For several moments, Dumbledore’s departure appeared to have a stunning effect on the two that were left in the room. Snape was the first to recover and immediately went to the front of the room where the trunk was, opened it and began rummaging around.

Harry followed him and asked, “What did he mean by giving us the opportunity to settle our differences?”

“He meant exactly what he said,” snarled Snape, reading the letter that he had just found in the trunk. “It appears that, Potter, the Headmaster considered our ‘disagreements’ counterproductive to the cause against the Dark Lord. We are condemned to spend time in each other’s company in this room until we have resolved those disagreements.”

“But he can’t do that…” started Harry.

“He did. It would also appear that our supplies are limited to those in the trunk and no further supplies will be given if we are unable to set aside our differences. Not to mention Dumbledore has put a spell to limiting our magical abilities.” interrupted Snape coolly. “Therefore, Potter, I suggest that you go through the contents of the trunk and see what supplies the Headmaster has given us.”

Sullenly, Harry knelt beside the trunk and began pulling out all the items laying them on the floor. Meanwhile, Snape stood behind Harry, overseeing the items that had come out of the trunk: food, water, sleeping bags, some spare robes, and a portable bathing room.

“Professor Dumbledore really thought of every thing didn’t he?” Harry said wryly.

“The Headmaster takes pride in being prepared and rising to the occasion.” Snape said curtly. “Now, Potter, you are old enough to amuse yourself. Do so.” Without another glance at Harry, Snape sat down at the teacher’s desk and resumed reading.

Harry fought the urge to curse Snape into the next dimension. As much as he admired Dumbledore, Harry seriously doubted the Headmaster’s wisdom in this endeavor. After all, it was Snape who started this generation feud in the first place. If Snape had not intentionally pick on him from day one, they would not be locked in a classroom with nothing else but a trunk of supplies and each other for company.

Harry, accepting the fact that they were stuck in here till Dumbledore releases them, decided to make the classroom more habitable. Once opening the package, Harry saw that the bathing room was like the tents he stayed during the Quidditch World Cup, which looked small from the outside, but inside was a fully equipped bathing room.

After placing the rest of their supplies conveniently around the room, Harry decided to try out their bathing room. He took one of the spare robes that Dumbledore supplied and filled the tub with hot water. Before coming to Hogwarts he never had the chance to soak in the bath for as long he liked, therefore he took full advantage whenever the opportunity presented itself. Feeling extremely relaxed even though he was stuck in the same room with Snape, Harry slowly drifted off into sleep.

Harry jousted out of his slumber when suddenly he felt someone or something yank his arm. Turning his head, he saw that Snape was standing beside tub glaring at him. But before Harry to ask what he was doing there, Snape spoke, “If you are going to fall asleep, Potter. Pick a location where you are not likely to kill yourself.” and strolled out of the bathing room.

Harry got out of the tub as soon as Snape was out of the bathing room and dressed in the spare robe that he brought along. He wiped his glasses dry using a towel and went back to the classroom. He was surprised to see that the lights have been dimmed and one of the desks had been transformed into a camp bed and a sleeping bag was already on it. Harry glanced at Snape who was now reading his book under a lamp. Going to a desk where he placed some water bottles earlier, Harry opened one and drank thirstily.

“There is nothing else you could do here, Potter. Go to sleep.” came Snape’s voice.

For once, Harry did not argue with Snape. It had been a long day and being told that he was going to be stuck in the same room as Snape had been draining on his nerves. But there was still a thought that was nagging him, and Harry could not sleep without getting to the bottom of it.

“Er.. Professor, why were you in the bathing room?” asked Harry.

Without even sparing a glance at the boy, Snape replied, “You stayed in there for a very long time, Mr. Potter. Your head was about to go underwater. If I had not gone in when I did, you would have undoubtedly drowned.”

“Oh, I see.” Harry said and snuggled into the sleeping bag.

Snape was about to return to his reading when he heard very faintly, “Thanks professor.”

Harry opened his eyes and reached out to grab his glasses. But when his hand failed to make contact with his bed curtains, the events of last night came rolling back. He quickly put on his glasses, looked around, saw Snape slumbering in a chair, and realized that it was not a dream. He was stuck in a classroom with Snape until Dumbledore decides to let them out.

Hearing movement, Snape roused out of sleep and mentally prepared himself to spend a whole day in the company of Harry Potter. Unlike Harry, Snape had purposely chosen to sleep in a chair as to remind himself of the task that Dumbledore had set him.

