H.P.

Harry woke up early on Sunday morning, well rested and happy after his day out with Remus. His mood improved further when he groggily dragged himself out of bed and into the kitchen for breakfast and Snape nodded towards the centre of the table where a single letter lay. Reading his own name in a script that he'd only ever seen once before, Harry grabbed it excitedly, tearing it open before he'd even touched his food, causing Snape to glare at him darkly. He quickly raised a spoonful of cereal to his mouth to satisfy his grumpy potions teacher, then turned his attention back to Sirius' letter.

He hesitated before unfolding the parchment. What if Sirius was angry with him for not telling him that he was with Snape? He push his apprehension back and smoothed out the parchment.

Harry,

I hope you're doing good kiddo. This is just a short letter to tell you that I'm returning to England. I don't want to be far from you while you're staying with Snape. He's dangerous. I want you to promise me that you'll be on your guard at all times; keep your wand on you wherever you are. You can write to me or Remus whenever you want, for anything. If that greasy git steps out of line, let us know.

Reply to this as soon as you can and I'll let you know when I get back into the country.

Keep safe,

Sirius

He knew that Sirius and Snape disliked each other, loathed each other was probably more appropriate, but Sirius saying that he was dangerous seemed odd seeing as Remus had said that he trusted Snape… Maybe Sirius was just overreacting. He'd just have to reassure his Godfather when he replied. Whatever Remus and Dumbledore had said to him hadn't worked to calm him down, which didn't bode well for him if Sirius kicked up a fuss and he had to go back to the Dursleys.

Sirius meant well but he knew how to look after himself; he'd been doing it for as long as he could remember. He wasn't about to let Sirius ruin one of the better things that had happened to him in a long time.

"I don't provide you with food in order to decorate the table." Harry glanced up distractedly, tearing his gaze from the letter. "Put. It. Down." Harry huffed but complied, determined to wolf down his food as quickly as possible so that he could reply to Sirius.

Snape seemed to be in a worse mood than usual. He definitely wasn't always the brightest in the morning, but the look on Snape's face was darker than he'd seen it in a long time.

S.S.

Severus Snape was in a decidedly bad mood ever since he'd seen that there was a letter for Potter in the post. He would have recognised the hideous scrawl of the Weasley sidekick and one could not mark one of Granger's epics without being able to do the same. He had a good idea whom that letter was from and the idea of Black intruding where he was certainly not wanted made his blood boil.

Black would no doubt regale the boy with stories of his and Potter senior's rule-breaking past. He would no doubt want to fill the child's head with his dangerous pranks. He proved himself fully capable of premeditated murder when he sent Severus to the shrieking shack and a man like that shouldn't be allowed near a child.

Potter was enough like his arrogant rule-breaking father as it was, he didn't need that blasted dog being any more of a bad influence. Whatever the imbecile had written was clearly enthralling as the boy just couldn't put his letter down and he couldn't get away fast enough. Not that that was a problem. He wouldn't argue against having decidedly less Potter around.

Severus returned yet again to his quarters before Potter was due to be back for lunch in order to check the boy's homework, as was his new habit. The boy's last attempt had been, in truth, fairly impressive, for Potter that is.

He dragged the parchment towards him, sneering in disgust as he read through what seemed like less than a half-hearted attempt at the charms assignment. He did not even dignify it with his red quill. He noted that Potter was currently in the owlery and so he waited, seething, for him to return. If Potter thought that he was going to accept such slipshod work from him, he had another thing coming. It had been mere hours since the child had received that damned letter from the mutt and already his behaviour was worsening.

H.P.

Harry had spent the majority of the morning constructing a carefully written reply to Sirius, admittedly to the detriment of his homework, but it was never good enough for Snape and he could just redo it later. He really wanted to get the letter to Sirius before he made it back to England. He couldn't bear it if the closest thing to family he had got caught just because of him, and when he was perfectly safe, too.

He also wanted to find out exactly why Sirius thought that Snape was dangerous. Remus wouldn't tell him seeing as he obviously didn't agree with Sirius.

He re-read his letter as he climbed the steps to the owlery.

Sirius,

I got your letter. Please don't come back here, I'm really okay. Dumbledore's at Hogwarts and I see Hagrid all the time, plus I see Remus every Saturday for the whole day. I'm really not in any danger, even if Snape wanted to kill me. I really don't think he's a danger to me though. Dumbledore and Remus both said they trust him and he's saved my life twice – if he wanted to do me in he could have just not saved me. What makes you think he's dangerous?

I know you don't like him and I don't either. He's a nasty, greasy bat but I really want to stay at Hogwarts this summer. Don't worry about me – I really don't want to risk you getting caught.

Best,

Harry

That was as persuasive as he got. He had no idea what else to put to make him stop worrying and not come back. 

