3rd July, 1996

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry was laying on his scarcely clad bed in the smallest bedroom of number 4 Privet Drive, trying his hardest not to fall asleep, knowing the moment he did he would be called down to help Aunt Petunia make dinner. His window was cracked open bringing in the warm summer breeze to help clear out the stuffy feeling of the small bedroom.

He'd only been back at the Dursley's for half a week and he already felt dead to the world both physically and mentally. The only good thing about his current mood was that, for some reason, his relatives had pretty much left him to do his chores and go to bed. He didn't have the energy to say much back to them anyways.

He had spent the day out in the garden cleaning out the weeds, painting the fence, and watering the flowers. By mid-afternoon, he was back in his room where he practically passed out on the bed not even bothering to change out of his sweaty, dirty clothing. He guessed it was about 2 hours later, but his eyes were so heavy with fatigue, he could barely hold a conscious , he felt like it should have been an easy day yet he felt drained and extremely sore.

He had been trying his hardest not to think about Sirius and the Department of Mysteries, but each night he had been haunted with nightmares about those awful events, making it nearly impossible to forget during the waking hours. He would then feel the suffocating loneliness seep into him.

I killed the one person who really cared about me and could give me a family... Just like I got my parents killed.

Realizing he was never going to get another letter from Sirius immediately made his end of summer seem miles away. The irony was not lost on him that he spent the final days at Hogwarts waiting to leave and now he just wanted to go back. It was as if he didn't really belong anywhere anymore.

"BOY!"

The young wizard's head didn't even flinch hearing Uncle Vernon yell for him at the bottom of the stairs. He easily had another minute or two before the man got really angry. Hearing the lumbering footsteps coming up the stairs caused his eyes to at least open and he considered sitting up.

"Boy, you get out here at once!" Vernon screamed as he banged on the door. It opened just as Harry managed to sit up and swing his sore legs over to the side of the bed.

"Did you want something Uncle Vernon," Harry asked sarcastically. "I'm not sure the rest of the neighborhood could hear you."

"Don't you talk to me like that boy or you'll stay in this room for the next week," Vernon threatened as he pulled the small boy up by his shirt. Harry flinched expecting a blow that, thankfully, didn't come. Thinking it over, the idea of staying in his room for a week didn't sound so bad at the moment, but he wasn't about to say so. Instead he just looked at his uncle like he had grown an extra head.

Vernon continued, "We're going out tonight." Harry looked down at his grass stained jeans and oversized shirt with a streak of dirt across the front. Vernon looked disgusted with Harry, "Not you boy. The rest of us and you are to stay in this room for the rest of the night"

"Of course," Harry rolled his eyes, how dare I think something stupid like that.

Without another word, Vernon slammed the door right in his nephew's face. Harry sighed secretly happy he would not be having to cook dinner tonight and could just turn in early.

After about an hour, the Dursleys were gone, Harry was showered, and back in his bed. Sitting up against the wall, he was trying to read Quidditch through the Ages for probably the tenth time, but he couldn't focus on any of the words. His mind started wandering back to the Department of Mysteries and the veil when he felt a slow trickle down his upper lip. As he brought his hand towards his nose, drops of blood started falling onto the book and streaking the pages.

"Bloody hell," Harry said out loud sitting up and grabbing for an old t-shirt draped over the back of his desk chair. Walking out of his bedroom towards the bathroom, he heard a loud knock on the front door.

Whoever it is can wait, they're obviously not here for me.

Harry ran into the lavatory flipping the light on as he entered and immediately went to the sink. He had his head lifted back as he pulled the shirt away to see the steady stream of blood pouring down into his mouth. Turning the faucet on, he spit into the sink and used his hands to clean the blood off his nose.

As he turned off the water and raised his head to grab some tissue - the blood finally slowing down - he heard soft, slow, and steady footsteps coming up the stairs. Clearly, not one of the Dursley's since none of them could produce footsteps that even and slow. He instinctively grabbed for his wand, cursing silently when he remembered that it was locked in the cupboard under the stairs with his trunk and all his other magical possessions. A quick check around the lavatory didn't show much he could use against a Death Eater, so he grabbed the only thing he could think to use - the plunger.

His heart was pounding against his chest as he lifted the plunger up above his head. Hearing the footsteps just outside the door, he slowed his breathing and pulled the cracked door wide open as he brought the plunger down as fast as he could.

Unfortunately, the intruder was faster and grabbed the plunger before it could hit him on the head and yanked it out of Harry's hands.

"Potter! What are you thinking?!," he heard the dark voice of his Potions Professor exclaim.

"Snape?" He asked cautiously, thinking about how much trouble he had to be in for almost hitting his most hated professor with a plunger, of all things.

