In a rush, Martha Jones parked at the back of the school parking lot, got out of her car into the hot summer air and opened the back door for her son. She had had to take him to the Doctor’s that morning and now she was running late. Her son hopped out of the car, and spotting a backpack on the floor of the backseat that she KNEW wasn’t supposed to be there during the day while she was at work, she picked it up and pulled her son to the entrance of his Elementary school.

She signed them in quickly at the air conditioned school office, was given a visitor’s pass and directed to take him to the playground where his class and the rest of the school were.

Pulling at an itch beneath her pantyhose with one hand, she balanced a book bag and her son with the other before setting off through the school in a quick pace to the exit where she could drop him off. Her heels clacked against the brightly buffed floor as in her head she reviewed her key points for the meeting she had next.

“Bobby, hurry up.” She called out to her son who was lagging behind.

Her cell phone rang and she immediately answered it. As one of the leading advertisement agents for one of the hottest companies she was always busy.

“Hi Bentley, yes it’s Martha. I’m on my way right now. Remember to make sure that the slides are in the right order and that everything’s working right…”

Still chatting on the phone, she dropped off Bobby right next to one of the lunch ladies at the doors to the playground and dropped the backpack on the ground. Giving one last pat on Bobby’s head, she moved back through the school and off to that important meeting.

Bobby scowled as he was left in the care of the lunch lady. The sound of laughter and shrieks of children were in the air across the playground and he felt hot. He hated having to be here- he wanted to stay home alone and watch cartoons after his awful Doctor’s appointment but his mom wouldn’t let him. She was so mean sometimes. And now since she left it here he was stuck with his sister’s book bag. He hated that book bag and he was so mad that he was stuck with it now. He wanted to kick it and smash it into the ground and tear it to pieces but his sister would kill him if he did.

He wanted to get rid of it, put it out of sight.

“Mrs. Finley?” Bobby asked to get the woman’s attention. “Can I put this in the classroom?”

Mrs. Finley was an old looking woman to Bobby’s eyes with light brown hair and a sour attitude. “No, Bobby. No one would be able to take you because Mrs. Farrow had to take some children to the nurse- and no, you can’t go yourself.” The woman told him in a final voice before he could ask.

“Yes I can.” He said, pointing to the door propped open and the long hallway so darkened by the contrast of light that you couldn’t see it. “I could just go down there and put it away, you could watch.”

“NO, Bobby.” The woman said as a girl handed her a green ball to put away.

Stupid lunch ladies. He could go by himself, he was almost 8 years old and a lot bigger and older than most of the babies on the playground on this side.

“Come on, I won’t do anything.” He whined.

“NO and that’s final so quit asking.”

“But I don’t wan it!” He cried and stamped his foot. “I Hate IT!”

“I’m sorry, Bobby, but you have to have it until the bell rings, then you can put it away when the class goes inside.” The woman told him in a slightly more understanding voice. Humph.

She was distracted when a crying girl in pigtails ran up to her with a badly scrapped knee.

His whining and tantrum about taking his sister’s backpack to the classroom hadn’t worked and now Mrs. Finley was focusing on this new girl so in a horrible attitude he dragged the stupid thing all along the side playground wall, wanting to get as much distance between himself and the dumb lady as he could. It served his sister right if it got all dirty and torn for leaving it in the car so he got stuck with it. His mom should KNOW that his backpack was orange, not PURPLE. He had purposefully left his backpack at home because he had thought that he would have been able to stay home today. But no, she had to be mean and make him go to school.

“Hey Bobby!” one of his friends, Nick, called out, pulling away from a game of tag before stopping and eyeing the horrible purple thing with disgust. “Is that yours?”

“No’s my sister’s.” He grumbled and dragged the backpack farther along the wall. Nick followed him, and then Heng was there, panting and smiling before looking at the backpack.

“So why’d you have it?”

“My mom left it behind by accident!” Bobby shrugged at his friend and wanted to do something cool to show off. He moved to the far side of the wall and made sure that the lunch ladies weren’t looking at him before he picked up the backpack by one of the straps and swung it around. It was heavy and gave him a feeling of power. He liked that so he swung it faster and then spun around in a complete circle.

“Haha, Super-Smasher!” Bobby called out and spun around again, letting the spinning motion lift the stupid book bag up a little before he slowed down and let it drop to the ground. It was a pretty heavy thing, his sister was in middle school and had all sorts of big books and binders and pencil cases and junk that she had to take to school everyday.

