Harry sat on the edge of his bed, his head hanging down. He knew he was going to be in big trouble for using magic- again- after he’d already been warned with stinging letter from the Ministry a few weeks before. 

He hadn't really meant to use magic, but he also knew that when he let his emotions get out of control, sometimes things just...happened. To be honest, he didn't really feel that badly about the destruction he'd caused to the downstairs after a fight with Dudley got ugly. Part of him felt justified, but another part of him felt extremely guilty, mostly because he didn't want to let Dumbledore down. He hadn’t meant to blast the living room to pieces, per se, but he also hadn’t made much of an effort to control things once they'd gotten out of hand. 

As the living room fell to pieces, Harry ran upstairs to his bedroom and locked the door behind him. He waited what seemed like an eternity for someone to come upstairs so the drama could continue, but instead it sounded like something else was going on down below.  He didn’t have to strain very hard to hear Vernon yelling at what seemed to be someone from the Ministry, who must have come to intervene on Harry’s behalf.  Harry held his breath and put his ear to the door, hoping to figure out what was going on.

“Do you see what he has done! That mangy ingrate has destroyed my home!!” Uncle Vernon was in a real rage, and his anger was clearly visible to anyone standing in the room as his bloated face turned from its normal blotchy pink to a nearly purple color. “After all we’ve done for him, putting a roof over his head, feeding him, looking after him all of these years. He’s a delinquent!”

“Yes, Mr. Dursley, you don’t have to convince me, I am quite aware of Mr. Potter’s inadequacies.”

Harry froze, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up straight as his heart began to pound. He recognized the low silky voice immediately. No, he would not be lucky enough to be hauled off by a member of the Ministry, unfortunately for Harry, the voice he was hearing downstairs was none other than his dreaded Potions Master, Professor Snape.

“Allow me to apologize for Mr. Potter’s behavior, and assure you that he will not be causing you any further problems. I will be happy to take care of this mess, and unless you have any reservations, I will be taking your nephew back with me so that he may be properly…dealt with, for his infractions.”

“Yes, well, we hope he will be sorted out straight away” came the high pitched squeal of Petunia Dursley. “Frankly, we couldn’t care less if we never had to see him again.”

“Nothing but trouble, this one,” chimed in Vernon. “You can take him, no skin off my nose.”

Petunia nodded with enthusiasm as Snape pulled his wand out of his sleeve, and with a quick flick of his wrist, put everything back in order.

“Well then, if you don’t mind, I will just collect Mr. Potter and we will be on our way.” And with that, Snape headed up the stairs, smirking to himself as he thought about what would lie ahead for the famous Boy Who Lived.

Harry could hear the slow deliberate steps as Snape made his way up the stairs. He glanced at the window wondering if he could possibly make it to the ground in one piece, but by the time he'd thought about it Snape was already standing outside his room.

The doorknob didn’t even turn, but the door flew open to reveal a very unhappy Professor Snape. He waited a moment for the excuses to begin, but Harry sat silently on his bed, perhaps recognizing that his fate was sealed.

“Well? You’re in a world of trouble now, Potter, I hope you know that” Snape said, the bedroom door slamming closed behind him. He contained the urge to give the boy a good smack right there, knowing full well he deserved it.

Harry said nothing, he just bent his head down and looked at his feet. He knew he was in trouble, and there was no use fighting against it.

“Right.  Well, silence suits me just fine, so feel free to stay that way,” Snape said in a low voice as he grabbed the boy’s upper arm. “Brace yourself, Potter, and do try not to vomit.”

Harry hardly had a moment to think about what Snape had said before the two of them apparated out of Little Winging and into an unfamiliar dark street.  Harry stumbled and nearly fell to the ground, but Snape kept a firm grip on his arm, albeit at a distance in case Harry happened to get sick. After a few seconds, Harry righted himself while Snape looked on cautiously, and once he was sure Potter was not going to pass out or throw up, the two of them began to walk.

“Where are we? Where are we going?” Harry asked in a shaky voice, slightly more unnerved now that he was alone with Snape in a dark and shady looking neighborhood. His mind began to swim with all kinds of possibilities as to what Snape would and could do to him. He was starting to wish he’d put up more of a fight back at the Durselys, or at least tried to explain that the whole destruction-by-magic thing wasn’t his fault.

“Be quiet. I’ll explain everything shortly, now keep walking” and with that, Harry and Snape continued down the dark, deserted streets until they came to a large house at the end of an empty cul-de-sac. With a quick wave of his wand and a brief incantation, the front door opened and the two walked inside. Or rather, Snape walked inside dragging a reluctant Harry who was sure if he entered the house he would never see the light of day ever again.

Snape took Harry into living room, where he immediately walked over to the fireplace and lit a fire. As light filled the room, Harry saw that the living room was quite large, with a sprawling oriental rug, leather couches, and several dusty portraits hanging on the walls. Harry hovered just inside the doorway, letting his head hang down and wrapping both of his arms around him, partly for warmth, but mostly out of fear. He started to shiver just a bit and his lower lip trembled when he thought about the possibility that he would never see Hogwarts or his friends ever again.

Snape's voice resounded in the large room, “Sit down, Potter, and try to keep the pathetic Oliver Twist orphan posturing to a minimum.  While I’m less than thrilled to have had to waste an evening fetching a delinquent wizard child from a bunch of Muggles, I can assure you that you have much more to worry about than dealing with me at this moment. I’m sure you are aware, that after several clear warnings from the Ministry, you have once again violated the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, and this time you are facing more than an angry letter.”

