Dumbledore was sitting at the kitchen table sipping tea when Severus stormed into the kitchen.

“Tea, Severus?” Dumbledore asked politely, tipping his cup in the direction of the tea kettle on the table.
Severus collapsed into a chair next to Dumbledore and ran his hands down his face. He didn’t question why Dumbledore was sitting unannounced in his kitchen, merely accepting the fact.
Dumbledore took the motion as a yes, pouring tea into a cup and placing it in front of the younger man.

“Sugar?” Dumbledore questioned, lifting the sugar bowl.
Snape shook his head and took the tea cup gratefully, taking a long drink.

Dumbledore chuckled. “Surely there aren’t problems with the boy already, Severus? He has been here barely an hour.”

“Yes, and in that time he has been nothing but sullen, disrespectful, and disobedient.” Snape growled, slamming the cup down. Tea sloshed out of the side, splashing the table. Grumbling, Snape pulled out his wand and cleaned up the mess with a swift flick of his wrist.

“We discussed this, Severus.” Dumbledore said calmly. “Harry has had his every whim fulfilled nearly all his life. He is not familiar with what normal acceptable behavior is for a child. To him, his behavior is nothing more or less than what he has always done. You must teach him, with firm but fair guidance.”
Severus took another long drink of tea, and Dumbledore filled his cup for him again.

“Albus, I have already had to punish him. If his behavior in the last hour is any indication of what I can expect in the future weeks, I…” Snape trailed off, unable to find words for his frustration.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at him. “You’ve punished him already, Severus? Do you not feel that a bit of leniency is warranted in the beginning, especially on his first day with you?”

Snape glared across the table, running his fingers along the handle of his tea cup. “If I am lenient with him now, it will only make the job harder in the future. He must realize immediately that there are expectations for him here. I have little patience for disobedient children, Albus.”

Dumbledore inclined his head in acceptance. “I see the wisdom in your words, Severus, and I respect your decision. Forgive the soft heart of an old man.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as he took a sip of his tea. Setting the cup down, Dumbledore steepled his fingers beneath his chin and gave Snape a searching gaze. “I wonder, however… I wonder if it may be more prudent to allow the child a chance before punishing him. He can’t be aware that his behavior is not acceptable to you, he knows nothing else. Perhaps you should talk to him first, allow him the opportunity to correct it?”
Snape considered this, swirling the tea in his cup before taking another long drink.

“He did mention that the only rule he knows is not to touch a wand.” Snape said slowly, his brow wrinkled in concentration. “It appears he really had no other expectations for his behavior.”

“It seems a bit harsh to punish him for things he wasn’t aware of.” Dumbledore said, rather bluntly.

Snape nodded once, his brow still wrinkled as he considered the issue before them. “Albus, I have never been known for giving chances to students.”

Dumbledore smiled at that. “Indeed, you do have a rather harsh reputation, I believe. Harry is not a student, though, Severus. You are his guardian, not his teacher.”

Snape stood up, placing his cup into the sink. “I will attempt it.” He said with a sigh.

Their conversation was interrupted by a loud banging sound from upstairs, and a harsh cry from Harry. Snape turned immediately towards the noise, making his way for the stairs.

“I’ll just see myself out then, Severus!” Dumbledore called after him. “I will visit soon to check on you and Harry.”
Severus waved a hand in absentminded reply and continued his way up the stairs, following the sound of Harry’s cries.
He threw open the door and found Harry lying on the floor, holding his ankle and crying loudly. He was annoyed to notice that Harry’s trunk was still completely full despite having been upstairs alone for twenty minutes. Bending down without a word, Snape lowered Harry’s sock to examine the ankle. A faint pink mark showed the boy had likely banged it on something, but his examination showed no serious damage.

“What happened?” Snape asked, assured that the boy was not grievously injured.

“I was p-playing with my s-snitch, and I h-hit my ankle on the b-bed!” Harry wailed, pushing Snape’s probing hands away and clutching at his ankle again.

“Your ankle is not broken, fractured, swollen, or even bruised.” Snape responded with a roll of his eyes. “Your reaction seems highly dramatic, given the circumstances.”

Harry’s wails subsided somewhat, and he gave Severus a hurt look. His caretakers always swept him into their arms and held him until he felt better whenever he got hurt. Julie had even invented a special song that she would sing to him whenever he was injured in some way. Harry did not imagine that Snape had a song like Julie’s.

“I am more concerned with your full trunk than I am with your ankle.” Snape continued, standing up and shooting Harry a disapproving look. “Did I not tell you to put your things away?”

“B-but I w-wanted to p-play!” Harry exclaimed, defending himself through his tears. “I t-told you th-that I wanted to p-play!”