He looked around the playground to make sure that his friends were watching and that the stupid people in charge weren’t. He spotted that geeky kid, Benny, and the new kid near each other, just standing around and looking dumb hiding next to where the wall met the fence. He hated Benny. He thought that he was so smart and he looked so geeky with his glasses almost as thick as his face. And he was so small and sniffling all the time too with snot hanging out of his nose and annoying. Just because he was younger than everyone else and skipped a grade he thought that he was so much more special.

The new kid wasn’t much better. He was such a dork. He acted funny and talked funny and Bobby could barely understand him and that made him feel stupid and he hated feeling stupid. And he wore such geeky clothes too, collared shirts and the type of pants that the other kids were only forced to wear to school during picture day.

And he was a tattle tale. As much as he hated Benny, he hated the new kid more for telling on him yesterday.

He went over to them, passing a game of tag on the way. Benny was the nearest, hopping from foot to foot but stilling as Bobby came over. Bobby swung his sister’s backpack around, trying to scare Benny maybe. Bobby was fun to scare and always either ran away or gave in or started to cry.

The little wimp started to move away as Bobby swung the heavy backpack around. Bobby just followed, taunting as he went. “Hey four eyes! What are you doing over here? I’m going to hit you and splash you against the wall.”

He swung the stupid backpack to show Benny and everyone what he would do and Nick urged him on.

“Yeah get him Bobby!”

“Haha, Super-Smasher!” He swung around in a big circle. He could smash him. He could do anything. But he was getting dizzy and didn’t want to spin right into the wall so he laughed and stopped turning, the weight of the bag dropping to the black pavement.

The new kid stormed up to him, moving past Bobby’s target and inserting himself right at him.

“Leave him alone.” The kid told him but Bobby didn’t listen to kids smaller than him. He was pretty small, he probably skipped a grade too and Bobby hated kids like that when he was held back twice.

“Oh yeah? What are you going to go about it, snot face?” He moved closer to the new kid and swung the backpack around twice trying to scare him to move away and the kid was watching him as if he were just watching him, uninterested maybe not scared? As if he didn’t think that Bobby had it in him.

“What are you going to do about it?” the kid questioned him back in that annoying way of his that Bobby couldn’t answer to and he felt the loss of his control over – well, he didn’t know what- slipping. Grr, he hated that kid and so he took a big step over and spun around and whammed that kid good to teach him a lesson, that Bobby Jones followed through.

The kid sure wasn’t expecting that. He went practically flying and landed on the ground. Bobby stilled his backpack, suddenly fearful of what he just did. What if he killed the kid or really hurt him or got caught or tattled on? Everything stopped it seemed, as he just looked at the fallen kid.

But then there was a breath, then another and everything started up okay. The kid was fine and Bobby felt dislike for him again. How dare he make him scared or worried, he didn’t like this kid like he was his friend or something.

“Harry?” Benny bent over fearfully over the kid, giving a fearful glance at Bobby. What a scaredy cat.

The kid got up a little and breathed heavily. “I’m fine.” He said calmly but Bobby could see tears in his eyes. What a cry baby.

The kid, Harry, got up and then... he looked at Bobby, a sort of scary look, one that he didn’t like.

But then the bell rang and he ran off. The kid wouldn’t do anything or tell on him. And Benny was a scardey cat so he wouldn’t squeal. Even if they did, there was no proof. He would be fine, he hoped.

That kid was strange, and he didn’t like it.

---

The day for Harry so far had been pretty okay. Ms. Kincaid complimented him on his neat letters that morning and the little boy who sat across from him, Benny, had asked his name and shared some kind of fruit snack with him during lunch. And he in turn, gave him a small chocolate cake from his lunch.

It was now recess and Harry was standing at the edge of the playground, the sun shining down on the grey pavement and the top of his head, making his dark hair feel hot. The faint smell of cut grass and the sound of gleeful and fearful shrieks were on the air. He was most comfortable just watching the other children play as when he had been a child joining in with any other children in a group meant that something would go wrong or that Dudley would hurt him somehow. Besides, he didn’t really know how to play in a group like this, children running around every-which way. Benny was standing near him, watching too as he hopped from one foot to the other.

