Dear Ron,

I’m sorry but it looks like I won’t be able to meet up with you guys before school. Some things happened and

Impatiently Harry crumbled the paper into a small ball that he threw into his growing pile of attempted letters. He couldn’t write that! Ron would think that he had gotten his legs cut off or something and worry half to death until they could meet.

Since when did he struggle so to write letters to his friends? It was all because he did not want them to worry but he knew that they would when he could not meet up with them in Diagon Alley before school, as they had both asked him to. So he tried to explain why he could not. Only he couldn’t really explain it without making them worry.

Pulling out a new sheet of parchment he got started on another letter.

Dear Ron,

Congratulations for your dad winning that draw! I bet Egypt is really amazing.

I’ve had an eventful summer as well. I’ll tell you all about it on the train. I won’t be able to meet you guys in Diagon Alley before school. I’ve already done my shopping and I doubt I’ll be allowed to go again. Meet you on the train, ok?

Thanks for the gift by the way.

Harry

That seemed a little better than the first attempts. He couldn’t really tell his friends about all that had happened during the summer in a letter. That would just look stupid. Dear Ron and Hermione, the Dursleys threw me out and now I am living with Professor Snape and his son, who as you know just happen to be my father and my brother, and they both hate having me here. Oh, and Snape took us to get ice cream when we went shopping for our school things!

Nope, he could not write that. In the best case they would believe he was joking, in the worst they would do something like stealing Ron’s Dad’s enchanted car and try and come to save him. Snape would love that, no doubt.

His letter to Hermione was much the same as the one to Ron, and he hoped that the witch would be smart enough to understand that he was not in any big trouble – or at least no bigger than usual. He had just signed it and was putting the letters in their envelopes when Snape entered the living room and glared at him.

-          “What do you think you are doing Potter?”

-          “Just writing to my friends sir,” Harry replied with a sigh. He was really not in the mood for another argument. The last few days there had been plenty enough of arguing and Harry had long ago realized that whatever the situation he always came out on the losing end when Snape was involved.

-          “Not getting into any trouble, are we, Potter?”

-          “No sir. Just telling them that I won’t be able to meet up with them before school starts.”

Snape looked at him as if trying to determine the truth in what he was saying. Harry held his breath, hoping that Snape would not demand to read the letters. He had nothing to hide really, but he was sure that Snape would find something to taunt him for anyway.

-          “And what about your summer assignments?” Snape asked next.

Silently Harry sighed. The Dursleys hadn’t even allowed him to do his homework and he had been forced to smuggle his books one at the time to his room so he could do his assignments at night. Snape was all over him about it; checking his essays and forcing him to re-do them because he had missed some thing or other. Harry didn’t appreciate either behavior.

-          “I’ve finished the one on Transfiguration sir. I just figured I could take a short break and write my friends before I got started on the one for History of Magic.”

-          “And don’t forget your essay in shrinking potions either. I will not accept the same pathetic excuse of an essay that I got from you last year!”

Harry had been quite happy that he had managed to do his summer assignments at all last year.

-          “Yes sir,” Harry sighed again, reaching for a book so that he could start working on the next essay.

Just then the fireplace filled with green flames and spit out a blonde boy about Ian’s age. The boy stumbled a little as he stepped out of the floo but quickly straightened up and stepped aside, which was good because the next moment a man followed him through.

-          “Cecil!” Ian shouted, coming running from the kitchen. “Cecil you’re here! Finally!”

-          “Mr. Dotrice,” Snape greeted the other man.

-          “Snape,” Mr. Dotrice greeted back, shaking the potions Professor’s hand.

Harry looked curiously at the newcomers. He had been told that there would be a guest coming for the last two weeks of the summer but he had not been familiar with the name Dotrice. Apparently Mr. and Mrs. Dotrice made experimental potions and were now going to work on something with a colleague in Germany. Their son Cecil, who was a friend of Ian’s, would be staying with the Snape’s for the duration of the summer before he too would be heading for Hogwarts.

-          “Here you are son,” Mr. Dotrice said, picking out a small box from his pocket, which he then enlarged until it was very clearly a school trunk. “Sure you didn’t forget anything?”

-          “I’m sure dad.”