“But, it wasn’t my fault! You don’t understand, I didn’t mean for any of it to happen!” Harry was beginning to get hysterical, when Snape came swooping toward him in flash, grabbing him by both of the shoulders and giving him a quick shake.

“Silence! This is not the first time you’ve flouted the rules, Potter, and I’m afraid that the Ministry’s tolerance has run out. Keep your tears for the judge, I’m wholly uninterested in your excuses.  Now, sit on this sofa while we wait for Dumbledore, he will decide where you will go while you await your trial.”

With that, Snape pushed Harry onto the sofa, while he stormed off into the kitchen to prepare himself a strong cup of tea. Before he left the room, he turned back around and looked Potter directly in the eyes, “Don’t even think about getting off the couch, Potter. If I have to chase you around anymore this evening, you will be very sorry indeed.”

Harry could hear Snape tinkering about in the kitchen, and part of him thought it might be worth trying to make a run for it. Another part of him knew that a successful escape was futile, and would probably just get him killed, or even tortured for days at the hands of his sadistic Potions master. His heart beat rapidly in his chest, and the only thing that kept him somewhat sane was the thought that Dumbledore might be coming to his rescue.

A few moments later, Snape came back into the living room with a tray filled with two teacups, a tea pot, some lemon and a bowl of sugar.  Harry’s eyes perked up for a moment, thinking maybe he would at least get a cup of tea. 

  “Don’t get any ideas Potter, this isn’t for you. I’m expecting the Headmaster to arrive at any moment now to collect you, so just behave yourself and sit quietly on the couch.”

Almost on cue, Dumbledore arrived through the fireplace with a small pop. Harry immediately felt a sense of relief, hoping at least now Snape couldn’t kill him.

Dumbledore smiled politely as he stepped out of the fire. “Harry, Severus, nice to see you both.”

“Headmaster,” Snape nodded, motioning toward the empty loveseat in front of the coffee table where he had placed the tea.  Harry looked up briefly at his headmaster, but felt so deeply ashamed that he couldn’t hold eye contact for more than a split second. He felt horrible that the headmaster had had to make this trip because he had gotten into trouble, again.

“Yes, well, I suppose we should get down to business then. Harry, are you alright, my boy? Are you injured or anything? It sounds like you had quite an eventful evening at the Dursley’s,” Dumbledore said, as he walked to the side of the couch where Harry was sitting and patted him on the shoulder.  Harry couldn’t bring himself to look up.

“I’m fine sir. I don’t know what happened exactly, I just…I just got angry and things started to happen.” Harry started to choke back tears, but found the strength to control himself when Dumbledore gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.  Snape desperately wanted to roll his eyes, but decided it would be wiser to keep his disgust to himself for the time being.  

Dumbledore walked back to the loveseat and sat down with his tea.

“ Well, Harry, as you might have gathered, the unfortunate events of this evening came to the attention of the Ministry, and let us just say, they are not very pleased.  Normally this kind of repeated violation of the Decree for Underage Sorcery could lead to expulsion from Hogwarts, or even serving time in a juvenile detention center.”

At this point tears started to fall from Harry’s eyes freely, and just he couldn’t hold it in anymore. During this conversation, Snape managed to keep a straight face, but the whole time he was secretly relishing the thought of the brat being tossed into a borstal and forced to spend the next several years doing manual labor.

“Not to worry, Harry. I know that you are not willfully using magic against the rules, so I have talked with some people, and the Ministry has agreed to release you into my custody until a suitable time can be found to take you to trial, to explain the circumstances and work out a solution.”  Dumbledore put down his teacup, and looked at Harry, trying to judge his reaction.

“So, what will happen to me now?” Harry asked, wiping the tears off of his face with the back of his hand. “Am I going to go back to Hogwarts with you for the rest of the summer?”

“I’m afraid not, my dear boy, I have many pressing things to take care of before the term begins.  I will not be able to look after you properly, which is why I have asked Professor Snape to pick you up this evening.”

With that, Snape slammed his teacup down and looked up, sneering at the Headmaster.  “Excuse me, Headmaster, but where are you going with this?”

“Well, Severus, perhaps we can discuss this in more detail, but in short, I will need you to look after Harry for me.”

Snape stood up, fuming, and glaring at Dumbledore.  He quickly snapped his head around at Harry and pointed up, “Potter, you will go upstairs this instant. At the top of the stairs, take a left, and the first door on your right will be a guest room.  You will wash your face, brush your teeth, and go to bed.  IMMEDIATELY. I do not want to see or hear you for the rest of the evening. Is that clear?”

He turned back around to face Dumbledore, “The Headmaster and I need to have a discussion,” he added, not bothering to hide the bitterness in his voice.

“Goodnight, Harry,” Dumbledore said softly, and with that Harry got up from the couch and scurried toward the stairs, hoping and praying that Snape would put up a good fight. He did not want to spend the summer with Snape anymore than Snape wanted him there.  He was desperately hoping that Dumbledore would have no choice but to take him back to Hogwarts and let him spend the summer hanging around Gryffindor tower until the rest of the students came back.

While Harry got ready for bed (he was surprised to see a comb, a toothbrush, and a pair of pajamas already sitting on the bed), downstairs the conversation continued. Harry couldn’t hear exactly what was going on, but it was clear it was a heated debate. He strained to stay awake, but before the long conversation came to an end, Harry fell asleep, the two distinct voices still carrying on in the living room.

When Harry woke up the next morning, he had a moment of panic before he remembered where he was. He grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and looked around the room as the events of the night before came flooding back to him.