From the corner of his eye, he watched as a woman dressed in a business suit and holding a portable phone came out of the back doors of the school followed by the big blond kid from the day before. The boy’s name was Bobby, Harry remembered that, and even though he seemed like the biggest child in the class, Harry hadn’t noticed that he had been absent in the classroom that morning. Harry turned his full attention to them and watched as the woman dropped a bag at the feet of a scowling Bobby and then left with a casual pat and a vague wave.

A large red ball crashed into the fence behind him and Harry’s attention was diverted as he watched a little girl run after it, scoop it up and return to her friends.

He continued to watch the playground activities before a swinging movement to his side caught his attention. It was Bobby and he was spinning that pack that had been dropped off with him around like some big anchor weight.

The bigger boy was advancing on Benny, taunting him that he would hit him with it and Harry immediately went over to save him. The sight of a larger boy bullying a smaller one in spectacles was something that Harry wouldn’t allow to happen if he were around. It brought up too many painful memories that he didn’t want to bother remembering ever.

“Leave him alone.” Harry demanded.

“Oh yeah? What are you going to go about it, snot face?” Bobby taunted swinging his pack around some more and started to advance on both of them this time.

“What are you going to do about it?” Harry reiterated, challengingly. Bobby started up his circle swinging again but Harry knew that he wouldn’t really do anything, here in the playground in front of all the minders. He turned to Benny who was standing next to him. “He won’t do anything, Benny.” He consoled the younger boy.

But the minders had started to collect the balls and playground equipment, the children crowding around them and distracting them for anything else which might be going on.

And then there was an impact- a startling, unexpected impact in the middle of his back that picked him up and nearly sent him flying.

He saw stars and lay stunned on his hands and knees on the pavement. He wasn’t breathing, not moving, but he was aware of the sounds around him, like echoes, the shrieking children on the playground, the sound of the pack hitting the pavement next to Bobby’s shoes.

He breathed in.

“Harry?” a small timid voice asked him that he recognized as Benny’s and after a moment he reassured him as he started to get up, “I’m fine.” At least he thought he was. The pain on his back throbbed but he forced himself to get to his feet and look at Bobby in the eye.

He was surprised that the other boy had done that. But doing that… it was personal now.

The school bell rang and they broke eye contact. Bobby picked off his pack and ran off nervously. The rest of the children on the playground scattered from their games towards the school entrance.

“Are you really okay Harry?” Benny was standing next to him, looking really worried and gnawing on his bottom lip, his eyes enlarged behind his distorting spectacles.

Harry breathed in; his back gave a burning jab as his muscles and ribs expanded and it hurt. He wrapped his arms around himself.

“Children, it’s time to come in!” A lunch minder yelled at them from across the grounds.

But he had dealt with pain before. “Yeah, m’okay.” He said as he left one arm around himself in a comforting manner and started for the lines of students near the door.

“Harry you should go to the nurse.” Benny said worriedly as he followed.

“No, dun need to.”

“Don’t worry, she’s really nice and sometimes if you’re good and you’re hurt real bad she’ll give you a sticker, she has a machine that you put a magic coin in and you get a little- a little thing with a sticker on a paper inside.”

Harry just shock his head ‘no’ and moved his shoulder around, trying to somehow alleviate the pain from a spot that he couldn’t reach. It hurt but it wasn’t bad.

The classroom was darkened when they came back in and the large fan was on, making a loud whirling sound, moving papers from the ceiling and walls around. Harry lay down on his mat on his stomach and concentrated on taking very small breaths. Okay so maybe it was that bad, but he could deal with it.

He lay there for a long time before dozing off for a few minutes. He was groggily shaken awake by the student teacher, Ms. Kincaid.

“Harry, it’s time to wake-up now.”

He crankily but silently got up and went to his desk.

Benny gave him funny looks all through the afternoon. His back throbbed distractedly but he knew that it wasn’t anything important, he would heal and it would go away in a day or two. He didn’t want to bother anyone with it and besides, it wasn’t that important. What could he do to explain how he got it? That a bully hit him with his book bag? He didn’t want to get into that.

“Alright children it’s coloring time, draw whatever you feel like on your paper and we’ll come around to see them.”

Harry picked up his crayon and looked at the white sheet of paper resting before him. He didn’t know what to draw and the hurt he had was distracting him with every breath. He tried to bring his attention back by reminding him self what he was supposed to be doing. The task was to draw what he wanted to draw. What did he want to draw?

He didn’t want to draw anything. Why did he have to draw at all? Harry picked up the red crayon and made a bright red, angry scribble in the middle of the paper.

He was tired and cranky and everything was wrong.