-          “Come on Cecil, let’s go upstairs!”

Ian and Cecil helped each other to carry the trunk up the stairs and to Ian’s bedroom. Harry looked after them, having rarely seen such a smile on Ian’s face before.

-          “And who’s this?” Mr. Dotrice wondered, looking at Harry.

-          “I’m Harry sir. Harry Potter,” Harry introduced himself.

-          “Oh, really? It’s nice meeting you, Mr. Potter. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

-          “Mr. Potter too will be staying at this house until school starts,” Snape explained, looking like he had just tasted a lemon.

-          “Yes, yes, I read the Daily Prophet. Must be nice finally getting it confirmed, isn’t it? I can’t imagine how it would be, finding out that you have a son you had no idea of.”

Mr. Dotrice sighed compassionately and shook his head, as if he had trouble believing that such things actually happened.

-          “Either way it sounds like you are going to have your hands full for the next two weeks Snape! Three boys to look after! Are you sure you’ll manage?”

-          “I’m sure I’ll manage somehow,” Snape replied sourly.

They moved on into the kitchen to continue their conversation. Harry listened for a few minutes, until the discussion turned on the subject of potions and he found himself toning out their voices. Instead he tried to focus on the essays he had to write. ‘Which-Burning in the Fourteenth Century Was Completely Pointless – discuss’ was the subject and Harry had already written this same essay a few weeks ago. That had been before Aunt Marge’s visit.

As Harry began skimming through his book, looking for the passages he had used last time, he was vaguely aware that the two Dotrices bid each other farewell and that the elder of the two left through the floo again.

Just before dinner time Harry finished his essay on witch-burning. Relieved to finally have finished it he put the books back in an orderly pile next to the sofa that was his bed, and returned the parchment, quill and ink to the his trunk. Snape did not allow for any messes in his house. Then finally, finally, he stood up and stretched. He had thought that doing homework with Hermione was bad, but Snape had actually forced him to spend the whole day just doing his assignments.

With the two letters he had written earlier in his hand he ventured outside to see if he could find Hedwig. She sat in a tree nearby and came when he called for her.

-          “Hi girl,” he said, giving her one of the owl-treats he had bought in Diagon Alley. “Do you mind delivering two letters for me? For Ron and Hermione?”

In reply the owl held out her leg for him to fasten the letters to. Carefully he did so, whilst continuing to talk softly to her. During summer she really was his only friend, and this was a fact that did not change whether he lived with his Aunt and Uncle or Snape.

-          “I’m not sure where they are. Ron said his family would be back about a week before school starts. If they are early they might already be at the Burrow. If not I guess they’ll still be abroad. Hermione didn’t say when she would be back. You think you’ll be able to find them?”

Hedwig nibbled at his fingers as if to reassure him that she would be just fine. She had found them before, hadn’t she? Harry petted her fondly before letting her take off. He stood watching her until she had disappeared in the sky.

-          “Talking you yourself, Potter?” Ian’s voice shouted.

Harry turned around to see his half-brother standing in the window in his room, looking down at him. Next to him was the other boy, Cecil, wearing a less malicious copy of Ian’s smile.

-          “You must be, because no one else wants to hear your rambling!” Ian continued, obviously finding himself funny. Apparently with a friend on his side he had gone from ignoring Harry most of the time to taunting him for entertainment.

-          “Then why were you listening in on a private conversation between me and my owl?” Harry asked back.

This made both boys crack up in laughter. Harry tried to convince himself that he did not care. At least Ian was just making fun of him. Dudley was worse, with his Harry-hunting and near constant bullying. Yes, Harry decided, even with a sidekick Ian was nothing compared to Dudley.

-          “See, I told you he was an idiot!” Ian told Cecil, then turned back out the window to Harry. “Hey Potter, get me my book, will you? I forgot it in father’s office.”

Harry gritted his teeth, knowing that Ian was just out to humiliate him. He may not try to dip his head down the toilet like Dudley had, but Ian Snape was no fun either.

-          “I can’t,” Harry told him.

-          “And why is that, Potter?”

-          “You know why.”

-          “Do I? I’m afraid I must have forgotten. Please remind me.”