He hated to admit it, but he’d actually slept quite well. The bed was large and comfortable, and although the room was hardly what one would call cheery, there was a warm quality to the dark wood and the velvet curtains that hung over the windows.

Harry washed up quickly in the bathroom and put on his clothes from the day before.  He considered staying upstairs until someone came to get him, but decided he could be waiting there all day; besides, there wasn’t really much to do up in his room besides lay there and think about all of the horrible things that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours.

When he arrived at the bottom of the stairs, Harry could see Snape sitting in the living room with a cup of tea, looking quite pensive.

“Nice of you to make an appearance Potter," Snape said, as he put his teacup down. “And before you start whining about being hungry, breakfast is laid out in the kitchen.”

“Um, thanks,” Harry said as he made his way toward the kitchen, not wanting to invite any unnecessary conversation.  To be honest he was starved; he never got much to eat at the Dursley’s anyway, but last night he hadn’t eaten at all since the drama went down before dinner was ever served.

Harry walked into the kitchen, and began to make himself a plate of toast and jam, grabbing a boiled egg at the last minute when his stomach gave an angry growl. Snape had gotten up from the couch and followed closely behind Harry, making him a bit uncomfortable with his brooding presence. Harry ignored the Potions Master and took a seat at the table so he could start working on his breakfast. He wasn’t much of a morning talker, and was really hoping he could just eat his breakfast in peace.

“I’ll get to the point, Potter,” Snape huffed as he sat down across the table from Harry, both arms on the table as he leaned forward. “You’ll be spending the rest of the summer here with me."

Harry's heart sank, but he kept eating his food, trying not to give Snape the satisfaction of a reaction. This was worse than he thought; if he had had any idea he could end up with Snape for the whole summer, maybe he would have tried a little harder to keep his magic under control. This was way worse than any punishment the Ministry could have given him. And what was Dumbledore thinking, just leaving him here with Snape? He knows how Snape feels about him!

“Believe me, Potter, I’m as thrilled as you are. But this is the way it is, so the sooner you get used to the idea, the better things will be. There will be no complaining or begging to Dumbledore, everything has already been arranged and I will be responsible for you until the fall.”

All of a sudden Harry began to feel ill. There were more than two months left until the next term started, and he couldn’t imagine spending that much time stuck here with Snape.

His mind began spinning and he could feel his emotions rising up. He pushed his plate away and stood up from the table. There had to be a way out of this, he couldn’t stay here, he would go insane!

“Sit back down, Potter, and eat your breakfast. I’m in no mood to play games with you this morning.”

The patronizing tone in Snape's voice put Harry over the edge and his frustration with the whole situation started to boil over.

“You’re in no mood? Well I’m in no mood to spend the rest of my summer living here with you!” Harry yelled, storming off from the table, his chair making a thud as it crashed to the floor behind him.

 Harry bolted out into the hallway, suddenly realizing he had probably made a mistake storming away from the breakfast table like that, but now that was already committed to this little outburst, he decided to make his way to the front door. He made it all the way to the foyer when he felt a strong grip on his arm, jerking him backward like a rag doll.

“I’ve put up with your disrespect long enough, Potter. You may get away with it at school, but the hell if I’m going to let you act like such an impertinent brat in my house.”

Snape dragged Harry by the arm back toward the living room. Harry struggled to get his arm free, but Snape was much stronger. At one point Harry lifted both of his feet off the ground and tried to force all of his weight down so Snape would let go, but he didn’t let go, he lifted him straight up in the air and gave him a sharp slap on the butt before continuing to drag him toward one of the couches in the living room.

“Let go of me!!! You can’t treat me like this, you’re hurting me! Stop it!!!” Harry screamed as Snape grabbed both of his arms and turned him around to face him eye to eye.

“Enough, Potter! You have had this coming for a long time, but now that you are living in my house, you are under my rules, and I will not tolerate your outrageous behavior.”

Without further discussion, Snape sat down on the couch and pulled Harry across his lap and began to spank the boy. Harry was kicking and screaming, but Snape was unaffected, and he continued to rain down smack after smack on the boy’s small backside.

“Stop it! Please, Snape!!” Harry yelled, overcome with emotion from the shock of what was happening to him, and everything else that had come to pass over the last day or so. The pain was beginning to build up in his backside, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take, not to mention the humiliation of being over his teacher’s knee like a naughty kindergartener.

“I will stop when I feel like you’ve had enough,” Snape said, barely missing a beat. “I should have done this last night, for making me give up a peaceful evening at home to come cleaning up yet another one of your messes!”

Snape felt relief at finally giving the boy his comeuppance. If you asked him, the boy could have used this at several points over the last year, but unfortunately this kind of old school punishments had become passé over the last several years. Although corporal punishment was no longer technically allowed at Hogwarts, there were occasions when Snape would dole out a smacking or two to members of his own house when they were seriously out of line. Dumbledore turned a blind eye as long as no one made serious complaints about it, and Snape found a little fear went a long way in keeping his Slytherins in line.

Smack, Smack, Smack, Snape kept a hearty pace as he enthusiastically continued the spanking. Harry thought it would never stop, but eventually Snape rested his hand on the small of Harry’s back and paused for a moment.

Harry was sobbing and his body was heaving with each cry, but he was no longer fighting against the punishment.

“In this house, Potter, you are a guest, and I am your guardian, and you WILL show me respect. Is that clear?” Snape asked, punctuating his question with a few more sharp smacks.

Harry, still crying freely, managed to sob out “Yes…” Smack “Oww, yes..ssssir.”