Without realizing it, he had picked up the black crayon and started to make circles with it. He looked down and stopped his hand from moving any more. Glancing around the classroom and the walls of artwork, he realized that the rest of the children were most likely drawing pictures of their families and friends and rainbows. The girls at his table had a multitude of hearts on their papers and he noticed that Benny had a couple too next to a large green blob with long legs and a stick head.

Miss Kincaid stopped by Benny’s desk and admired his drawing. “What a great drawing, Benny!”

“It’s a dinosaur,” Benny proudly informed her, “And he’s going to have orange and purple spots because no one really knows what colour they are so this one has orange and purple spots. But I’m going to give him glasses because he’s a magical dinosaur who goes through time and needs them to have his x-ray vision.”

“Very nice, Benny.” Miss Kincaid said and then smiled at him before moving on to Harry’s desk. “Hi, Harry. How is your coloring coming?”

“I was just scribbling.” Harry muttered and quickly picked up another piece of paper to hide the horrible paper with the red scribbles and black hole. Consciously, he picked up the red crayon again and drew a heart right in the middle of it.

“I’m going to draw…” a rock? A toad? my family? “me.” He informed her and picked up the black crayon to make a round face and add black spiky hair on top of it.

“What about me?” Jenny, the girl sitting next to him demanded. “Look at my drawing.” And Ms Kincaid moved over to do so. “See? I made a unicorn and she has pretty jewels and a crown and lots of hearts because she’s the prettiest unicorn who can fly through clouds-.”

Harry steadfastly continued with his drawing, trying to ignore the prattle next to him. He drew two eyes with the green crayon before moving on and making a shirt and a pair of trousers with sticks hanging out of them for arms and legs. He made circles at the ends to be his hands and feet. He was half aware of Ms. Kincaid moving away to a different table as he continued with his drawing. He didn’t know what expression to make so he just made a nose and left the rest of it blank, lastly placing an ugly disfiguring scar on its forehead with the red, almost cleaving the head in half.

Surveying his drawing, Harry frowned at it and hid it under a clean sheet of paper. Maybe he should just try drawing a dinosaur. With lots of hearts.

---

The school day ended and Harry tried to keep up with the other children as they were marched out of the classroom and to the front of the school.

When he saw Hoppity, he tried to give his best smile. It must have looked a little strained because she looked at him a little before reaching out and patting his head.

“Harry are you alright?”

“Yeah, fine.” He assured her.

She looked at him for a moment before getting up. “Maybe you’re just tired. Come on, let’s get you home.”

They got home with just a short stop to the grocery market to buy more tea to try because Snape had been grumbling about the off-taste of most of the tea that they had that morning.

When they entered, the house was cold compared to the hot summer air outside and Hoppity frowned before moving to the temperature gauge along the back wall of the parlour and adjusting it.

“Would you like to have a nap?” She asked as she studied the readout before turning to him.

Harry was slightly shocked. A nap! Was she serious? He only actually lied down at that school because everyone else did and he had to. No, he did not need a nap, he had slept the whole night before. He fixed her with an indignant glare.

“Alright, alright.” She said smiling and surrendering to diffuse the tension. “How about a snack then? Some sugar should perk you right up.”

Harry had no problem with that and he said as much, following her into the kitchen and helping her pick out what to eat.

Hoppity made some jelly sandwiches out of the bread and raspberry jelly in the kitchen for them to eat and even cut his into small wedges and poured him a glass of chocolate milk.

He did feel a little better after a bite of his snack and a sip of his milk. “Can I go visit Michael?” Harry asked with his mouth full and his feet swinging.

“Erm, Harry don’t you have a lesson with professor Snape this afternoon?”

“.. yeah.”

“And do you think that you would be able to remember to get home in time?”

“Yes?”

Hoppity just gave him a look. Harry fidgeted and tried to give her an innocent expression back.

“Maybe it would be better if you stayed home today. You’ll be playing football with Michael the day after tomorrow and if you’d like I could ring up his mum and schedule a play date for you with him.”

Maybe that would be okay. He was let down about not playing with Michael, he was having a really bad day so far but being able to play soccer and play with Michael for sure soon seemed great.

“Well I know that your train set is still up in your second room…” Hoppity suggested. “You could go play and I’ll come get you before your lesson so that you aren’t late, okay?”

Harry swallowed a bite of jelly and bread as he nodded. “Okay.”

“That’s a good lad.”

