Harry stared into the dregs of tea at the bottom of his cup, a strange buzzing in his ears drowning out the chatter of the Leaky Cauldron. His chest felt tight and crushed, like Dudley was sitting on it. Had Harry recently suffered a blow to the head? Perhaps he’d concussed himself during the chaotic Knight Bus journey last night. That seemed like the only plausible explanation for Professor Dumbledore showing up here and telling Harry that he was going to spend all of August living with Professor Snape. 

“Harry?” he glanced up at Dumbledore. The Headmaster was watching him with an expression of slight concern.

“Can’t I just stay here, sir?” Harry asked, gripping the mug so tightly he thought it might shatter between his palms.

Dumbledore sighed. “I’m afraid not, Harry. You’re too young to be left in Diagon Alley alone for such a long time. It’s just not appropriate.”

Harry bit his lip. “But - well, you know that Snape doesn’t really like me, right?”

“Professor Snape,” Dumbledore gently rebuked him.

“Right. Well, I’m sure he’d much rather I stay here!”

“Professor Snape has already agreed to watch over you for the rest of the summer at his home,” Dumbledore said.

Harry was now wondering if Snape had been the one to suffer a recent head injury, as he could not imagine any other circumstances that would compel the man to agree to allow Harry to stay with him. After all, as far as Harry knew, full personality transplants were not possible yet.

“I assure you, everything will be fine," Dumbledore said in a tone that was probably intended to be soothing. As he'd just used the phrase 'everything will be fine' while referring to Harry and Snape being forced to cohabit for a month, it ended up falling a bit flat. "I’ll be keeping on top of the situation, and will deal with any potential problems that arise.”

“But sir, if I’m staying at his home, couldn’t I just stay in Gryffindor Tower or something instead? I bet we'd both prefer that!”

“Professor Snape doesn’t live at Hogwarts during the summers,” Dumbledore said, a hint of a smile playing around his lips. “Us teachers do have lives outside of school, you know!”

Huh. For some reason, Harry had always imagined his professors staying in their Hogwarts quarters year-round. That was ridiculous, of course, but still…Snape in Harry’s mind was inextricably tied to the dungeons. Of course, there was nothing stopping Snape from living in some sort of dungeon or cave outside of Hogwarts. That certainly wouldn’t surprise him.

“Just - are you sure there isn’t anyone else?” Harry said, a hint of desperation shining through into his voice.

“This is the only solution,” Dumbledore said, shaking his head. Harry’s heart sank. “Professor Snape is the only person who I’d trust with your safety.”

Harry tried not to groan as he nodded, lips pressed tightly together. This was just his luck, really.

“We really ought to get going,” Dumbledore said, glancing at his watch. Harry noticed it didn’t have any numbers - instead, it was lined with different planets, floating across the face. “Professor Snape is expecting us. I have some spells that can help you pack quickly, if you’ll direct me to your room?”

Harry nodded again. He felt strangely drained and couldn’t bring himself to speak as he led Dumbledore to the stairs of the Leaky Cauldron and took him upstairs to the room he’d been staying in since last night.

Things had been looking bright for the first time in a while. He wasn't in trouble with the Ministry for blowing up Aunt Marge, he didn't have to stay with the Dursleys and he had weeks of time in Diagon Alley at his fingertips.

Of course it was too good to be true. Now he was staying with Snape, of all people, for the whole of August? He couldn’t think of a person he’d like to stay with less! Well, maybe Voldemort would be worse. That thought unsurprisingly didn't help Harry feel any better. After all, Snape really, really hated Harry. It was bad enough spending two hours of Potions with him every week, but actually living with the man, in the confined quarters of a house? It sounded positively hellish.

He watched distantly as Dumbledore waved his wand, causing the few belongings Harry had bothered to unpack to fly through the air and settle into his trunk, which shut with a noisy click. Dumbledore tapped it with his wand, and the trunk and Hedwig’s empty cage shrank until they were small enough for Dumbledore to place in his pocket.

"Now, Harry, have you ever Apparated before?" he asked as they headed back down to the main floor of the Leaky Cauldron. Tom gave them a toothless grin and a wave as they walked past the bar.

"No, sir," Harry said.

“It shouldn’t be too bad, although it may feel a little odd your first time," Dumbledore said, stopping in the pub's foyer. "Now, please take my arm."

Harry nervously complied. He was suddenly overcome by the sensation that he was being squeezed through a very small, very narrow tube that crushed the air out of his lungs. They landed with a crack and Harry doubled over, hit headlong by a wave of nausea.

"Apparating can have that effect for a first-timer," Dumbledore said serenely as Harry took deep, gasping breaths, trying not to lose the contents of his lunch. "Now, Professor Snape's house is just a few streets away. If you'll follow me…"

Harry hurried after Dumbledore, still feeling a bit ill, and did his best to take in his surroundings. They were on a road lined with terraced brick houses, all in various states of disrepair. A group of teens were standing on a street corner smoking. They looked Harry and Dumbledore up and down as they walked by and started snickering behind their hands. Harry assumed it was because of Dumbledore's bright magenta robes, which looked very out of place in such a mundane, Muggle area.

Eventually, Dumbledore turned down a road named Spinners End and walked up a cracked driveway to the front door of one highly derelict house. As Professor Dumbledore knocked on the door, causing flakes of grey paint to fall to the ground like dirty snow, Harry was half-afraid the door would fall back off its hinges. He thought such a dingy place was appropriate for his most hated Potions professor.

The door swung open almost instantly, revealing Professor Snape. He’d been so quick that Harry half-suspected he’d been waiting by the door, prepared to pounce. Snape was wearing the same high-necked black robes he always wore when school was in session that reminded Harry so much of a bat.