“Good, then get up and finish your breakfast and we will discuss all of this in a rational way. But if you cannot control your emotions, and you storm off again or talk to me rudely, you will find yourself back over my knee for a spanking that makes this one seem like a happy memory.”

Snape waited for Harry get up and watching the boy rub snot all over his hands and sleeves, he gave in and pulled out a handkerchief from one of his pockets.

Harry took the handkerchief without saying a word, still making little sobbing noises and obviously feeling quite sorry for himself. Snape was tempted to say something snide, but decided to hold back for the time being while Harry got himself together. It was fairly clear that the boy had never been spanked before, and he was quite distraught, so he figured he would spare the little brat even more embarrassment by saying nothing more about it.

After wiping his face and giving his bottom a good rub, Harry walked slowly back to the kitchen and sat back down (gingerly) at the breakfast table. He didn’t really feel like eating, but he also didn’t want to give Snape another reason to punish him, so he kept his head down and took his time putting jam on the toast before nibbling reluctantly at the corner of it.  

The two sat in silence for a few moments before Snape finally spoke up.

“Now, as I was saying before, you will be spending the rest of the summer here. I have signed a contract with Dumbledore and the Ministry giving me temporary guardianship for you over the summer. Part of that includes a statement saying that I am personally responsible for ensuring that you do NOT use anymore magic this summer, under any circumstance. So, you can see, Potter, that my name and reputation are on the line now, so I will be keeping you on a very short leash.”

Snape glanced over at Harry to make sure he was paying attention. Harry didn’t look up, too embarrassed to look his new guardian in the eyes, but he had heard every word. Very clearly.

“So what are you going to do with me, then? Lock me in a dungeon somewhere and chain me up until school starts?” Harry asked with a slight hint of indignation, but not enough to get him in trouble.

“Honestly, Potter, you’re such a drama queen,” Snape sighed, as he leaned back and took a long sip from his tea. “While it would certainly be much easier if I just threw you in a dungeon for the next few months, feeding you table scraps and ignoring you while I carried on with the many things I have planned, we have some serious work to do.”

“Work?”

“Yes, Potter, work. Do I need to define it for you? I know it isn’t a concept you are overly familiar with, but I’m afraid Dumbledore expects me to get this little “emotional magic” problem of yours under control before the Ministry decides to lock you up in kiddie Azkaban."

Harry looked up from his plate and his eyes got wide. “It isn’t a problem. It isn’t my fault, it just happens when other people are mean to me, when they say horrible things about me…my family…and I, I, “ and Harry started to cry again. He didn’t want to, but he started thinking about all of the terrible things the Durselys had said to him, especially Dudley who loved to rub it in that his parents were “freaks” and all sorts of other derrogatory words.

Snape stared at the crying boy for a moment and rolled his eyes. He really didn’t want to spend his summer dealing with an overemotional adolescent wizard. And not just any wizard, but Harry bloody Potter, the Boy Who Lived to annoy his professors by breaking the rules and looking for trouble at every turn. Seriously? This was going to be the savior of the wizarding world?

“Honestly, Potter, get a hold of yourself.” Snape wasn’t sure what else to say, that was pretty much as sympathetic as he could get. He knew it didn’t come out very well, but what was he supposed to do? Give the boy a hug and a damn lemon drop? He sighed to himself, shaking his head in disbelief at what his calm, peaceful summer had become. But he also thought about what Dumbledore had said to him the night before, and knew he had made a commitment to keep the brat safe, and help him get his magic under control before he really hurt someone, or himself.

“You don’t understand! You have no idea what I’ve been through!” Harry shouted, not caring anymore if Snape thought he was being rude. At this point his face had started to turn red and he was getting really angry.

“Watch your tone, Potter. Do not test me. I told you we could discuss things like rational people, but I will not continue to speak to you if you are going to throw a fit.”

Frustration was building up in Harry, and he knew something bad would happen soon. Snape could see it too, and he decided he had to put an end to it before things got out of hand.

Snape jumped out of his chair and swooped over to Harry, who had balled his fists up on the table and was breathing hard, tears streaming down his face. Harry braced himself for Snape to grab him, or slap him, but instead he felt a light pat on his shoulder.

“Take your dishes to the sink, Potter, and follow me to the study. We will have a cup of tea, read the Daily Prophet, and try to have this conversation again later- with a little less theatrics if you think can manage it.”

As Snape made his way toward the study, Harry sat there in disbelief, his balled up fists still on the table and the tears fresh on his face. He was shocked, and confused, but the angry feelings that had been welling up inside of him started to melt away. Not knowing what else to do, he took a deep breath, picked up his plate, deposited it in the sink and started following Snape down the hall, subconsciously reaching back to rub away some of the lingering sting in his backside.

“Well, this should be an interesting summer” Snape sneered quietly to himself as he pushed open the door to his study.  

Snape walked quietly into his study, not daring to look behind him but feeling that he had at least slightly diffused the situation.  He could hear Harry set the dishes into the sink, not quietly, but at least without a melodramatic slam. He took a deep breath and tried to reassure himself that against his best instincts, he needed to remain calm.  

He thought back to his conversation with Dumbledore, and tried to remind himself that he wasn’t doing this because he cared so much about the emotional whims of an overdramatic 12-year old, but because this particular boy represented so much to the wizarding world. Honestly, just the thought of this snot-nosed tween being the hope of so many people made him want to gag, but there was also a part of him who knew he was being unfair. He trusted Albus, and he knew that despite the fact that he looked like James had just spit him out, he also had Lily inside of him. He stopped himself from thinking of this further, it was all just too much.