Hoppity got him as promised, five minutes before 4 o’clock. She leaned her head into the room, holding on to the door frame and called out to him from where he was playing conductor on the floor.

“Harry, it’s time. Snape is waiting in the downstairs back room. You know, the big empty one with the fireplace.” Harry nodded and went to get up.

“I’ve been thinking,” Hoppity started as she followed him to the stairs. ”Maybe I ought to start calling him ‘Your Father’ or ‘Daddy’ so that I don’t mess up in public.”

Augh. Please, no. Not even in public did he wish to hear that.

“Snape’s fine. I won’t mess up.” He said adamantly. He planned to not call him anything at all. Or Sir. Sir was safe.

He traveled downstairs, Hoppity following him through the parlour and through the kitchen to stand at the doorway to the empty room with the fireplace. Only it wasn’t so empty just then, a chair was placed off to one side near the entrance and Snape himself was pacing next to it.

Harry stood at the threshold for a short moment, peaking into the room through the opening before Snape spotted him. He stopped his pacing immediately.

“Amazing, Potter. You’re actually on time for once. Get in here.” Snape commanded crossly and pointed to a spot in the middle of the room with one long finger.

Harry left the safety of the kitchen rather reluctantly, but bravely as he was wont to do, and went to stand where he was told. He would just have to get through this lesson as best he could and hope that it went fast.

Snape crossed his arms in front of his torso and started up with a lecturing tone. “Today we will begin the subtle art of meditation, the first step in Occlumency to help you clear your mind.” He stopped and then looked up to address something behind Harry coldly. “Do you mind? I’d like some privacy for the lesson.”

Harry turned to see Hoppity still standing there in the kitchen, watching. “Oh,” She said and made an oops face and then quietly stepped away.

He watched her move towards the kitchen doorway until Snape’s voice demanded his attention. “Now then Potter, since your last attempt at following my directions on your own proved worthless, you will now have to do them in front of me. There will be no Legilimency attempts in these lessons, we will work on clearing your mind and then we will work on linking your… other mental abilities to the defenses one would use in Occlumency.”

Harry had been thus quiet, but even with his unassuming nature he was unable to stop his curiosity voicing itself. “Sir- what other abilities?”

“Quiet, Potter. I shall explain that when we get to them. Now sit down. Facing the chair.” Snape said, pointing to a spot before the only chair in the room.

Harry regarded the part of the floor Snape was pointing at before taking a few steps over and then carefully folding himself to the carpet, sitting with his feet under his knees in what people at school called Indian style.

“Don’t slump.” Snape instructed and Harry tried to sit up straighter, making a slight wince at how the posture made the injury in his back, which had never really gone away, feel worse.

Snape paced for a moment, before stopping right next to where Harry was sitting.

“Since you have shown yourself incapable of clearing your mind on your own this time I will be here to make sure you do it. You will sit here for some minutes and when I touch you I want you to open your eyes so that I can see if you’ve done it right- Oh what now Potter?” Snape asked exasperated, clearing interpreting the face Harry made as having something wrong.

“I don’t want to close my eyes.”

“Well, that’s too bad then, isn’t it Potter, since I am the teacher giving the lessons and you are the student and have to do as I say.” Snape said sarcastically.

“I don’t want to.” Harry said petulantly.

“Too bad.” The words were drawn out.

“No.” Harry said emphatically.

“Yes.” Snape hissed.

“No.” Harry made a face and dared to stick out his tongue.

Snape’s eyes widened and his fists clenched before he glared. “Merlin, Potter, Stop that! It won’t be Legilimency or going into your mind- I’ll just be seeing if there are thoughts skirting across that empty head of yours! Now be quiet and shut your eyes!”

Harry made a grimace but did as he was told. There would never be any way for him to clear his mind now, with Snape standing over him and panting from anger but he humored him. There was a slight sound, sort of like the creak of wood and Harry assumed that Snape had sat on the chair. The thought calmed him a little, knowing where Snape was exactly.

“Do you have a specific word or phrase that is meaningful to you? No? Alright then listen to your breaths. We will work on clearing your mind. Relax.”

Relax. Would that even be possible?

“Do not think of anything, just focus on the sound and feeling of your breathing.” Snape instructed him, his voice coming out lowly and levelly, but hardly gently.