"For Merlin's sake, if you need a weapon from the lavatory, at least use the top of the toilet," Snape lectured. "You wouldn't take down a soul with, what is this-" he looked at the make-shift weapon he was holding, "- a plunger?"

Harry felt his face flush immediately at the thought of getting lectured about weapons from Snape. I'm sure he could find a deadly weapon in any room of the house. He shivered at the thought.

"What are you doing here sir?" Harry sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub finally taking in the sight of the Potion Master. He was wearing a muggle looking outfit of black trousers and a black buttoned down shirt. Without his black overcoat and teaching robes, he looked almost normal and less threatening.

"I knocked on the door but no one answered," Snape explained. Harry had no way of knowing that the man already knew his relatives never took him out anywhere, so with their car being gone he knew Harry would be alone. "What happened? More muggle fighting?," he asked looking at the leftover drying blood from Harry's nosebleed.

Furious, Harry answered, "I was not fighting. And you never answered my question, what. are. you. doing. here?" He let the lack of " sir" at the end hang between them.

"The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall sent me to discuss your lack of responsibility by not showing up for your consultation at St. Mungo's," he gave Harry a stern look from top to bottom. "Based on what I see in front of me, you'd best think twice before telling me you're 'fine'."

"Well... I am fine! What's it to you anyways?" Harry called back feeling a bit childish but not caring at the moment.

"Like I said before," Snape replied, "I drew the preverbal short straw."

They both were staring at each other, Harry from the edge of the bathtub and Snape standing by the sink, neither wanting to make the first move. Finally, Harry didn't have the energy to fight anymore. In the end, if he wanted to get Snape to leave, he had to give in somewhere. The man wasn't just going to walk away. If that were the case, he wouldn't have broken into the house to start with. "Why don't we at least go downstairs?"

Getting up from the uncomfortable edge of the bathtub, the Boy-Who-Lived stealthily grabbed at his right leg in slight pain, unaware that Snape saw the small movement. Rubbing his hand across his forehead, he walked past the Potions Professor and started walking down the stairs.

"Did you seriously break into my Aunt and Uncle's house?" Harry asked halfway down the staircase. "Who does something like that?"

"Clearly, I suspected you were home," Snape said, taking in the house around him. "I saw your relatives leave and wanted a chance to speak to you without them present."

Harry's emerald eyes squinted thinking about what he just heard. It sounded awfully suspicious to Harry, and all of a sudden he had the realization that Snape could easily kidnap him and bring him directly to Voldemort. The git probably wouldn't lose an ounce of sleep from it either.

Walking tentatively into the kitchen, Harry threw himself down into one of the chairs at the supper table. Looking out the window, there was still plenty of daylight being early in the night and he enviously watched a couple neighborhood boys playing football in the street. The thought of dinner crossed his mind as he easily could sneak something with the Dursley's gone, but for once his stomach wasn't even a touch hungry. There was no way he was offering anything to Snape either; he can just sit there staring at me for all I care, the messy haired teen thought to himself.

"Listen Potter," Snape started, "I don't like this any more than you do, so let's just get this over with. Madam Pomfrey specifically told you to go to St. Mungo's for follow up testing," he spoke to Harry in a very short manner as if Harry couldn't understand English.

"And yet, you completely ignored that recommendation. I'll let you know, Poppy made special arrangements with a colleague of hers, at the Headmaster's request, to maintain your anonymity while there and you can't even bother to show up," the potions master was getting angry now and Harry backed up in his chair to put some more distance between them.

"I told you," Harry had his jaw clenched, "I'm fine. I don't need to go anywhere. I just need to be left alone!"

"Oh, excuse me, it looks to me you are anything but fine. For starters, you had another serious looking bloody nose when I managed to sneak up on you in the lavatory," Snape crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the skinny teen in front of him, taking in the dark circles under both his eyes. "You absolutely look fine. I'll just let the headmaster know that you're not limping down the stairs or appear like you're going to fall asleep right in front of me."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose then took a deep breath. Steepling his fingers he said, "You do need a guardian to go with you. I can discuss it with your Aunt and Uncle if you need me to."

"Ha!" Harry sarcastically laughed, "Good luck getting them to sign off on anything for me. They couldn't care less what happens to me. I think you guys would get along quite well actually. You can probably share stories on best ways to torture me. I think I'll pass... sir."

Standing up, Harry held onto the edge of the table when he suddenly became dizzy, but refused to back down. "I think I'll just head back upstairs to my room. If you're still here when my Uncle gets home, good luck with that."

Right before Harry left the kitchen, Snape called out, "I'll be back for you in the morning. Be ready."