Focus on the task at hand, he thought to himself. He wasn’t at Hogwarts, he didn’t have to play the role of the much-feared Potion’s Master, he was frankly exhausted and he was on his own territory. Snape sat down in his favorite wing-backed chair.  He took another long sip of tea, a deep breath and picked up a copy of the latest Daily Prophet. Harry slinked in with a sulky look on his face, eyes cast down, tear-stained face but at least he seemed to be in some control of his emotions.  

“Take a seat, Harry.  I’ve left the Quiddich section on the coffee table, along with the Comics.” Harry said nothing but plopped down on the couch with a sigh that made it obvious he was still in a mood.  Snape fought the urge to roll his eyes and tell him to take the attitude down a notch, but he knew Harry was dangerously close to breaking down and frankly, he didn’t have the energy for it right now.  

“If you’d prefer, you may choose to enlighten yourself with a book from my collection, although I ask that you only take those within your reach.” He let a wry smile slip as he continued, “As much as it might amuse me to see you lose an arm, or Merlin forbid,” he drawled sarcastically, “watch you disappear forever into the depths of one of the darker tomes, I’m afraid there are members of your fan-club who would irritate me to no end if you didn’t return to Hogwarts in one piece.”

Harry sat silently, his eyes still staring at the floor.  He was feeling a mix of so many emotions that he didn’t even know how to react.  The anger that had welled-up in him had subsided somewhat, but he was confused. He felt chastised and ashamed. He knew that he had let his anger get the best of him, and that despite the warnings, it was more than just “accidental magic.” He had threatened Dudley with his wand, and even though he hadn’t necessarily meant to cast a spell, the combination of his wand and his anger had resulted in a chain of events that he wasn’t proud of. He really just wanted to scare him off, but things had gotten out of hand (and not for the first time that summer), and he knew he was in deep trouble this time.  

Still, he thought to himself, how could he have ended up here, with Snape of all people. He truly regretted what he’d done but with the light of day, and the dull warmth of his recently smacked behind, he knew he wasn’t going to wake up from this nightmare. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was glad that he hadn’t been taken away and thrown into an institution somewhere.  

Harry didn’t say anything but reached for the Quiddich section. He stared at the moving image of one of the Seekers from the Chudley Canons executing an incredible dive for a snitch, but his mind was still elsewhere. As much as he loathed Snape, part of him was glad to be away from the Dursley’s, and he certainly was grateful to be sitting in a comfortable living room instead of a concrete floor in juvenile detention. Although, he wasn’t THAT comfortable sitting. 

The minutes ticked by, marked by a low tick coming from a grandfather clock in the back of the parlor. Snape quietly sipped his tea and read through the newspaper in silence. He was generally a man of few words, and he reveled in his ‘alone time’ to collect his thoughts and prepare his mental game plan. Although it was quiet, his mind was reeling with everything that had happened over the last 12 hours, but he tried not to show it. 

As it approached 9am, Snape put town his tea cup and his paper and looked over at Harry, who had been staring at the same page for half an hour. Knowing he had to break the silence, but not wanting to provoke another tantrum, he looked over at the sulking tween and attempted to choose his words carefully...although he couldn’t entirely depart from his baseline snark.  

“ Well then, if you’ve finished with your melodrama for the moment, perhaps we should discuss the details of this arrangement, and what I expect from you for the rest of the summer.”  He paused and waited for an answer.

Harry held onto the paper but still couldn’t bring himself to meet his professor’s eyes. Several sassy replies danced in his head, but given that he could still feel the remnants of Snape’s earlier displeasure on his backside, he decided to keep it simple. “Okay.” he said quietly, without looking up.  

“You would do well to look at me when I speak to you, “ said Snape, calmly but with authority. He really wasn’t in the mood for a battle of wills over something so trivial, but he also knew that it was important not to show any weakness if he wanted to set the boundaries for the next two months. 

Harry laid the paper down on his lap and looked up through the top of his glasses, his head still hung down, and his body telegraphing his shame and resignation.   “Sorry,” Harry mumbled.  

“Sorry, what?” Snape said, doing his best to try to maintain his stern professor tone.

 “Sorry, sir” Harry replied dutifully.

 “Right, well, I’ve indulged your abysmal attitude this morning, but this is where it ends, Potter.  However regrettable, Dumbledore and the Ministry have decided that you will remain under my strict supervision for the next two months, and I intend to fulfill my duty. As such, I would like to lay some ground rules so that we can attempt to make this as painless as possible.”

Snape still could not believe he was going to be stuck with this insolent brat for the next two months. His summer months had always been sacred, and he had planned to spend this vacation working on some of his latest potions and maybe writing up a few articles for the Journal of Medicinal Salves and Magical Potions. This was his time to recharge, away from the ungrateful and hormonal teenagers, and yet here he was babysitting, not just any student, but the one boy whose face alone makes his blood boil, his temper flare, and a tiny part of his heart ache with sadness. 

He really had tried everything to convince Dumbledore that this was an absurd idea, and that he couldn’t possible care for a child, much less, THE Harry Potter. They had gone back and forth for hours, but at he end of the discussion, Albus had played his trump cards and there was no way that Severus could refuse him. This was bigger than both of them and he knew it. Despite his best efforts, Snape had buckled under the thinly veiled emotional blackmail, and against his better judgement, his thoughts over the last day had drifted continuously back to Lily. He hated to admit it, but he knew if she were there he would never be able to say no to her. He also knew that made him weak, so he pushed those thoughts and feelings as far away as possible.  

