Tea could be called torture when one was sitting at a table with a man obsessed with lemon drops. Albus Dumbledore was such man, and he was beaming at Snape as he sipped his tea.

“So Severus, are you telling me you want Harry to stay here for the summer, the whole summer?” the older man asked, setting his tea down.

Snape cringed, both at Dumbledore's indulgent smile and at the thought of what this all would mean. Did he actually want to commit to this? Potter had been a thorn in his side since the day he saw him in the great hall, a small skinny boy with messy hair and bright green eyes. And Madam Pomfrey was more than capable of tending the boy, she could fuss all she liked . . . Snape frowned. If Pomfrey tended to the boy, she would heal him as quickly as possible, and there was a chance the old lemon-drop-loving coot would send Harry back to those infernal muggles.

But why should he care? Snape mused while he drank his tea, trying not to meet Dumbledore’s eyes. The manor’s location was unknown, and all the wards and spells on the place made it so that no one, not even Voldemort himself, could come unless Snape wished it. So Harry would be quite safe and sound, tucked away to heal . . . but did Snape want his summer ruined with Potter being around? That was the real question.

“Severus?” Dumbledore prodded, his eyes twinkling over his tea cup.

There was something in the old man's look that made Snape feel very contrary, to the point that he wanted to yell "Potter be hanged!" But the meddling old coot knew that Snape wouldn’t allow Harry to go back to his uncle’s even though he hated the boy.

“There really isn’t another choice, is there, Albus?" Snape asked dryly. "If I do not take him, he will end up going back to his uncle’s. Despite the fact, of course, that his uncle raised a hand against the person he was supposed to be protecting.” Snape growled.

Albus clapped his hands and grinned at Snape.

"Severus, you really should take this chance to get to know Harry.” he was being entirely to cheerful.

Snape glared at his cup. There was no point in arguing; Dumbledore would go on forever about how Snape would like Harry once he got to know him, that the boy was really a good child, that nothing the boy did was his fault. Keeping Potter was one thing - listening to him being praised was another. Snape glanced up at the clock on the wall. Potter would most likely be waking up soon and get into trouble if left alone.

“Well Severus, if that is all we have to talk about, I’ll leave Harry in your very capable hands,” Albus said, rising. Snape rose as well.

“Just what am I supposed to tell Potter?” Snape said shortly.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled at him.

“Oh, well, I’m sure you’ll come up with something, Severus. You always do.”

Dumbledore walked from the room to step through the fireplace. Snape sighed, groaning as he watched Dumbledore vanish from sight. He stared into the green flames for a few minutes, wondering how in the world he had just been conned into babysitting the golden boy. For two months, no less! If ever black magic should be suspected! Growling, he shook his head and headed for the stairs.

Snape turned the corner and managed to get one foot on the stairs before something hard collided with him, knocking him to the ground. He glared at the teenager who had fallen back on the stairs, barely catching himself with his hands. Potter, it seemed, had discovered his wand and had gotten himself another pair of glasses.

Snape glared at him. “And just where do you think you are going?” he asked.

“Away from you! You keep pouring potions down my throat!” Harry scowled at him, pushing his new glasses up on his nose. His eyes were evasive, looking everywhere but at Snape. So the brat thought he would flee, the idiot!

Harry struggled to regain his footing, using the the banister to try to pull himself up, careful to avoid putting weight on his bad knee..

“Potter, you are really tying my patience. When I tell you to do something in this house, then that is what you shall do. No arguing, no complaining, no fussing,” Snape snapped. He reached down to grab Harry’s arm, but Harry yanked it free

“I don’t need your help,” Harry snarled.

Snape glared right back at him. “Well, if that is the case, then you won’t have a problem if I take you to Grimwauld Place and leave you. You can decide what you want to do there, all by yourself.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Fine by me!”

Snape growled and grabbed Harry’s arm and practically dragged him over to the fireplace.

“I’ll bring your trunk later.” Snape hissed at Harry and threw a handful of floo powder into the fire. It was all ridiculous as Harry was still wearing pale green pajamas with one leg rolled up off his injured knee. He was barefoot as Snape had not given him slipper or regular shoes. In fact, Snape had hidden all Harry's clothes, hoping that that would encourage the boy to stay in bed.

Harry stared at the flames as Snape started to push him towards it. Harry felt his chest tighten, and before he knew it, he was falling to the floor, shaking uncontrollably and choking back sobs. Everything hurt, everything throbbed, and he could not bear the thought of going back to Sirius's house, the house Sirius had hated.