“And I told you to put your things away.” Snape said sternly, ignoring the tears. “Lunch will be ready in ten minutes. You can join me when your task is finished.” Snape turned to leave, then stopped and slowly turned around again, focusing his attention back to Harry. “When I give you a task, such as putting your things away, I expect you to complete it immediately.” He stopped then, appearing to search for his words. “Playing with a toy rather than doing a task you were told to do is not acceptable. Do you understand?”

Harry nodded, wiping at the tears that were still falling. He didn’t understand though, not really. Why shouldn’t he be able to play when he wanted?

Snape’s lips pursed together, and he appeared to take a deep breath. His tone much more strained, he addressed the boy again. “Additionally, when asked a question you are expected to respond verbally, not with nods and shrugs.”

“Okay.” Harry said quietly, looking at his hands. After being yelled at by Snape earlier, Harry found he didn’t have the bravery to argue even though he strongly disagreed with what Snape was telling him.
Without another word Snape swept out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Harry’s tears stopped when Snape left. Snape had barely acknowledged his hurt ankle and that made Harry angry. He continued lying on the floor for several more minutes, considering the situation. He had to admit that the pain in his ankle, although sharp when it first happened, had not hurt much after a minute. Harry wiped the last of the tears from his face and got to his feet, stomping his foot once on the floor in his anger. Snape was not nice like his caretakers. Snape was mean, the meanest person that Harry had ever met. Why did it matter when Harry played? And why did it matter if Harry wanted to nod? This man had too many rules. Harry’s tears started again, but not from his ankle. He missed his Home.
Harry stomped over to his trunk and was dismayed at how much was inside of it. He couldn’t possibly put all these things away in the ten minutes before lunch! His caretakers never made him put things away. His rooms were always cleaned for him, Harry had never thought as to how it happened. He lifted a shirt from the pile of clothes and moved towards the dresser, opening a drawer and pushing it inside. That wasn’t too hard. Moving back to the trunk, Harry lifted several shirts at once and crammed them into the drawer with the first one. It didn’t look neat like his drawers at Home did, but they were where they belonged at least. Harry continued shoving clothes haphazardly in various drawers until his stomach gave a low grumble and he abandoned his task without a second thought, moving out of the room and down the stairs. He followed the sound of clinking silverware into the kitchen and found Snape sitting at a table eating some type of pasta. Snape raised an eyebrow upon seeing Harry enter.

“You’ve finished putting your things away already?” Snape questioned him, his eyes narrowing a bit in disbelief.

“No.” Harry answered easily. “I’m hungry.”

Harry moved towards the table but Snape stood up quickly and blocked his way.
“You were told, quite clearly, that your lunch would be waiting for you after you put your things away. Go upstairs and finish. Now.” Snape pointed in the direction of the stairs, and when Harry didn’t move on his own Snape grabbed his shoulders and spun him around, sending him back in the direction of the stairs with a light push on his back.
Harry’s lower lip quivered as he slowly made his way back to his new room. It would take him ages to finish putting things away and he was hungry now.
Twenty minutes later Snape entered the room again just as Harry was placing the last of his toys on a shelf above his desk. Harry spun around when he heard Snape clear his throat and narrowed his eyes at the man.

“I’ve finished. I want to eat now.” Harry stated firmly, giving the man a dreadful look as if daring him to refuse again. His bravado had grown with his empty stomach.

“You could have eaten twenty minutes ago if you had put your things away when I told you to.” Snape responded simply, ignoring the look and gesturing Harry to follow him down the stairs. Harry trailed behind, the glare plastered on his face.
Harry sat at the table immediately upon entering the kitchen and told Snape, “I would like a cheese sandwich and some melon.” He sat with an expectant look on his face, waiting for the food to appear. Snape pushed a plate of the same pasta he had been eating earlier in front of the boy.

“Lunch is alfredo today.” Snape told him, placing a fork next to Harry’s hand.

Harry looked at the plate of pasta in front of him, then up at Snape with a look of bewilderment. “At… at Home they give me the food I ask for.” Harry said quietly, looking at the pasta as if it were poisoned.

Snape rolled his eyes. “In this house, you will eat what you are given. Today it is alfredo, or nothing at all, I will leave the choice up to you.”

Tears escaped Harry’s eyes as he mournfully took the fork and ate a small bite. It didn’t taste bad, in fact Harry rather liked alfredo. But he didn’t want it today. Today he wanted a cheese sandwich. If the events of the day were anything to go by, Harry knew that he had little choice in the matter. Snape had yet to cave in to any of Harry’s whining so far. And he was awfully hungry.
Snape sat at the table next to Harry reading a newspaper, his jaw clenching as he tried to ignore the boy’s periodic sniffs and sobs as he cried his way through lunch.