Composing himself, he came back into his stern professor mode. “We are here, Mr. Potter, because you are unable to control your emotions and suffer from a serious lack in self-discipline, no doubt a result of years being spoiled and pampered without consequence. As a result, the responsibility has now fallen on me to ensure that we put an end to your unacceptable, and frankly dangerous, behavior.”

Snape paused for dramatic effect. Harry’s eyes had returned to the ground, where he was drawing invisible circles on the oriental rug with his foot.  Snape resisted the urge to demand eye contact again, and decided to continue. One has to choose his battles, he thought.

”As much as you may have enjoyed spending past summers being idle and lazy, that will not be tolerated here.”

 He waited for a sarcastic retort, but none came.   “I expect you to get up each morning and shower, make your bed, and tidy your room before coming to breakfast at 8:00am. You will then spend each morning before lunch reading and revising from your school books. I don’t think I need to explain to you, Mr. Potter, that your school work this past year has been less than stellar. While you may blame your years of muggle education for a lack in preparedness, moving forward, there will be no more excuses.”

Snape was starting to get into this now, and he wanted to ride his momentum to drive the point across, although he knew he had to be careful because Harry was still very vulnerable, and if he pushed it too far he would end up dealing with a meltdown. As irritated as he was to be spending his summer looking after the boy, there was a small part of him that was quite enjoying the fact that he was finally going to be able to put him in line. He was so tired of everyone coddling Harry, making excuses for him, and letting him flaunt the rules at every turn.  How could he ever fulfill the prophecy if he couldn’t even make it through a day without a tantrum or an emotional outburst?

He knew he had a lot of work to do, but Snape was up to the challenge. He couldn’t lie, he loved the idea that he had total control over the brat now, and he could finally see to it that his days of being treated like a prince were over.

“After lunch, you will do chores and then have time to go outside, weather permitting. In the afternoons you will do assignments on your own or we will work on specific skills together.  There may be times where I request your help in the potion’s lab, but if I am busy, I expect you to entertain yourself without drama.”

He paused again, waiting for a bit of cheek, but Harry stayed silent.

“You will have access to your room, the kitchen, the living room, and any common areas downstairs. My library, my lab, my bedroom, and any other rooms with the door closed are expressly off-limits unless I give you permission. You are to be in your room each evening at 9pm, and you may read or otherwise amuse yourself until lights are out at 10pm.”

” Finally, I would hope that after this morning you understand that I will absolutely not tolerate any disrespect, disobedience, or any other willful misbehavior in this house. If you fail to follow these rules, you will be punished... and believe me, Mr. Potter, I will not hesitate to put you over my knee each and every time you step out of line.  Do I make myself clear?”

 “Yes, sir.” Harry said, flatly, showing no emotion on his face. He felt like he was in a nightmare, but as much as he wished he could just wake up and none of this had happened, he knew he was stuck.  He felt defeated, bordering on hopeless, but he also realized there wasn’t much he could do right now. He was truly emotionally exhausted. 

Snape exhaled slowly. He could see that Harry was starting to withdraw into himself, and as much as he wanted to break him of his emotionally self-indulgent habits, he recognized that he wasn’t going to get very far if he pushed too much at once.  

“For now, I would like you to take this morning to reflect on your behavior. You will write two feet about the importance of controlling your anger, and the consequences of allowing your emotions to overtake you. I will call you down when it is time for lunch. You are dismissed.”

Without a word, Harry got up from the couch and walked solemnly to his bedroom. When he got upstairs, he laid down on his bed and allowed his thoughts to overtake him. He thought about his life at the Durseley’s and all he’d been through these many years. He thought about Ron and Hermione and how happy he had been at Hogwart’s, and then imagined how devastated he would be if he could never go back. He regretted ever threatening Dudley with his wand, and replayed the chaotic images that had taken place the night before. He thought about his parents and how his life might have been different if they had lived. Then his face burned red-hot with shame when he wondered if they would be disappointed in him right now. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks and he felt heavy with the weight of his new reality. 

Downstairs, Snape sipped his tea and steeped in his own deep thoughts. His life had changed so quickly. He was annoyed and angry and bitter—because those were emotions he allowed himself— but he also felt overwhelmed with the responsibility of having to care for this boy, and not just any boy, but THE boy. He realized that despite his cold and calm exterior, there were emotions stirring inside of him as well.  He quickly snapped out of it and allowed a small sneer to pass across his face. For the love of Merlin, he thought to himself, get yourself together, we already have one too many over-emotional people in this house.     
  

Snape picked up his empty teacup, sipped at it uselessly, and then put it back down. 

"Potter, you may be excused. I have work to do today, I expect you can entertain yourself?" Snape raised an eyebrow but kept his tone cool and unemotional. 

"Yeah, sure," Harry mumbled without giving eye-contact or looking up from the Quiddich page he was staring at. He wasn't really reading, but he was purposely avoiding his Professor. 

"Your manners are atrocious, Potter," Snape drawled, clearly annoyed. "While I'm sure the latest Quiddich results are enthralling, it is proper etiquette to make eye contact when someone speaks to you." He did his best to make his voice sound authoritative and stern, but not quite threatening. 

"Sorry," said Harry. He put the paper down and looked up at his Professor, keeping his head bent low but still giving him a brief moment of eye-contact.

"You will address me as Sir or Professor," said Snape, "Just because we are no longer at Hogwarts, does not mean that you will treat me as one of your minions or peers. You will do well to treat me with the proper respect, at ALL times, and I will not remind you again."