Harry smiled as he reached the top of the staircase, this was his first visit to the owlery since he had been grounded the week before and Hedwig was obviously put out by his disappearance. "Sorry girl, Snape wouldn't let me out to see you, but I promise I'll come by more."

She flew down towards him, hooted once and nipped his finger. He wasn't entirely sure he was forgiven as she'd bitten quite hard but it would do. "I have a special job for you. Get this to Sirius as fast as you can." He carefully attached the letter to her leg and sent her off out the window before hurrying quickly back to the dungeons. He didn't want to be late and risk another grounding. Honestly, anything could set that man off and he'd looked so angry that morning…

Harry hurtled into the kitchen and threw himself down at the table just in time for lunch. This time, however, it was not out and prepared as per usual. Snape preferred to have it ready so that the meal started and finished as quickly as possible, probably so they didn't have to spend any time together as opposed to him having anything better to do.

Harry looked up in confusion and met the Potion Master's furious glare. What had he done now? Snape seemed to be trying to make Harry squirm by remaining silent so it was up to him to break the silence. "Sir?"

"What is the meaning of this?" Snape held out Harry's homework as if it was something disgusting. Harry could see where this was going; he really hadn't thought it would be a big deal. Evidently he was wrong.

"Err, that's my charms homework," he said, shifting in his seat. Snape stood abruptly so that he loomed over Harry, who refused to shrink back. Honestly, he'd do it again if it was that big of a deal.

"You think yourself above my rules, Potter? Rules shouldn't apply to famous Harry Potter." He seemed to relish saying his surname, as if he was throwing a particularly hurtful insult.

"I don't think that," Harry replied indignantly.

"Your arrogance is astounding."

"I'm not arrogant!" An angry flush rose in Harry's cheeks but it was obvious that Snape wasn't finished.

"You're just as big-headed as your father before you, a mediocre wizard getting by on a meagre amount of talent at Quidditch," Snape spat viciously.

"I'm not," Harry yelled, standing up. "And he wasn't mediocre. My dad was a great wizard, everyone says so." At Harry's words Snape's face contorted into a particularly hateful glare.

"Your father was a vile bully just as you're nothing but a vile, little boy."

"SHUT UP," Harry roared at him before escaping to his room, trying desperately to control his temper.

"POTTER." Snape stormed into Harry's room, slamming the door open so that it banged against the wall. "You dare scream at me in my quarters? I will not tolerate it."

Harry couldn't care less how angry Snape was. How could he call anyone else a bully? He was the biggest, pettiest bully he'd ever laid eyes on. "You're a hypocrite! Whatever you think of my dad, you're a hundred times worse."

At Harry's words Snape's face transformed into a mask of pure anger and loathing. He hadn't looked so angry since the shrieking shack incident. Fury was etched in every line of his face. It occurred to Harry, a little belatedly, that he might have pushed Snape too far.

It seemed as if things were moving in slow motion. As Snape drew his wand out of his robes, Harry instinctively stumbled backwards, catching the back of his foot on his desk chair and losing balance. He registered a sharp pain as the side of his head smacked into the edge of his desk and he threw out an arm to stop his fall. He stared, eyes wide in shock, at his teacher as he sat sprawled out on his bedroom floor.

S.S.

Severus intended to draw his wand and burn the poor excuse for homework in front of the brat, but instead could only watch as Potter retreated from him, managing to fall over his desk chair and hit his head, hard. He quickly scanned the boy for injuries, his eyes resting on the side of his head where a large bruise was already forming and blood dripped from a scrape, evidently from where he'd caught the edge of the desk.

His eyes met the wide green eyes that were staring up at him, eyes so much like Lily's, and suddenly he felt ashamed. Her eyes were watching him with a mixture of shock, fear and pain. The boy had never looked less like his father; he looked like the vulnerable child that Severus had known he was when he had brought him back to Hogwarts. And all because of a poor attempt at his homework. But that wasn't the entire truth of the matter; he had been unfairly taking his anger and bitterness about Black on the boy.

He did not hesitate to kneel in front of the child, but as he swept closer Potter flinched back again, banging his head against the desk and he groaned in pain. Severus waved his wand in a swift but complex gesture and an orb appeared beside his head collating information.

Severus watched it intently as he rattled off questions. "What is your name?" 

"Harry," Potter answered softly, his voice coloured by confusion.

"When is your birthday?"

"The 31st of July."

"What is the address of your aunt and uncle's home?"

"Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey. What are you–?"

As Potter began to speak the orb glowed green and Severus held up a hand to signal that he should be quiet and the boy fell silent. Severus read the report carefully, checking for any signs of serious injury.

"It would appear there is no internal damage. Do you feel sick or dizzy?" 

"No, I'm okay," he replied quickly. Severus nodded and reached for his chin to attend to the injury on the side of his head, but Potter pulled back. "I'm okay," he repeated.