"You're late," he hissed, beady eyes darting between Harry and the Headmaster. Snape was glaring at Harry in particular, like he was a bug that Snape would dearly love to stamp out.

"My apologies, Severus," Dumbledore said, stepping forward and into Snape's hallway. Harry noticed he didn't look particularly happy with the Headmaster, either. "We had some things to discuss."

Ah, yes, the discussion. That had mostly consisted of Harry listing every possible person he knew that lived in Wizarding Britain who might let Harry live with them, while Dumbledore shot each and every one of them down. It had taken a while before Harry had reluctantly accepted defeat.

Dumbledore resized Harry's trunk and Hedwig's empty cage in Snape's hallway. Harry remained on the doorstep. He really didn't want to step inside. Harry remembered hearing that vampires could only attack you if you invited them into your house or something. Perhaps that was still true if Harry went inside of Snape's house; he'd always been half convinced that Snape actually was a vampire, after all.

"I trust you'll also remember our conversation, Severus?" Dumbledore said rather pointedly, his head inclining ever so slightly in Harry's direction.

"Yes," Snape said in a tightly controlled voice while shooting daggers at Harry. He felt his stomach flop like a fish. Yes, the old hatred was certainly still there...

And now Harry had to actually live with the man that despised him so intensely.

"I do apologise, but I’ve got an important appointment at the Ministry soon, so I’m afraid I must take my leave," Dumbledore said, sounding far too cheerful for a man that was sending Harry to his doom. "I'll see you soon, Severus! Goodbye, Harry."

He stepped past Harry and began to walk back down the road. Harry longingly watched as the Headmaster left, wishing he was accompanying him.

"Well, don't just stand there dawdling like an idiot!" Snape snapped, jolting Harry back to his senses. "Get inside!”

Harry hopped over the threshold, feeling his sense of foreboding grow as the door slammed shut behind him. The slightly medicinal smell of herbs hit him immediately. The whole house smelled faintly like the Potions storage cupboard back at Hogwarts.

Harry barely had time to take in the dark, dingy hallway he was standing in before Snape rounded on him in a flurry of black robes.

“Now you listen here, Potter,” he growled. “The Headmaster has filled me in on your little stunt, and he has given me free reign to do whatever I please about it. Blowing up your aunt? I already knew you were an insubordinate, spoiled child, but this is a new extreme even for you!”

Harry ground his teeth and didn’t reply.

“Of course, you would spit in the face of your relations’ goodwill,” Snape sneered, “but because you decided to push your family too far, I’m the one stuck with you in my house for the rest of the summer. I’m highly displeased and believe me, you’ll soon be just as unhappy as I am.”

“Already getting there,” Harry muttered mutinously.

“Do not talk back!” Snape barked. Harry couldn’t help but jump back, suddenly feeling horribly certain the man was about to strike him across the face. Snape did no such thing, however. “I will have none of your insolence, is that understood? I have complete control over you and your life for this month, and I can make you utterly miserable if you choose to misbehave."

Harry scoffed. He could be the model of manners and decorum, but Snape wasn't able to see past his overly large nose when it came to Harry. It was pointless trying, really.

"Rule-breaking will not be tolerated here, Potter, let that be known," Snape said, shaking his finger at Harry. "You’ll soon be sorry you ever left your relatives’ tender care.”

Harry resisted the urge to snort. Tender care. Anyone who spent more than five minutes in the company of Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon would be quickly corrected about that assumption, particularly when it came to their relationship with Harry.

"Do not test me, Potter," Snape said in a soft, dangerous voice. "I can happily make your life hell."

It was with that final ominous statement lingering in the air that Snape finally stepped back and gestured towards the rest of the house. On the left hand side of the tiny hallway Harry was standing in was a rickety-looking staircase. His eyes automatically went straight to the cupboard underneath it. The hallway also contained two doors, both of which were closed.

"Leave your trunk," Snape ordered. Harry quickly did so as Snape briskly stepped forward. He threw open the furthest door.

"The kitchen," he said, gesturing to the interior of the room without making room for Harry to step inside. The kitchen was rather grimy, with scratched-up wooden cupboards and a cracked tile floor. A small table was crammed against the wall at the far side of the room. A sliding glass door revealed a brown and weed-ridden garden that Harry thought would have sent Aunt Petunia into a fit. It looked truly wretched, and was a far sight from the perfectly manicured lawns of Privet Drive.

Snape seemed to pick up on Harry's disapproval and scowled. "I don't live in a mansion like you're no doubt used to, Potter. See, some of us have to actually work for our money instead of getting everything handed to us on a silver platter. If this doesn't meet your oh-so high standards, you'll just have to find a way to cope."

"It's fine," Harry muttered. This seemed to be the wrong thing to say, judging by Snape's hostile glare, but it was always the wrong thing with him, wasn't it?

Snape spun on his heel and opened the second door.

"The living room," he said brusquely. Snape was apparently determined to give Harry a tour while using as few words as humanly possible. Harry peeked through the doorway, almost toppling over with shock when he saw who was sitting on the sofa like it was a throne, scowling up at Harry.

It was none other than Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy?" Harry gasped.

Malfoy shut the book he was reading and glowered at Harry. "Potter."

"Did Professor Dumbledore not mention?" Snape asked silkily. He seemed to be greatly pleased by Harry's horrified face. "Draco is also staying with me at the moment."

Harry hadn't known it was possible to dread the rest of August more than he had been since Dumbledore had told him about this awful arrangement. How wrong he'd been…