“Since you are awake, we might as well eat and think up a method which will satisfy the Headmaster and allow us to return to our lives.” Snape said to Harry.

Seeing that there was no other choice, Harry nodded his consent and went to the desk where he had put the food containers and began exploring their contents. Harry bit back a cry of dismay when he opened all the containers and discovered that instead of ready to eat items, everything that Dumbledore had supplied was raw.

“What is the matter, Potter? Aren’t those the food containers?” asked Snape coming over to see what was taking Harry so long.

“He has got to be joking.” muttered Snape when his cooking spells failed to work. “First, he confines me to spend time with Potter, and now he expects me to cook like a muggle!” Turning to Harry, he saw that the boy was looking at him to dictate their next course of action.

Cursing Dumbledore under his breath, Snape abruptly turned and walked threateningly towards the trunk. Kicking it open, he found that someone had placed muggle cooking utensils and a note some time last night.

‘Dear Severus, Harry,

I forgot to mention that you will have to do your own cooking. Bon appetite.
Albus Dumbledore’

Harry, who had followed Snape, looked into the trunk and remarked wryly, “I guess we will have to cook our own meals.”

Without a word, Snape turned on his heels and strolled purposefully towards the door. Raising his fist, Snape pounded on the door and yelled, “DUMBLEDORE!! I know you are listening outside. LET ME OUT AT ONCE!”

Snape continued to pound on the door and cursing Dumbledore with complete disregard for the age of his audience. Only when his pounding and cursing did not produce any visible response from anyone or anything that Snape dropped to the ground and glared at the door instead.

“It’s no use, Professor.” said Harry coming up from behind him holding a plate. “You know he can be very stubborn.”

Snape did not require elaboration on who ‘he’ was. Now with the smell of food under his nose, Snape heard his stomach grumbling. He took the plate from Harry without a nod of thanks and got up to look for a fork. Snape took his plate and went back to the teacher’s desk and sat down, stabbing his fork into the bacon and eggs and shoving them into his mouth. Snape finished his breakfast and took his plate to the back of the room where Harry had set up as a makeshift kitchen.

“I am surprised that you know how to cook, Potter.” said Snape placing his plate into the bucket of water where Harry had placed the dirty dishes to soak.

Harry shrugged as he organized the cooking utensils. “I had to learn when I was living with the Dursleys. They made me do all the housework and a lot of the cooking before I came here. Scourgify” Harry explained pointing his wand at the bucket. Harry went to the bucket and began taking out the clean dishes and placed them on a desk awaiting their next meal. Turning around, Harry saw that Snape was looking at him.

“What? I didn’t have the dream life as a celebrity you believe me to have.” Harry said bitterly. “When my parents died, I got dumped with my mom’s sister and her family.” Not caring whether Snape was listening to his story or not, Harry continued, “I was my cousin’s punching bag for the first eleven years of my life. They hated and feared magic you know. So whenever unexplainable things happened around them, I was to blame. They locked me in the stairs under the cupboard when I was younger and later in my room.”

Harry glanced around the classroom with a faraway look in his eyes. “It was only when I came to Hogwarts that I was allowed to eat as much as I want and meet people who actually cared about me.” Harry trailed off, wondering why he was telling Snape, of all people, about his childhood.

“What made you think I was interested in knowing about the sordid details of your life, Potter?” Snape asked.

Harry shrugged and said, “You’re not telling me shut up about it either. I don’t talk about those years to everyone I meet. Not even Sirius knew how bad it was.”

Snape was taken back when Harry told him about his childhood. Surely Dumbledore would have explained the circumstances which brought Harry to his aunt and uncle. Under normal circumstances, people would be overjoyed to be given the honour of raising a hero. The fact that Harry had confide in him, rather than his godfather, about his childhood gave Snape an unfamiliar feeling inside.

“Now that we are done listening to the story of your life, I suggest you tidy up this place.” Snape said nodding his head towards the unmade camp bed. Not waiting to see if Harry followed his instructions, Snape turned and headed into the bathing room.

“Are you sure that this is a good idea, Albus?” asked Professor McGonagall peering into the mirror that was showing the image of the classroom which Snape and Harry were locked in. “I do not see how locking two very stubborn people in the same room for three days would improve their relationship.”

“That is the point Minerva.” Dumbledore said smilingly. “Having those two in close proximity of each other with no outside influence would certainly force them face each other.”

Professor McGonagall groaned and muttered, “I hope they won’t kill each other first.”

“Take heart, Minerva,” Dumbledore said patting her hand, “everything will turn out alright. You’ll see.”