Snape knew he was laying it on a little thick, but he was annoyed and he wanted to set the standards early. He enjoyed having a reputation for being a strict teacher and an authoritarian presence at Hogwarts, and he knew the importance of setting boundaries early so that most of the time he didn't have to follow through on his threats.

"Sorry, Sir," said Harry, trying his best to maintain an uncomfortable eye-contact with Snape. 

"Right, well, we will reconvene for lunch at 12:30pm. I will be working in my lab, but you will be taking this time to reflect on your actions further and begin writing an essay on the importance of controlling one's emotions. Do take time to reference the many ways in which you've made mistakes in the past, and consider the possible consequences going forward."

"Yes, Sir," said Harry, flatly. He really had no energy to argue. 

"Very well. You will find parchment and a quill on the desk in your room. I will call you when it is time for lunch." 

Snape wasn't sure what else he wanted to say. The air was heavy with everything that had happened over the last day, and he just wanted to escape into his potion's lab to focus on some work and NOT have to deal with the Potter brat. He prayed the idiot could follow basic directions, and looking at him now, in a most pathetic state, he was pretty sure Potter would keep to himself. He had been quick to give him that spanking--maybe a little too quick-- but he had to admit that the brat had it coming and it had done wonders to change the dynamic. He hoped the effects would last. Snape was DEFINITELY not in the mood to spend the entire summer as a glorified kiddie minder. He knew he needed to lay down the rules early and hope something stuck. 

"You're excused, Potter," Snape said, longing desperately for a few hours alone to think about how the hell he was going to manage it all. 

Harry walked upstairs without another word, and returned to his bedroom where, sure enough, there was a desk with blank parchment and a quill and ink waiting for him. He was somewhat relived to be alone. He still couldn't process everything that had happened and while he was well-rested, he felt emotionally drained. 

Hours passed quietly while Harry dutifully reflected on his behavior and slowly wrote about his loss of emotions and how he could do better. It was dull and boring, but at least he didn't have to interact with anyone. 

At 12:30pm, Severus knocked on his bedroom door. "It's time for lunch," he said plainly. "Wash your hands and come downstairs." He turned quickly away quickly and made his way to the kitchen.

Harry put down the quill. He hadn't written more than a foot, but it was good enough. He went into the adjacent bathroom and washed his hands. He looked in the mirror...he looked gaunt. He had bags under his eyes. He sighed to himself while he washed with soap and water, scrubbing the ink off of the heel of his hand. "Get your shit together, Harry," he said to himself, "you've survived worse things."

He slinked down the stairs and walked quietly to the kitchen table. He pulled out a chair and sat quietly, purposely avoiding eye contact with Snape. 

The table had already been set, with plates full of fish, rice, and vegetables already on the table. Snape began to help himself before passing the dishes along to Harry. Harry stayed silent and didn't make eye-contact with Snape but said "Thank you" each time the plates were passed to him.  

"I hope things are coming along?" Snape said, eyeing Harry.  Harry moved his fork around on his plate without looking up. 

"Yes, sir." he said softly, the brought a fork of rice and fish to his mouth. 

"Excellent," said Snape, trying to give a tiny bit of encouragement without letting too much praise come through. "Once you finish your essay, you may have some free time to read, or even go outside. If you do choose to go outside, you may explore the grounds freely but I ask that you do not-- under any circumstances-- breach the wards and leave the grounds. We have several acres for you to roam around and explore, but it is MOST important that you stay within the property."

Harry nodded his head and continued eating. He supposed that walking around outside was better than sitting at his desk writing stupid nonsense about how he will "control his emotions" in future, but he was still alone, at Snape's house, and he didn't feel overly enthusiastic. 

Lunch continued in relative silence. After Harry had finished everything on his plate, he put his knife and fork down and sat quietly. 

"You may be excused, Potter," said Snape. The awkwardness of the entire meal hung in the air. "Finish your essay and then you may go outside."

Harry got up quietly from the table without saying a word and walked upstairs. He opened his bedroom door and returned to his desk. He was determined to stop overthinking this and write another foot that he knew would please his professor. Yes, he was sorry, but he also knew that this was an exercise in humility, and all he had to do was lay out a few past misdeeds and write about how he was going to do SO much better in the future. 

It was bullshit, and Harry knew it. Yes, he felt bad, but also, he felt like his life had been pretty damn unfair and he wasn't any worse behaved than anyone else. At the same time, he knew that in situations like this it was easier just to put down whatever his professors wanted to hear. He was going to do his best "contrite boy" impression on paper. 

For the next hour, Harry really got into character. He decided to take it as a challenge to sound as contrite as possible and really make it seem like he knew the error of his ways and would NEVER, EVER act so impossibly again. He allowed himself to indulge in his own indignancy at the assignment and then he really let the creative juices flow. 

Harry smiled to himself while he wrote his closing paragraph: "I have learned, after losing control of my temper and giving into my emotions, that nothing positive ever comes out of these moments. Upon deep reflection, I have realized that I only serve to harm myself--and in some cases, other people-- by not taking a moment to control my emotions and take more logical decisions. I am TRULY sorry for all of the damage I have caused- I have come to see that no good comes from these feelings, and will do everything in my power to stop, recognize my feelings, take a moment to calm my senses, and act in a more respectful and thoughtful way."