Ian was smiling widely, Cecil following the conversation excitedly. Harry wondered what he had ever done to deserve this.

-          “I’m not allowed in the office,” he admitted.

Cecil laughed at that, and Harry wondered why it felt so humiliating having to admit something like that in front of a boy he had never met before.

-          “He’s an idiot,” Ian explained to his friend, still smiling. “No wonder father doesn’t trust him. And can you believe I actually had to share my clothes with him when he first came?”

They withdrew further into the room and Harry could no longer hear what they were saying. It didn’t really matter to Harry though. He could imagine what they were saying about him, and how they must be laughing. It felt a bit like it had when he had been five and had started school for the first time, only to discover that the new friends he had hoped to make were chased away by Dudley and his gang.

Angrily he kicked the ground, wondering why everything always seemed to turn out with people mocking him. What was it about him that made him so easy to hate?

-          “Potter! Instead of vandalizing my lawn I suggest you get inside and help prepare dinner!” Snape’s voice immediately scolded him.

-          “Yes sir,” Harry sighed, suddenly feeling very tired of it all.

The last two weeks of summer would be very, very tiresome.

HPHPHPHP

-          “Father, have you seen my Exploding Snap cards?”  

Snape did not look up from the potion he was brewing. Ian was standing in the door to the laboratory, wise enough not to enter without his father’s permission.

-           “No, I have not,” Snape replied distractedly.  

-          “Oh. It’s just that Cecil and I was going to play and I can’t find it. I was sure I left it in my room but I figure I must have left it somewhere else.”

As the potion turned the perfect shade of blue Snape ground the beetle’s eyes and added them to the concoction. Stirring three times counterclockwise the potion turned darker and Snape could feel the vague smell of the diced flobberworms he had added earlier.

-          “Perfect,” he muttered to himself before turning to his son. “Have you looked in the kitchen?”

-          “Yes,” Ian nodded.

-          “And the living room?”

-          “Yes.”

-          “Look again,” Snape suggested. “If you don’t find them I’ll help you look, ok?”

-          “Ok father. Come on Cecil.”

With a sigh the boy left the room, closing the door behind him. Snape returned to the potion at hand. Next in turn to be added was the boomslang heart.

Half an hour later there was a knock on the door again. Snape grunted, busy pouring the potion into small glass vials. Ian opened the door but choose not to say anything until his father had finished pouring the potion.

-          “Father?” he asked. “I still can’t find it. Could you please help me find it?”

-          “And it is not in your room?” Snape wondered.

Ian was usually a relatively ordered boy, if nothing else because Snape did not like having his house in chaos. It was rare that toys just disappeared.

-          “No, it’s not. Cecil and I both looked, didn’t we Cecil?”

-          “Yes we did. And we even asked Potter, but he hadn’t seen it either.”

Suddenly he had a sneaking suspicion of where he would find his son’s exploding snap cards. Hadn’t Potter already stolen some game from a neighboring boy while living with his relatives? Snape would have hoped that forcing the boy to clean out the basement would have been punishment enough for the boy to learn a lesson, but if it hadn’t…

Without finishing the thought he swept out the room and down the stairs, both boys following after him. He found Potter sitting in the living room, working on his summer assignments. When Snape entered the boy looked up and Snape fixed him with a glare.

-          “Potter! What do you know about a missing set of exploding snap cards?”

At that Potter had the audacity to look angry. As if Snape didn’t have sufficient grounds to suspect the boy for stealing them!

-          “I don’t know anything sir,” Potter said simply. “I haven’t seen them at all.”

-          “Last chance Potter. If you know anything you better admit.”

Angry, green eyes met Snape’s challengingly. Snape sneered at the boy and whipped out his wand.

-          “Accio exploding snap!”

A moment later something seemed to be thumping against the inside of Potter’s trunk. It was the only sound in the otherwise silent room and made it more than obvious that something was wrong. Slowly the boy reached out and opened the trunk. Immediately a bunch of cards in different colors flew out and directed themselves to Snape’s hands.

-          “You didn’t know anything, Potter?”

Snape’s voice was sharp with anger. The boy had lied to him! The blasted boy had looked him in the eyes and lied to him! And he had dared to steal from his son, when they had opened their home for him!