With his eyes closed and darkness before his vision, Harry was acutely aware of certain things. The hum of the AC, Hoppity puttering around in a room nearby, the pain in his back and the tough carpet beneath him, a funny slight breeze over his skin moving the tiny hairs on his arm around, the fact that Snape was before him just sitting there and doing nothing but watching him… Harry tried to focus on breathing and letting his mind settle. He tried to drift a little as he breathed in. He wondered if when he went to play football if he’d be allowed to play a game of football or if he’d be stuck doing drills or if he’d just have to watch the whole time and if he would be any good playing. He wanted to draw a picture of Michael and him playing. He wondered what colour the uniforms would be, maybe red?

A long minute ticked by.

There was a nudge on his right knee, Harry opened his eyes to see what it was and discovered that it was Snape’s left shoe.

He looked up to see Snape looking at him seriously, boring into his eyes.

“No. You achieved nothing. Try again.”

Harry made a frown but closed his eyes again. Maybe they would only do this a couple times and he would be able to leave. If they finished soon, he would have enough time to go over to Michael’s.

“Clear your mind.” Snape’s voice came out calmly. “Focus on your breathing and nothing else.”

Breathing. He liked breathing. Maybe he’d have heavy breathing as he ran around playing football.

There was a nudge again and Harry opened his eyes to see Snape staring down at him.

“No. Again.”

Harry gave a sigh and closed his eyes again. This was dumb. And boring.

“Potter don’t think of anything at all. Don’t do anything at all. Just breathe.”

He breathed in measuredly. The spot in his back twinged a little and he breathed back out more carefully. He shifted a little to see if a different position would make it feel better.

“Stop fidgeting!” Snape’s voice came out sharply.

He stilled. After a moment when he thought that Snape wasn’t paying as close attention, he shifted again.

There was a sound like an angered grunt. He stilled.

“Stop moving about and clear your mind. It’s not difficult.”

Harry opened his eyes. “Yes it is!” he said, just to be contrary.

Snape just looked down at him from his seat and rose a challenging eyebrow.

Harry inwardly signed and closed his eyes again. Breathing. He could breathe through his nose. It was on his face and could move. He twitched it a little, feeling it move. Oh yeah, breathing.

He tried to think about breathing again. The hum of the cool air machine started up and there was a funny sound of the air being rushed into the room even though he couldn’t feel it. Maybe if he reached out- No, he was supposed to be focusing on Occlumency or medi-whatever it was, something about thinking about his breathing. Breathing. Lungs... Ribs… He shifted around, feeling his rib cage move around too.

“Potter, do you need to use the loo?” Snape’s voice came out of the darkness. “Are you hungry? You are acting distracted.”

“No. This is just hard.” He said, eyes open and not in the best of moods.

“Try again.” Snape gave an inaudible sigh before moving forwards a little in his seat. “Sit up straight. No, straight. You’re slouching.”

Harry tried to sit up straight but it hurt. “It hurts.” He pouted, upset.

“Stop complaining and sit up- it only hurts because you’re not used to it.”

Resigned, Harry sat up a bit straighter and closed his eyes, trying to focus on his breathing again. This was boring, he was uncomfortable; the AC was unpleasantly cool in summer outfit and he felt tired and in pain.

“Stop fidgeting.”

“I’m cold.”

“Merlin, Potter! Focus.”

Yes, he had heard that already.

“What is the matter with you today?” Snape snapped before carrying on with somewhat defeated tones, “Are you even trying?”

“Yes.” Harry said, his lower lip pressed up.

“Alright. Perhaps we have reached your limits for the day.”

Yay! Maybe he could still get to Michael’s.

“We shall continue on with the next exercise. Stand up.”

Maybe not.

Harry sullenly got to his feet and looked at Snape, waiting for instructions and hoping that this would be easier and quicker than the first part.

Snape stood sideways, apparently deep into thought, one of his hands was raised to his mouth, his fingers brushing past his lips in thought. His other hand was at his side and then as if preparing for something, it went down and pulled something out from a side pocket.

A wand.

“Listen closely Potter. I have… heard that you are singularly able to resist the imperious curse, and more than that, that you can throw it off. Yet, you have no defense to the Dark Lord’s connection, no means to defend yourself mentally. It does not make sense. To have one, one should be able to have the other, yet you do not. So to help you along, I will link the two in hopes that some of your apparent natural ability will influence that which you lack.”

Harry blinked. His eyes were assuredly glazed over at that little speech.

“Do you understand? It is very important that you not do what you think you must. For this once, do not do as you are told.”