Snape stared down at the boy, no emotion playing on his face though his mind reeled. Sighing, he knelt in front of Harry and carefully straightened his injured leg so as not to aggravate the knee. The boy looked cold; he might be fighting a fever. Bed was the only place Mr. Potter would be going, like it or not.

Snape rested a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Potter, calm down,” he said firmly.

But Harry continued to shake. He probably was thinking about his mutt of a godfather. But Snape knew better than to even mention Sirius’s name to him. Yet, the boy refused to calm down - he was still shaking, and if he cared on much longer, he would start to hyperventilate and have trouble breathing. Snape considered forcing the boy to drink another calming draught, but decided against it. Calming draughts just treated the symptoms, not the cause. If use too much, they dulled the senses, leaving patient dependent on them for fighting any emotion

Sighing, Snape tilted Harry’s chin so the boy was forced to look up at him.

“Harry, you need to calm now.” Snape said sternly.

Harry stared blankly at him then muttered, "Was my fault.”

Snape blinked and took a deep breath. So this was his summer, dealing with guilt and self-blame. Lovely. But he knew he was treading on thin ice with Harry, one wrong step and the boy would shatter.

“What was your fault?” Snape asked in a carefully neutral voice as if he did not know the answer.

Harry shook his head. “My fault that Sirius died, same as with Cedric.”

Snape inhaled sharply. Dumbledore was an idiot; he obviously wasn’t paying any attention to the boy. Time to deal with this once and for all.

“Harry, I want you to listen to me very carefully. Are you listening to me?” he asked.

Harry nodded though his eyes were glazed over slightly. Another bad sign, Snape noted. Once again he could very happily hex Dumbledore into next week.

“Listen very good because I am only going to say this once. It was not your fault.” Snape said slowly.

He looked at Harry who blinked at Snape. That blink could mean understanding or agreement or confusion or a number of infernal things. It probably wasn't over, but the boy had stopped shaking, and Snape knew when to count small blessings.

Snape slowly helped him back to his feet. Harry made it up, holding on the banister with one hand. He faced away from the stairs, looking as if he was going to hop towards the front door. Snape rolled his eyes - he could just see the boy trying to hop down the lane from the manor, all of the two miles to the gate that would lead to the road that ran fifteen miles to the nearest town. Potter wouldn't make it down the front steps in his condition. No, he was going back to bed right then.

Snape swept the boy up into his arms, one arm around his back and the other under his knees. Harry yelped, and instinctively grabbed onto Snape's shoulder to keep from falling out of his arms.

“What are you doing?” Harry demanded, aghast.

“I take it your little panic episode is over with, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked, stepping up the first stair.

“Put me down.” Harry snapped, letting go of his shoulder.

"You best hold on," Snape advised, his arms tightening around the thin boy. "You don't want me to drop you on the stairs and hurt your knee further," Snape smirked as he continued up the stairs. The boy wasn't nearly as heavy as he should be - he felt like skin and bones.

Harry glowered and grumbled, but he put both arms around Snape's neck and held on. As much as he hated being carried like a toddler, he did not want to be dropped and risk more injury to his bruises and knee.

"Good boy,” Snape observed as he entered the room Harry had spent the night in. The large bed was still unmade. One side clearly slowed that the boy had flung the cover aside to get out of bed; the other side held several extra pillows just encase Snape decided to strangle the brat.

“Just how long do you think you can keep me here?” Harry demanded as he was set down on the bed very gently. He quickly let go of Snape and tried to look very nonchalant about how he got to his bed.

Snape, the ugly git, seemed to be enjoying his annoyance to much. “Oh, only this entire summer, I imagine.”

Harry choked, his eyes going wide. “You’re joking,” he protested, desperately.

“Oh, no, I am afraid not. Dumbledore has already made the arrangements, and your relatives have been contacted as well. They all know you are . . . safe,” Snape said. The look on Harry’s face was priceless. The teen looked torn between laughing hysterically and yelling.

“Safe . . . I'm stuck here all summer?” he asked again, staring in shock at Snape. His bright green eyes pleaded with his professor to say it was a joke.

“What’s the matter, Potter, don’t like my company anymore?” Snape asked. He leaned over Harry to place a pillow under Harry’s injured knee. The boy jumped at his touch, which confirmed to Snape that the boy was far from calm. But Snape still lifted the leg gently and put the pillow under before lowering the leg. It was slightly swollen, but it did not seem any worse than last night. The boy was lucky he didn't fall coming down the stairs.

