to reward a ally.” The twins’ll be glad to know that you know it’s them and can’t do anything about it.

Severus gritted his teeth, trying hard to keep his temper. He’s testing you. Don’t screw up. And so the potions master just handed Harry a length of rope, a toothbrush, and bottle of harsh cleaning solution.

“It is currently 5:15AM. I expect the animals to be removed, and this room to be spotless, by the time you leave for class, and I expect you to get to class on time. If you fail you can expect another week of detention. Any use of magic is forbidden. Get to work.”

With that, the potions master walked into his laboratory, leaving Harry staring hopelessly at the destruction. It was still worth it, but…

Okay…first the animals, Harry thought.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

At 8:45 an utterly exhausted-looking Harry knocked on Snape’s door. At Snape’s call to enter, he opened the door and peered inside.

“I have finished, sir.”

The potions master got up from where he was bent over a steaming cauldron to look out and found himself shocked for the second time that day. The room was…spotless. Just like he’d specified. The desk and floor were clean, no trace of animal food or waste anywhere, even in the cracks between the floorboards. The animals and destroyed papers were gone. Even the walls had been scrubbed. Severus was impressed despite himself. This kid could clean! He’d not show the brat that, though. The last thing he deserved at the moment was praise.

“You are dismissed.” Harry just nodded and left, thoroughly filthy and run down, but smiling privately to himself. Wait ’till you see your classroom. For once Harry regretted not having potions that day. The twins did, though, and he was sure they‘d tell him all about it.

HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP

That afternoon Harry got an owl directing him to report to Snape’s office immediately after class. Harry arrived at Snape’s office door at 3:30, fighting harder than ever to not show fear. Surely this time he had broken through the potions master’s farce: the man had been angry about the animals in his office; he’d have been furious to find that Harry had simply moved them to his classroom.

At least Snape’d had time to cool down, since then, which usually helped, but Harry doubted that it would be enough. He doesn’t drink, though…There was nothing for it. As usual Harry would take what was coming to him. He’s not going to kill the fucking “savior of the wizarding world“…on purpose anyway. He knocked, and managed not to stumble back as the potions master unexpectedly walked out to him.

“Come with me.”

This is different. Different was not good. Nevertheless he reacted as he always did, lifting his chin and clenching his jaw around his fear. The professor’s office was private enough, he reminded himself. The man wouldn’t need to bring him elsewhere to hurt him.

In fact, the potions master seemed to be leading him out of the dungeons, into more and more public areas. Then they were outside, and headed towards…Hagrid’s hut? Harry knew Hagrid from when the huge man had taken him to Diagon Alley and bought him Hedwig: his first-ever birthday present. He hadn’t had time to interact much with him since, but he relaxed some as they approached: Hagrid was sort of like another kid, despite his size. He wouldn’t hurt Harry.

Snape told Hagrid to send Harry back at 6:30, and Harry to shower before showing up at his office at 7:00, then left Harry with the gentle giant. He didn’t have much time to rejoice in his luck, though, as Hagrid led him to a huge, smelly barn about half a kilometer behind his hut.

“Usually this’d be my job, but Severus said that you’re to take over for a couple of hours, so here you go.” He handed Harry a pitchfork. “You’re to be cleanin’ stalls. Go ahead and take that wheelbarrow there. First ye take out the dirty hay an’ the manure and pile ’em up in that pile over there. Then ya go and refill th’ stall with straw from those bales over there. Th’ Thestrals like it nice and thick. When yer finished the one, move ye right on to the next. I’ll be sure get ’ya when it’s time to go.”

Harry started towards the first stall with a sigh, but stopped when Hagrid called again. “Eh, I almos’ forgot. Ye can’t use any magic for’t - the thestrals’re a bit touchy about such things.”

Three hours later Harry trudged his way back up towards the castle, muscles all over trembling with fatigue. His hair, clothing, and skin were soaked with sweat and streaked with grime. He was panting when he finally reached the Slytherin common room, enough so that its occupants noticed. Prefect Rosalind stopped him before he stepped through the portrait hole, pointing to his shoes. Harry promptly removed them and headed straight for the showers in his sock feet, ignoring the stares brought on by his appearance.

Fifteen minutes later he was clean, and dry, and dressed, and wanting nothing more than to climb into bed. Nevertheless he walked back out the portrait hole and headed down to Snape’s office, where Snape smirked at his weak glare, let him in, and pointed at the desk that he had once again set up in front of his own.

“It seems that along with several hours of my own work, a certain goat ate your previous lines, Potter. You’ll have to start over.”

THAT woke Harry up. God, no. The potions master’s gaze was relentless, though, and Harry didn’t dare protest…especially considering that whether the claim that they’d been eaten was true or not, he deserved the extra work for destroying Snape papers. Whatever Harry might say of Snape, the man seemed to cling to his own idea of “fair.” Like giving me a week of grounding over not taking a stupid potion “fair.” I didn’t do anything to him that time. Harry reminded himself, and revised his thought. The man was fair, when he found it convenient to be so…or maybe amusing…or profitable. Maybe someone paid him. Harry couldn’t tell.