Harry smiled to himself as he finished the last few inches of this essay. What total and complete BULLSHIT. He knew it was what Snape wanted to read, and he thought he had done a pretty damn good job of making it sound beleivable. It was crap--obviously--but he reveled in the fact that he could put one over on his professor while seeming like he really cared. Method acting, that's what they call it right? Harry smirked as he reread the last few lines. Oh yeah, Snape would eat this up. The dummy. 

After checking for any blatant errors, Harry was pleased with himself and decided to take the essay downstairs so he could maybe spend a little time exploring outdoors. 

He knocked on the Professor's lab door. "Enter," he heard Snape say, dramatically. 

"I've finished the essay, Professor," said Harry, trying to sound as apologetic as possible. "I'm really sorry for my emotional outbursts, I'll do my best to try to control myself in future."

Harry kept his eyes wide with an innocent look up at his professor, while smiling wryly to himself for putting on the act of someone who really felt bad. God, Snape was sooooo gullible.

"Very well," said Snape, who was hunched over a cauldron. He waited a moment while he watched his potion turn just the right color before he lifted his eyes up to meet Harry's.

"Put your essay on my table," Snape said, with an upward flick of his head and without a hint of emotion. "I will review it shortly. If you are done for today, you may go outside and explore the property. You may not leave the grounds. If you get near the edge of the property, you will feel a buzzing sensation from the wards as you get near, and if you cross them, you will feel a shock. Clearly--if you feel any of these sensations--then you should immediately return to the property."

Harry nodded his head. "Yes, Sir," he said respectfully.

Snape walked a few steps closer to Harry and looked him directly in the eye. "I'm giving you this privilege, Potter, but I expect you to follow my instructions. You have two hours to walk around and enjoy the outdoors, but I do not want to have to chase you down or go looking for you when your time is up."

"No, Sir," said Harry. "I'll stay on the property and be back inside in a few hours."

"See that you do, Potter. I can promise you that if I have to track you down or retrieve you from outside of this property, you will be very sorry indeed," Snape replied, glaring at Harry with his best 'I mean it' stare. 

"Very well- you may go," said Snape. And with that, Harry took his leave immediately, not wanting to give Snape anymore opportunities to lecture or threaten him. 

Harry walked out of the back doors and the sun hit his face. "Oh my god, it feels so nice to be outside" Harry thought to himself. It was the first time in a while that the sun hit his face and he could breathe fresh air and just enjoy the beautiful June day. 

There were gardens all around him where Snape was no doubt growing many of his supplies. There was a small water garden that Harry walked over to and smiled as he saw the goldfish swimming around in happily. At the edge of the property were some trees and what looked to be a forest. 

Oh yes, there was plenty of property to explore, and Harry was honestly just SO glad to have a place to walk, breathe fresh air, and feel the sunshine on his skin. 

As he walked and marveled at the flowers, plants, water garden, and small animals, Harry allowed his mind to wander. He thought of his friends Ron and Herminone, he wondered what they were up to right now. He thought of Dudley and his relatives and took a moment to be grateful he wasn't dealing with them right now. He imagined what his ideal summer would be like--you know, if he hadn't have lost his parents. He imagined how life must be like for Hermione and Ron and Seamus and Dean and how it must feel to go home over the summer and just relax and have fun. 

He sat for a while in the grass on the edge of the forest. He imagined he had his mom and his dad and they were going to spend a few weeks at the beach. Or visiting grandparents. He smiled as the fantasies danced in his head. He closed his eyes and just imagined himself as a normal boy, with a normal family. 

Minutes passed, and Harry allowed himself to lay back on the lawn. He let his heart and his mind run free and he purposely indulged himself in every happy thought and fantasy he had for what his life could be like. As he closed his eyes with the sunlight coming down on his face and a cool, light breeze flowing over him, he dreamed...and he smiled...and he let himself go. 

Harry wasn't paying attention to the time. He had drifted off in a beautiful moment of warmth and happy thoughts. The grass beneath him was soft and earthy, the sun was warm and soothing, and the fresh breeze kept him from overheating as the minutes ticked by. 

When he woke, the sun was passing over him, and the warmth he'd felt earlier wasn't quite as direct. He opened his eyes and the world around him was still, but vivid. And then he saw it- there was a movement on the edge of the yard, closer to the trees. 

Harry sat up in the grass and looked more closely. He adjusted his glasses and blinked a few times to focus his vision. It looked like a pair of eyes, staring at him. He stared back at them, but he didn't see a reaction or any movement. He knew he should be frightened, but he didn't feel frightened at all- he felt intrigued. 

He moved slowly. He blinked again and took his glasses off, rubbing their lenses on his shirt to make them cleaner. He still couldn't see that well. He began to stand up and brush the dirt and grass off of himself as he took a few steps forward toward the tree line.

As he walked closer, he expected to see more movement, or to hear something. He moved slowly because he didn't know what to expect, but he felt deeply intrigued. He took a few more bold steps toward the trees. 

He didn't see it, but he could hear it. He heard the sound of leaves rustling and his face moved to focus int he direction of the sound. Still, his eyes couldn't make sense out of anything. He felt frustrated and annoyed. Something was there, but what? He walked a few steps closer. 

As he neared the border of the trees, just where the forest began, he felt like there was the presence of someone else. It was drawing him in. He couldn't see it clearly or explain the feeling, but he wanted to keep taking steps. So he did. Harry walked past the first few trees and the sunlight began to vanish. The temperature dropped several degrees as the grass disappeared and the shade of the trees covered him. It felt much darker and colder.

He kept walking, carefully and slowly, but he was moving forward into the forest. And then he saw a pair of eyes flicker at him. He felt a presence. It beckoned him...and he couldn't resist.