"Sure thing professor" he mumbled over his shoulder wondering briefly if the man was actually serious. Surely he'd send someone else to come and get him if he actually needed to go anywhere.

After hearing the front door slam closed, the tired teen shut his bedroom door and sank into his bed not caring that it was still early in the evening to go to sleep.

"Sirius... No, Sirius"

"Crucio..."

"NOOOOO!"

Harry jumped up suddenly from his sleep. It was only a nightmare, he told himself, but then a second later realized the nightmare had actually already happened to him. No matter how many times he dreamed about it, he could never stop Sirius from falling through the veil. He could never bring his Godfather back.

Grabbing his glasses from his desk next to his bed, he put them on and looked at the clock. It was 5:30 in the morning. Deciding he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, he swung his feet off the side of the bed. Reaching around to rub the back of his neck, he felt the sticky feel of sweat covering his back. Looking down, he was suddenly aware of the cold sweat covering his body causing his oversized t-shirt to cling suffocatingly to his skin.

What the hell is going on?

Harry was finally starting to think that something might not be right. Getting up, he quickly changed into a plain grey shirt that had the least amount of holes he could find and a worn out pair of jeans which were hand-me-downs from Ron last summer. He was grateful these fit so much better than Dudley's cast-offs.

Once he was ready for the day, which included trying unsuccessfully to brush down his ever-wild hair, he made his way downstairs to start the Dursley's breakfast. Thinking of his long day of chores ahead, he secretly hoped they'd be inside today since the hot weather outside took more out of him than usual.

Getting lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear Aunt Petunia come into the kitchen, "Don't go burning the bacon today, got it," she said with her shrill voice. "Vernon has a very important business meeting this morning and he deserves to start the day with a good breakfast." She smiled as if she just thought of the world's best idea.

Like that will make any difference.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry obediently said, flipping the bacon in the pan.

Cooking was one of his favorite chores. Not only did focusing solely on the task keep his intrusive thoughts away, but he was also allowed to get creative with it. Chicken could be dressed up so many different ways and he enjoyed getting to experiment with the different recipes or finding new, creative ways to change an old one. It was the reason why he thought he would do well in potions when he first started at Hogwarts -

No, I refuse to think of Snape right now.

Of course, by saying he wouldn't think of Snape, meant that it was the only thing he could think about. Why was the man acting so strange? Maybe he was reading too much into how the dungeon bat was acting? It wouldn't be the first time he's misread a situation.

And look where that got me.

He was brought back to the present by the smell of burning bacon. Cursing to himself, he flipped it quickly noticing the top of 3 pieces had started to burn. He carefully cut the burnt tops off and snuck them under a napkin to eat later.

Once the eggs were scrambled, toast was buttered, and tomatoes sliced on a plate, he was setting the table as Vernon stomped into the room and sat down with the paper. Ignoring Harry, he started to read.

"Here you are Uncle Vernon," Harry quietly announced placing a pitcher of orange juice in the center of the table. Vernon started filling his plate with a heaping serving of all the food on the table. Harry grabbed a piece of toast before heading back to the stove for the burnt bacon pieces, then left out the garden door to get some air.

Sitting right outside the door, he was able to stay out of Vernon's way until he heard the car leaving the driveway. Walking back in, he picked up his chore list - mostly indoors! - from the spot on the table where Aunt Petunia normally sat. Peering around the kitchen, there was no sight of her.

"Hey Potter!" Dudley yelled as he seemingly attempted to swat towards the back of Harry's head. Harry ducked just in time to cause the larger boy to lose his balance and fall over. Harry couldn't hold in his laugh.

"Have a nice fall Big D?" Harry asked, running from the kitchen towards the stairs. Unfortunately, Aunt Petunia chose that moment to walk down the stairs blocking his exit up. Dudley managed to catch up as someone knocked on the front door.

Petunia gave her son a warning with her eyes causing him to walk back into the sitting room. Harry continued up the stairs and sat at the top so he could eavesdrop before starting his chores.

"Can I help... What are you doing here?!" he heard Petunia screech.

He couldn't contain his curiosity since he's only heard his aunt use that kind of voice when talking to him, and slowly crept down to a lower stair. Petunia tried to close the door in the face of whoever was outside but the visitor was faster and a hand with long, slim fingers held the door open before she could get it closed.

"That's no way to greet someone now is it Tuney?" Harry froze, he would know that baritone voice anywhere. "Where are your manners?"

Woah does Snape know Aunt Petunia?!

"Who are you to talk about manners Snape?" Petunia spat back at him.

Completely ignoring her and pushing his way into the entrance way, Snape continued "Why yes, I would love to be invited into your home so the neighbors don't overhear us."