Will Snape let me out at 10:00 like he did last time? Harry wondered. Then he once again gave up on thinking. He knew his paragraph from memory now, and so just started writing.

1. ‘Rules are put in place in order to keep me safe, and are therefore not to be ignored. My life is worth more than a Rememberall. I must learn to value it as highly, and guard it as carefully, as those around me do.’

Harry was really exhausted, this time, and before he’d gotten through three renditions he found his head nodding. He’d realize he’d stopped writing, and jerk his head up and stare at the page, willing himself to stay awake and keep writing, but two lines later he’d be dozing again.

Finally the potions master stood up and started wandering the room as he had before, and, as before, Harry found himself tensing, no longer tempted to fall asleep. Harry’s muscles had just gotten over being sore from the last time he’d attempted to write and keep track of Snape at the same time, and this time his shoulders and back were already tired from shoveling. By the twentieth line he felt himself getting sore, and by the fortieth he was cramping up. By the time he started the fiftieth he couldn’t deal with it any longer, and whipped around to growl at the infernal man.

“Would you please stop lurking?”

“Why, does it bother you?”

Harry stuck out his chin angrily. “No.”

“Well, then, no.”

51. ‘Rules are put in place in order to keep me safe, and are therefore not to be ignored. My life is worth more than a Rememberall. I must learn to value it as highly, and guard it as carefully, as those around me do.’

But Harry couldn’t concentrate, and it wasn’t long before he surrendered, turning around again to speak.

“Fine!”

“Fine, what?”

“Fine, yes! It bothers me! Would you stop?!”

“What bothers you?”

“Your…lurking!” Harry shouted, frustrated.

“Why?” Snape asked calmly.

Harry went back to writing.

52. ‘Rules are put in place in order to keep me safe, and are therefore not to be ignored. My life is worth more than a Rememberall. I must learn to value it as highly, and guard it as carefully, as those around me do.’

53. ‘Rules are put in place in order to keep me safe, and are therefore not to be ignored. My life is worth more than a Rememberall. I must learn to value it as highly, and guard it as carefully, as those around me do.’

Harry tried to force his shoulders down, to ease the ache, but Harry could practically feel the potions master’s presence behind him, and he desperately wanted to turn and watch. The skin on the back of his neck prickled and his shoulders tightened back up. Damnit I can’t DO this! He didn’t think it would work, but he turned around again and met the professor’s eyes.

“Please stop lurking behind me, sir. It bothers me.”

The professor inclined his head. “Better, but I still want to know why.”

Harry clenched his teeth, but answered through them, his words clipped. “I just don’t like having people behind me. Sir.”

“Very well.” And the man moved back to his desk.

What the hell was THAT all about? Harry was too tired to really think on it, though, so he returned to his lines.

54. ‘Rules are put in place in order to keep me safe, and are therefore not to be ignored. My life is worth more than a Rememberall. I must learn to value it as highly, and guard it as carefully, as those around me do.’

Finally able to relax a little, Harry wrote the rest of his lines with only his hand cramping, and found that by 10:00 he had managed one hundred and fifty neatly written statements. As before, the potions master looked up at precisely 10:00, and asked to see his progress.

“Well done. You’re dismissed.”

Harry turned away gratefully before being called back.

“Potter!” Snape reached into a cabinet behind his desk, bringing out a glass jar with a broad opening and a large cork. “Put this on your shoulders, and wherever else you need it.”

Harry studied the hand the potions master thrust out towards him before gingerly taking the salve from him. It was blindingly, painfully blue, but Harry knew it would work at whatever it was supposed to do. The man was too proud to give out imperfect potions or salves. Harry knew what to say, but the words sounded strange on his lips.

“Thank you.” But don’t think this is a truce, ’cause it’s not. Harry had far too many ideas now to abandon them for one stupid salve, and besides, he still had at least twelve detentions to go. If the man wanted a truce, he could give Harry his free-time back.

Finally Harry dragged his way back to his dorm, thinking of nothing more than how good his bed was going to feel. He wondered a bit at just how tired he was feeling before remembering his abrupt 5:15 wake-up call and subsequent exhausting day. He could hardly believe that the office clean-up had been just that morning - it felt like a week had gone by since then.

Finally Harry got up to his dorm. He brushed his teeth quickly before climbing into bed and pulling the curtains closed. He undressed, feeling his shoulders and neck pull as he took his shirt off. He pulled out his salve and carefully stuck a finger into it. How do I know it’s not a perfectly brewed contact poison? His shoulders really were sore, though, so he gently spread the blue stuff on and rubbed it in.

The effect was almost instantaneous. Warmth seemed to radiate from the salve, somehow dissolving the tension in his muscles, leaving them tired and limp, but not sore. Gaining confidence, he grabbed a little more salve, spreading it as thinly as he could over his shoulders and the back of his neck. By the time he was done he was almost half asleep. Carefully capping the salve, Harry pulled up his covers and slept.