---

Snape led Harry into the sitting room after lunch and sat him down on the same couch the boy had occupied upon first arriving. He placed a chair in front of the couch and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, studying Harry for a moment.

“Let’s try this talk again, shall we?” Snape asked, a slight edge to his tone.
Harry stared stubbornly at the floor, his jaw clenched in annoyance.

“It is considered rude not to look at someone while they are speaking to you.” Snape said pointedly.

“I don’t want to.” Harry responded flatly.

Snape inhaled heavily through his nose, closed his eyes for a moment, then reached out and lifted Harry’s chin with two fingers. Harry’s green eyes met Snape’s dark ones for a few seconds before Harry jerked his head away and returned his gaze to the floor.
Snape leaned back in his chair and studied the boy, deciding to let the matter drop for the moment.

“It was explained to you why you are here?” Snape asked him, drumming his fingers on the arm rest of the chair.

“Yes. Mitchell said that a man named Dumboodur made me come here.”

“Professor Dumbledore arranged for you to stay here, yes. Is that all you were told?”

Harry’s eyes filled with tears for the countless time that day as he responded.
“Mitchell said… he said that nobody could live at Home anymore. He said it was g-going away.”
Snape didn’t respond right away, watching as the boy wrung his hands together. Harry lifted one hand, aggressively swiping the tears from his eyes.

“It will be much different here than what you are used to.” Snape told Harry, using his wand to procure a handkerchief and handing it to him.

“I noticed that.” Harry snapped.

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “That tone is disrespectful,” he warned.
When Harry didn’t respond except to glare angrily at the floor, Snape continued.
“The Ministry of Magic’s decision to close your former home was not…”
But Harry’s head had snapped up and he interrupted Snape in a voice dripping with anger.

“You take that back! That’s a lie! The Ministry cares about me. The Ministry wants me to be happy! They would never close my Home! They would never send me here!”

Harry stood up abruptly, and with impressive reflexes Snape leaned forward to grip the boy by the arm and prevent him from leaving. Harry screeched in anger, using his free arm to lash out at Snape. Harry’s fist collided with Snape’s face right at the base of the man’s eye, and Snape released Harry in surprise at the blow. Before he could stop him again, Harry had run from the room.
Recovering his senses quickly, Snape caught up with Harry before he made it to the staircase. Harry cried out in surprise as Snape took hold of one of his ears firmly, pulling him back to the sitting room. Harry struggled as best he could with his ear caught in Snape’s grip.

“Let me go! Let me go!” He shrieked, using his hands to try and break Snape’s hold on his ear.
Snape released Harry’s ear and gripped him by both shoulders instead. Giving the boy a little shake, Snape crouched down so he was eye level with Harry. The man’s face was pinched with fury and when Harry saw the look on his face his own anger vanished. His eyes filling with tears, Harry gave out a loud sob and practically leapt into Snape’s lap. Snape was so taken aback by the action that he nearly fell over, using an arm to steady himself on the floor and the other to steady the boy who was now clinging to him.

Harry buried his face into Snape’s shoulder, his cries growing in intensity until the heartbreaking noise seemed to echo around the entire room. This day had been too much. He missed Home. He missed Mitchell and Julie. He didn’t like this change. He didn’t like Snape or the things he said. Emotions swirled in his brain… anger, fear, hurt, confusion, sadness. Harry felt each of them strongly, and each emotion seemed to be battling in his mind for dominance. It was exhausting.
Snape hadn’t said a word as Harry cried out his sorrow. After several minutes Snape had moved from the crouched position he was in and sat on the couch, carrying the distraught child with him. He didn’t hug the boy, nor whisper assurances. He didn’t pat his back or stroke his hair. He merely sat there with Harry clinging to him, allowing the boy the release of emotions he clearly needed.
After a while Harry’s cries lessened and Snape handed him another handkerchief. Harry blew his nose and dabbed his eyes, keeping one arm firmly wrapped around Snape’s torso.
When his cries had been reduced to the occasional sniffle, Snape lifted the boy by his underarms and deposited him into this own seat on the couch. The man’s face no longer looked furious, Harry noticed. In fact, Snape looked nearly as exhausted as Harry felt.
They sat there together for a short time until Snape broke the silence.

“You owe me an apology.”

Harry didn’t argue. He had never hit anyone in his life and felt wretched for it.

“M’sorry.” Harry mumbled, and Snape nodded once.

“Come. I will show you around the house.”