Snape pulled out his wand and the little boy visibly clenched. Snape had said that they wouldn’t be using Legilimens, right? A thousand horrible hexes danced through Harry’s mind.

“I daresay that this will be more entertaining for me than it will be for you.” Snape smirked evilly.

“Now resist.”

“Cognito face a Potter,” Snape whispered as he swished his wand back and forth before jabbing it towards Harry.

There was something… that slammed into Harry’s mind only it more like slithered in. “Fly” It said. ‘Okay,’ Harry thought and went to obey.

“Fly.”

Okay. Harry leaned forward and started to flap his ‘wings’, namely his arms. “Fly.”

“Fly. Fly.”

He flapped harder.

“You’re not flying Potter.”

“Fly.” Okay, Harry thought and leaned over more, falling to the floor.

“You can’t fly, you might as well give up. It’s impossible.” Snape said levelly.

No, he was obeying, he was flying. The arms hit the floor as he tried to flap them some more.

“You’re not flying, Potter.”

It went on like that for some time, Snape telling him to give up, that he wasn’t doing it right and that he couldn’t, but Harry kept trying.

“Swim.” The command changed and Harry tried his best. To swim you moved your arms and legs through water. Water, he needed water. Harry went to leave the room, but a sharp tug on his collar pulled him back.

“I told you to SWIM, Potter, not walk away. Now Swim.”

Swim, he had to swim. He got on the floor again and started to move.

“Is that swimming? You’re not even moving.”

He moved his arms along the carpet as if pushing against a current.

“Enough.” Snape said and the spell was lifted, withdrawing like stiff stands of spider webs.

Awareness returned to Harry and his mind reeled. He lay on the carpet, panting for awhile. Why hadn’t he been able to disobey?

“We are done for the day,” Snape said lowly from across the room.

That had been a horrible lesson. What had they even achieved? He never learned anything with Snape, all it ever was, was one big horrible lesson.

Awful. He pushed himself up to his arms and knees and Snape came over to stand over him now, looking down coolly. Git.

Snape crouched down and then reached out with on hand to cup his face. Harry flinched and pulled away, a nasty frown for the world to see. Snape looked into his eyes anyway, and Harry got the vague impression that Snape was checking up on his wellbeing.

He then got up and left the room, leaving Harry alone on the floor.

---

Snape strode into the kitchen to start dinner tea. Perhaps making a meal more involved than usual would be calming.

The lesson had been appallingly lacking. The brat had not been able to remotely clear his mind even once despite the number of chances and prompts he had given him! Was Potter incapable of focusing? No, the very idea was laughable; he knew how Potter looked on the Quidditch Pitch, his attention and whole being fixed solely on that small golden ball for what could be hours at a time. No, the boy could focus when he wished and the fact that he had not been able to for even 30 seconds during their session that day was ridiculous.

He banged two pots together louder than necessary as he pulled them out from a lower cupboard and loudly set them on the stove.

The twit had been sitting at the table, wisely giving him some room and reading a colourful book or some such thing when he walked in. Fortunately, it seemed that she had wisely for once interpreted his angry stride to mean that he didn’t wish for any discussion for once.

Snape pulled out some ingredients and a large, sharp kitchen knife.

Potter wandered in and Snape watched from the corner of his eye as Smirkett motioned the boy over and opened her arms as if offering a hug. Potter moved away but after a tug back on one of his arms, he allowed himself to be picked up, clinging to her on her lap.

What a brat.

Snape put down the knife, recognizing that although he could work angry or frustrated, he would never be able to ignore the disgusting fluff going beyond him without severing a limb.

Perhaps starting a cup of tea would be a better course of action for the moment. He got out the small pot that served as a temporary tea kettle and set it on the Muggle cooker, turning the funny knob to the correct temperature.

The earlier lesson with Potter had been very frustrating, but at least the latter activities had amused him. He relished the memory of Potter flapping his arms around and falling to the ground in an attempt to fly. And taunting the boy with his own inadequacies and inability to obey in the name of helping him for his own good had been the monkshood in his clarifying potion.

He would have to bottle the memory when they got back to Hogwarts for special occasions. By then he should have plenty of similar scenes to pick from.

But despite the entertainment, Snape knew exactly how important and dangerous those lessons could be. If Potter ever found a way to obey the commands, then instead of trying to build up mental strength and resistance it would backfire and eat away at his impressive ability to resist Imperious. Snape had to make sure that Potter never, ever was able to obey any of the commands he gave him.