“I-I . . . you . . . but really . . ." Harry stammered helplessly.

Snape couldn't help smirking again as he arranged the pillows behind Harry and then gently pushed the teen to lean back against them. His untidy hair looked almost pitch black against the white pillows, and if it wasn't for the black, blue, and red bruises on his face, he would have looked very young indeed.

“My, aren’t we literate today, Mr. Potter,” Snape noted. Harry growled at Snape as the man causally pulled the blankets over Harry’s legs.

“I don’t want to spend my entire summer with you!” Harry yelled, not seeming to notice the Snape was tucking him in.

Snape grinned. “Oh, it won’t just be with me, I assure. I figured as you have already proved that since I cannot leave you alone unless you are asleep, I will have to have someone else here as well. At first I thought a nursemaid or nanny -" Harry looked livid -"but then I thought I could not bear a fussy old woman puttering around all summer. So instead, I plan to enlist Draco’s help to baby sit you,” Snape said. Harry looked like he was about to die.

“What?!” Harry shouted on the top of his lungs, rearing off the pillows and propping himself up on his elbows.

Snape sighed with satisfaction; perhaps the summer wasn’t a total loss. After all, he could devise many ways to make Potter’s life miserable. Well, all right, maybe not completely miserable, but Snape wanted to have a little fun. And who could blame him?

“Calm down, Mr. Potter, it is not the end of the world,” Snape was having trouble keeping a straight face at the look on Harry’s face.

“I’m fifteen years old. I do not need a babysitter.” Harry tried to sound very grown-up, but his statement came more of a horrified choke.

Snape raised an eyebrow as he slowly pushed Harry back down on the pillows. “With as much trouble as you get into at school? And after you have stayed here such a short time and already found ways to get yourself in trouble. You most certainly do need one.” Snape pulled the covers up over Harry's torso, relieved that the boy didn't try to fight his way up again. Harry seemed too mad to notice.

“I didn’t ask my uncle to hit me! It’s not like I said ‘Gee, Uncle Vernon, I’m bored - care to beat the crap out of me for fun?’” Harry yelled.

Snape looked down at him calmly. “You said it was a brick wall.”

Harry let out another scream from deep in his throat, causing the lights in the room the flicker. “I know what I said! So what? I lied! It doesn’t make a difference anyway. No one would listen to me because of the bloody wards!” Harry yelled.

Then he sat silently glaring at Snape. Snape was silent as well before he took out his wand and tapped the bed. Then he slid his wand away.

“Well, we can talk later. Right now you need to let yourself heal. Rest well, Mr. Potter.”

Snape turned and headed for the door. The growl from behind him told him the boy had already discovered what he had done. Smirking, Snape reached the door. He felt something connect with the back of his head. Just because the boy couldn't get out off the bed or even sit up didn't mean he couldn't throw things. Spinning around, Snape narrowed his eyes at the extra pillow that now lay directly at his feet. He raised his eyes just in time to have a pillow hit him square in his nose.

“Potter.” Snape growled in a warning tone of voice.

Harry glared at him, unable to lift his head off his pillow. “Cancel the spell,” Harry snapped, raising the last extra pillow.

Snape narrowed his eyes. “You do not want to be doing that, Mr. Potter. I have had enough of your nonsense for one day. Put that down and rest."

“Oh, yeah? Make me!" Harry challenged. But he did not throw the pillow.

Snape raised an eyebrow, picking up the other two pillows and tossed them back at Harry. Harry caught both on reflex and blinked as Snape silently left the room shutting the door.

“GET BACK IN HERE YOU GREASY GIT!! THE MAURDERS WERE RIGHT, YOU HAVE AN ABNORMALLY LARGE NOSE! UNDO THIS!!” Harry bellowed.

Snape leaned on the other door, smirking.

"You are welcomed to beat the bed all you like," he called out, knowing Harry could hear him. "You may fuss and scream all you like as I will be downstairs so I cannot hear you and any damage you do I can fix with a flick of my wand. So have your tantrum out, and then you can take a nap like a good boy, and I'll bring you some dinner later. If you don't howl too long, I might even let you feed yourself."

Harry let out another scream before he dropped his arms in defeat and stared at the closed door. He knew he could throw a huge tantrum, but glued to the bed there wasn't much he could do.

“Never cross a Slytherin, Mr. Potter. You should have learned that by now,” Snape commented. He smiled when silence came from the bedroom. He would have to see how soon Draco could come.