Petunia huffed and looked up at her nephew who clearly was in shock at seeing his professor heckling his aunt.

"Get started on your chores, now!" She bellowed to Harry snapping his attention away from the strange sight in front of him.

"Actually," he heard Snape say as he turned around to go clean the loo and he could have sworn there was a hint of amusement in the man's voice. "This conversation is pertaining to Mr. Potter, so he should stay."

"Uh oh," Dudley called walking back towards the stairs, "Getting expelled for real this time?"

"Shove it Dudders," Harry replied. Dudley pushed the young wizard out of the way so he could go upstairs.

"Boys!" Petunia lectured trying her hardest to make it appear as if she had full control over the situation.

"Don't stop them on my account Tuney," Petunia gave the professor a death glare whenever he used that name. "All I need is to take your nephew on a short field trip today."

Harry was curious about what Snape was implying. Last night he made it sound like his aunt or uncle would be needed at St. Mungo's and now he sounded all secretive. Thoughts of Voldemort passed through his head and he almost said something to his aunt. At the last minute, he caught Snape's eye and decided to let it play out.

"Fine, whatever, take him," she rolled her hand in the air like he was nothing more than an afterthought to her. Turning to Harry she wagged her finger at him and said "Just make sure you have your chores done when you get home!"

"Ok, Aunt Petunia," he mumbled unsure which was better, doing chores here or going somewhere with the dungeon bat. Although, now that he had some time to look at Snape, he didn't look so intimidating.

In the process of contemplating Snape's less than intimidating look for the day, he missed the question the professor had asked. "Potter! Did you hear a word I said?!"

"Erm... No" the Boy-Who-Lived said embarrassed.

"Go and get ready, we're expected in about an hour," Snape replied impatiently.

Harry turned around and walked upstairs to his room. Putting on his worn out trainers, he looked around the room wondering if there was anything else he needed. This was bound to be a trying day.

Heading back downstairs, he jumped as he saw a man that looked nothing like his hated professor standing by the front door. Instead of a curtain of dark greasy hair lining his pale face, the man in front of him had shorter cut blonde hair, a less pale face, and soft blue eyes.

"It's a glamour, Potter," he still sounded exactly like Snape. "We can't exactly be seen together. In fact, I'll be casting one on you too."

He pulled out his ebony wand and Harry immediately went to grab his, forgetting again that he didn't have it. Snape's eyebrows shot up, "Think I'm going to hex you? Where is your wand?"

Snape was clearly angry, but Harry wasn't sure if it was because he almost pulled his wand on the professor or because he didn't have it to start with.

"It's locked up," Harry said almost inaudibly, pointing to the cupboard under the stairs.

"And do you think it's a smart idea to leave without it?" Harry felt like a 5-year old getting lectured.

"Nope, but my uncle -" he was interrupted by the lock being opened magically and Snape walking in. He pulled out Harry's trunk, opened it, took out the holly wand, and handed it to Harry.

Harry took it from his professor, not taking notice of Snape examining the inside of the cupboard. He already knew about Harry having lived in the cupboard for 10 years, but it had been 6 years since he'd seen the evidence of it. On the wall above the small cot, was a kid's hand-drawn picture that said "Harry's room". Snape closed the door a little too forcefully, pointed his wand at the trunk and shrunk it.

"I'll enlarge it when we get back, so you can keep it in your room," Snape told him in a voice that almost sounded sympathetic. "How else do you expect to do your summer assignments?"

Ah, there's the snarky comment!

"Thank you sir," Harry was very confused, but extremely grateful.

Snape just raised his wand again at Harry, this time Harry only flinched a little, and placed a glamour so he had blonde hair that fell to his shoulders, bright blue eyes, and squared glasses. "That should be enough to get us into the exam room. Let's go."

Walking down the drive, Harry slowed knowing he shouldn't ask the burning questions in his mind but figured he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, "Sir? I thought you needed my aunt and uncle's permission or something? Last night you said you were going to talk with them about this."

Snape turned so he faced the boy. "We made alternate arrangements," he answered cryptically.

"You mean Madam Pomfrey did," Harry had to know if Snape had anything to do with this or not.

"Yes, something like that," the man was distracted and clearly wanted this line of questioning to end. "Let's get moving."

"Sir? One more question," in for a penny, in for a pound Harry though. "How do you know Aunt Petunia?"

Snape glared at Harry but with his eyes blue instead of their normal black, the desired impact was gone. "That's none of your business." Harry disagreed with that, but didn't expect anything more to be said.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and once reaching an alleyway, Snape turned to Harry and asked "Have you apparated before?"