He turned around and leaned against the counter, belatedly realizing that he would have to view more of that… fluff. Smirkett was still holding the brat in her arms, giving him a little hug as she rocked him and made cooing noises.

“You’ve had such a long day, haven’t you?” She said sympathetically as she patted the top of the boy’s head. “I think that you deserve something for being so good.”

The twit turned her head to look at him expectantly before mouthing something that looked like “what about his toys?”

“No. He had an appallingly bad first lesson.” Snape said with finality and turned to look through the top cupboards for a cup. It was obvious the way the brat was manipulating her.

When he turned back Smirkett was still rocking the Potter boy and was still looking at him, this time with a pleading expression. Unfortunately, Snape remembered that he had said that he would think about giving the brat back the toys he had confiscated yesterday.

“Tomorrow.” He stated, giving in but making sure that it came out warningly.

---

Harry had changed into his pajamas and was fishing around under his bed to pull Roofy out when Hoppity found him. Only his bare feet sticking out of his pajama bottoms were visible from under the bed and she gave an amused smile.

“Come on, Harry. There’ll be no sleeping under the bed tonight.” She told the little boy gently and started to turn down the covers on his bed.

He really was a little angel, if you could ignore the little bit the other day when he went through Snape’s belongings. Even though she could understand why he did it, it didn’t make it any less wrong and Snape had been right to be angry. She just hoped that he would get over it soon and that Harry wouldn’t try something like that again.

Harry crawled into the space between the sheets, clutching his stuffed dragon tight.

“This time you’ll stay in your bed, right? I won’t come in later and find you hiding under your bed again please.” Hoppity pulled the blankets over Harry and smothered them up to his neck and the neck of his dragon before gently patting him on the head. For the few days that they had been here, she had only checked up on Harry a couple times at night, and every time Harry had moved himself back to the floor under the bed. It really was a puzzling behaviour and one that she wished to fix.

Harry nodded and his eyes lowered slightly. He had seemed overly tired all day.

Hoppity patted his head one last time fondly and suddenly had the need to explain herself. "I'm sure you must be missing your m- whoever usually takes care of you so I'm trying to make it up for you." She said quietly.

"Mm-" Harry said tiredly, his eyelids drooping. "I don't miss them at all. You're much better."

Hoppity felt slightly apprehensive but masked it as she finished tucking the little boy and his dragon in.

"Good night Harry."

She found Snape downstairs in the kitchen nursing a cup of tea. "Severus, do you know who Harry usually lives with?"

Snape gave her a sideways glance. “Why do you ask?”

“Well... I’m not sure. Harry just acts differently than I would have expected for a little boy his age-“

“He’s not ‘a little boy’.” Snape said dismissively.

“Well maybe not a usual little boy but he has been saying some unusual things even for an unusual boy.”

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly not caring about what she was saying, but seemingly understanding what she was trying to get across. "You're imagining it. The boy is spoiled at school and needs some rough handling. If his relatives were strict with him than it would assuredly be beneficial.”

“Well I catch him under the bed every night! Sometimes after I tuck him in I check up on him and he’s back under it and he won’t explain why-“

Snape was just giving her a look that clearly said that he was humoring her by even listening to her but that he thought that her fears were unfounded.

“-and just tonight he said that I was a lot better than who he usually stays with and I know that I’m always doing a horrible job-“

Oh no. She was crying. But she couldn’t help it. She was never really good at anything and if Harry thought that her paltry attempts at making him feel loved were better than what he usually got then that poor boy…

“Stop. Potter is just a manipulative little brat. He was just trying to make you feel better or flatter you.”

“He’s not like that.”

“Potter most assuredly is.” Snape snapped.

“Harry. Call him Harry.” Hoppity said, sniffling and wiping the brief tears from her face. “What if you slip in public and call him ‘Potter’? I’m pretty sure that that part of his name isn’t on his new birth certificate.”

Snape said nothing, just sipped his tea, a bland expression on his face. It made her feel as if he knew something she didn’t.

“What? It can’t be!” She exclaimed, absently wiping her nose on a handkerchief from her pocket. Snape must just be trying to pull the wool over her eyes. But she wasn’t sure.

She’d check tonight just in case.

She picked up a cup to fix herself some tea and tentatively sent out a suggestion, “You should spend some time with him, get to know him better. He’s not really as you think he is.”

“Hm.” Snape said noncommittally.