"I need to see to your injury, Mr. Potter," Severus said calmly, keeping his frustration at the boy's uncooperative behaviour from his voice.

He reached again for the boy's chin, tilting his head to the side to assess the damage to his head. He wordlessly healed the cut and spelled away the blood. It was quite clear that the boy was just as uncomfortable as he was being in such close proximity. He held himself rigidly and determinedly looked away as Severus worked. He certainly hoped it was discomfort and not fear that he would lash out.

The bruise would require a salve to take care of the pain and swelling, which Severus summoned from his own rooms. Opening the jar and still holding Potter's chin firmly in one hand, with the other he rubbed the salve as gently and efficiently he could onto the bruise. It was obviously very painful as the moment he began Harry closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Severus would have expected him to complain but he remained silent. When he was finished, the boy looked much better and he released him from his grasp.

"Thanks," Potter said quietly, making careful study of the carpet. The Potter he knew would not thank him for healing injuries that he must blame him for causing.

"Any other injuries?"

"No, I'm fine. Really," Harry insisted once again.

"Go to the kitchen. It is still time for lunch." He watched the boy leave and pinched the bridge of his nose.

This was not going well at all. He brought him here to protect him and to give him the chance at a comfortable childhood without neglect and hatred. He was supposed to be keeping his promise to Lily's memory, to protect her sacrifice. Was it possible that he was making this a poorer arrangement for the boy than his relatives had? If that was the case then all of this was in vain, but he would not take the boy back to those people. He, at least, has provided the child with clothes, food and a room, which is more than those muggles did. But unless he changed the way he dealt with the boy then this situation was not going to work. Not to mention the fact that it was undignified to be screaming insults at a child.

Was he much better than the relatives he took him from? He did not have to like the boy, he did not have to be nice to him, he could just... not hurl insults at him. Lily would be satisfied with that.

He sat down opposite Potter contemplating what he wanted to say, but the child spoke instead.

"I'm sorry. I'll do it again." He looked nervous but sincere, which threw Severus off. He hadn't expected an apology, not least after the argument they had just had. He had gotten sidetracked by his own hatred of the boy's father and that ridiculous dog. His reaction had been grossly out of proportion to the boy's transgression. The boy was just like his father but if he was going to make this situation work, for Lily, he would have to rein in his temper.

"You certainly will be doing the essay again. You showed me last week that you are quite capable of completing your homework to a high standard. All of your summer work will be just as thorough, although you may stick to the requested number of feet." He worked hard to keep his voice as calm and neutral as possible. After all, he still had to speak to the boy about the incident and it would be rather ridiculous to begin another argument before that could happen.

"Yes, sir."

"I'd like to make something absolutely clear, Mr. Potter. I will raise neither a hand nor wand to you in anger, no matter how much you irritate or disobey me. Undoubtedly you will continue to do both. Is that understood?"

The boy looked embarrassed as he stared at the table and mumbled a vague 'Yessir'. There was a pause. "Sorry."

"I heard you the first time, Mr. Potter."

"No, I meant for– in my room–" He looked too embarrassed to continue and chose to continue his in-depth study of the tabletop. If Snape was a man of lesser self control his jaw might have dropped. The boy was apologising for falling over. Potter could easily blame him for the incident, but instead he was apologising.

"There is no need to apologise for hurting yourself. I'm not telling you off."

The boy didn't reply but he did look up, giving his teacher an odd look before going back to staring at the table. It was becoming a habit of his. 

Severus summoned two plates of sandwiches and placed one in front of the boy.

"Can I fly this afternoon? After I've done my homework again…?" Potter asked hopefully.

"Your free time is yours to do what you wish."

"So I'm not grounded?" he asked disbelievingly.

"No, Mr. Potter, you are not grounded."

H.P.

He shouldn't have given in his work like that; if only because he should have realised that Snape would go completely mental considering his last piece was comparatively fantastic, which just made this one look terrible. Snape didn't have to completely lose it though; it wasn't even for his class.

And why did he have to bring his father up all the time and then insult both of them? Was he just bitter because people liked his dad and they had been rivals? Snape thought he was arrogant and he was wrong about that, so he had to be wrong about his dad too. But he hadn't expected Snape to just forget that they were in the middle of a huge argument just because he'd hit his head and now he was being weirdly civil towards him, as if neither of them had been screaming at the other.

He sat at his desk in his room completing his homework. Charms wasn't so bad; it wasn't as difficult as transfiguration or as complex as potions. At four o'clock he looked at his work. It wasn't as good as his potions work had been, the charms textbook didn't have nearly as much information on its subject as the potions one did, but he had tomorrow morning still to finish so he dashed towards the kitchen, grabbing his Firebolt on the way, and wrote a note.

Professor Snape, I'm going to the Quidditch pitch for the afternoon.

It was a lot more polite than the usual notes he wrote.