The anger within Snape seemed to reach new heights. Such insolence! He had to force himself to take deep, slow breaths to stay calm. He was a controlled man and he did not lose control of his temper, he reminded himself. Not even over Potter. But oh how he wanted to just hex the blasted boy.

-          “I didn’t … I don’t know how that got there!”

Trembling with anger Snape raised his hand and pointed towards the closest corner. Potter looked confused, which only angered Snape even more. Of course even the most minor of discipline had been spared the Boy Who Lived!

-          “Go stand in that corner,” Snape barked.

It was a technique he had not used for a while, Ian having grown big enough to know better most of the time. However now he felt that he needed to have Potter out of the way so that he could calm down and deal with this in a responsible manner.

Slowly Potter got up, putting his quill away and taking the time to close the lid of the bottle with his ink. Snape resisted the urge to grind his teeth together. When Potter finally did reach the corner he turned around to face the room, obviously looking for further guidance.

-          “Face the wall, Potter!” Snape ordered. “Now stay there until I say otherwise!”

Handing his son the cards Snape left the room, heading for his laboratory. He needed to get his mind off this for a while, and the best way would be by brewing something. And thanks to Potter’s idea of crushing his storage of healing potions he had plenty enough to brew.  

HPHPHPHPHPHP

By dinnertime Snape had calmed down. Heading to the kitchen he passed through the living room, noticing Potter still standing in the corner facing the wall. He smirked to himself. Potter could stay while he prepared dinner, let the boy wonder if he would be forced to stand in the corner instead of eating!

Snape wasn’t a monster, however, and as he finished dinner he called for Potter that he could leave the corner. He wasn’t the kind of man that would let a child go hungry as a punishment, even if it was Potter. Besides, he had had enough time to think of punishments that he felt confident what he had in store would be more than enough to teach Potter to keep away from other people’s belongings.

Dinner was eaten in silence. Potter seemed sullen and the other two boys were whispering between each other. Snape thought it was all rather nice and afterwards he sent Potter to finish his homework for the summer, telling the boy that he would have other things to the following day. Potter looked dejected at that. Snape was not affected.

That evening Snape sent a letter to a friend of his, to arrange things for the following day.

In the morning there was a pile of wood behind the outhouse in the backyard. Snape especially checked that it had not been chopped, just as he had asked in his letter.

After breakfast he delighted in leading Potter outside and show him the large pile of wood.

-          “This will be your punishment, Potter. You will chop this wood, and you will do it properly!” Snape declared.

A stunned expression appeared on Potter’s face and Snape delighted in it. Potter hadn’t objected much when he had been told he would have to do daily chores to earn his stay at the house, or when he had been ordered to clean out the basement. Now however Snape could very clearly tell that this was a task that Potter had never even imagined that he could be charged with.

-          “Get started! The chopping block is over there, there’s the axe. I suggest you handle it carefully, because we’re out on healing potions should you injure yourself.”

The axe had been spelled so that it would only chop through wood. Should Potter miss and hit his leg instead it would hurt but it would not break his skin. This was however knowledge that Snape felt Potter did not need to know to do as he was told.

Hesitantly Potter stepped up and took the axe in his hand, needing the help of his other hand in order to lift it.

-          “You’ll need to put the wood on the chopping block before you swing the axe,” Snape suggested.

Potter did as told, giving Snape a questioning glance as he did. Snape stood with his arms crossed, looking expectantly at the boy. Truthfully he himself did not know more than the very basics of how to swing an axe. Normally when he bought firewood he bought it chopped and ready but now he had decided that having Potter chop it would be suitable. It saved Snape some money and would hopefully earn Potter some sore muscles from swinging that heavy axe.

With both hands on the axe Potter lifted it high and swung it downwards. It missed the wood and instead hit the chopping block. Potter blushed, tugged the axe loose from where it had buried itself in the chopping block and swung the axe again. This time he hit the wood and it cut halfway through before it was stuck.

Satisfied that Potter would have his work cut out for him Snape turned around and headed inside. He had some more potions that needed brewing, and if the window of his laboratory offered a perfect view over Potter struggling with the axe, then that was just another bonus.