The next morning, Harry awoke feeling much better and though he still felt twinges of embarrassment when he recalled the way he'd gotten sick all over Severus like a baby, he had to admit that last night had been the catalyst in their relationship. The way his father had comforted and held him had finally caused Harry to trust the older man, and he was no longer fearful that Severus would revert back to the old bitter man he had been and treat Harry with condescension and resentment. Last night, Severus had behaved like a father, not the greasy git of the dungeons, for which Harry thanked Merlin, God, and whoever else was listening.

He smirked just thinking of how Ron would react to that bit of news, never mind the fact that Draco was now living in the same house as Harry. He wondered why he hadn't heard from either of his friends recently, perhaps they hadn't been able to locate him now that he lived at the manor? But Draco had managed to send a letter to Severus, so why couldn't Ron or Hermione? Sirius's lack of a response was disturbing too, and Harry was beginning to get more than a little irritated at his friends and godfather.

So what if Severus Snape was his father? The man wasn't evil, he risked himself daily as a spy and he had stood up for Harry when no one else cared to do so. He knew that Sirius still carried some resentment towards Snape from their school days, but surely he could let it die now, especially given what Severus had done for his son. He ought to be glad that I'm here, with someone who cares about me as more than a mere hero, who wants to protect me and who loves me for me, rather than stuck with the Dursleys, who hurt and abused me for years while Dumbledore watched and did nothing. And my mum loved Severus, so that should count for something. They were engaged, so it's not like she was cheating on James with Dad or anything. She would've married him if it hadn't been for his undercover work.

Sighing, he slid out from beneath the covers and padded across the hall to take a shower before Draco woke up and used up all the hot water. Harry was never going to take another cold shower as long as he lived, for that had been all he'd been allowed to have when he'd lived under Vernon's thumb.

So he luxuriated in the steamy water, soaking the warmth deep into his skin, allowing it to soothe the last of the weariness and stiffness from his body. Oh, but this was heaven! Almost all he ever longed for was right here, with decent plentiful meals, a parent to watch over him, and showers with endless hot water. The only thing missing were his friends.

He was jerked out of his reverie by a sharp pounding on the door, and Draco yelling, "Merlin, Snape, what'd you do, fall in and drown? Y'mind hurrying up in there, Princess Harriet? Some of us would like to use the facilities."

"Keep your shirt on, Draco!" Harry called back irritably, his fine mood ruined by the other's presence. "I'll be done in a second."

"You'd better be, and you had better not have used all the hot water, either."

Harry deliberated lingered a few minutes longer, wanting to tell Draco to shove it where the sun didn't shine. But he controlled that impulse by following Severus's advice and counting to twenty before replying.

"Harry! Merlin's bloody arse! Hurry up!"

Harry smirked for Draco sounded annoyed and desperate, and he quickly dried off and put on his clothes before at last unlocking the door.

"Finally!" snapped an irate Draco. "What happened? Couldn't stop admiring yourself in the mirror?"

"Hardly. That's your line, Draco. You're the prince of peacocks."

"And you're the king of imbeciles," sneered his cousin. Then he rushed quickly to use the toilet.

Now Harry felt a little guilty for taking his sweet time, he hadn't known Draco had to pee, otherwise he'd of been done fifteen minutes ago. "Sorry, I didn't know that you were so desperate," he said lamely.

Draco glared at him. "What part of "hurry up" don't you understand? I felt like I was gonna explode. Stupid Gryffindor!"

Harry bristled. "I'd rather be stupid than act like a snotnosed kid with a stick up my arse."

He turned to leave, only to have Draco nearly slam the door shut on his head. "Hey! Watch what the hell you're doing! You almost closed the door on my head!"

"Oh, was that your head there?" Draco asked innocently. "It's almost too big to fit through the door, Mr. Celebrity."

"Shove off, Malfoy. If your ego got any bigger you'd need half of Hogwarts to contain it." Harry snapped, rubbing his head, which had caught part of the door.

Draco sniggered. "What is it you Muggles always say? If you've got it, flaunt it? Now get out, Snape, and don't let the door hit you in the arse this time." He shut the door practically in Harry's face.

"I'd like to kick your arse, you miserable . . ." he trailed off, muttering several more uncomplimentary things about his unwanted cousin under his breath, recalling Severus's dictates about swearing.

He stalked towards the kitchen, only then remembering he hadn't fed Hedwig yet. He headed back into his room to make sure the bird was covered, drafts could kill her, and had fresh food and water.

It was then that a brown owl approached upon silent wings to deliver the mail. In her beak and talons were two letters, both for him, and one of the return addresses was from the Burrow and the other was Hermione's home address.

The letters brightened his mood considerable, he took them from the owl and fed it a treat and thanked it. Then, once he had tended to a sleepy Hedwig, leaving her cage door open so she was free to come and go as she pleased, he sat down to read his long-awaited mail.

Harry had to chuckle at that last. It would seem Mrs. Weasley used the same methods as Petunia to keep her kids in line.

At least Ron seemed okay with Harry's shocking news now. Bet his parents reamed his arse out though, Harry thought, knowing Ron's temper the way he did, he'd probably gone off the deep end when he first heard the news.

This letter had been dated August 10th though, a few days after he'd arrived at the manor. Harry wondered if he'd received it so late because of the time difference. Maybe that's what had happened to Sirius's letter too.

Well, Ron, you won't have to rescue me from my father, but I sure wish you were here to keep me from strangling Draco.

Ron would probably faint if he learned Draco was now a permanent member of the Snape household. Smirking, he set about penning a reply to Ron's letter, telling him about Draco.

After he'd finished bitching and moaning to Ron about Malfoy, he opened Hermione's letter. In her characteristic neat script, she had written:

Harry rolled his eyes. It was like Hermione to remark on how great it was to have the perfectionist teacher for a dad, because she was obsessed with learning. And to ask him about his marks on top of it! He had done well, all things considered, though he wondered if Severus knew about the D he'd gotten in History of Magic. If he did, he was taking it remarkably well, though Harry suspected his father didn't know, otherwise he'd have been giving Harry the lecture of the decade.

That was one of the drawbacks about having a parent, now he was answerable to someone besides himself, someone who would be able to issue punishments if Harry didn't meet his standards. Still, perhaps Hermione was right, and he could learn a great deal of useful information from the Potions Master.

Look at how he had improved Harry's penmanship and potions skills. Severus had even taught him some new defensive spells as well as a form of unarmed martial arts used by the fae called kin-sa-dor. Kin-sa-dor, literally shadow-feint-combat in High Court language, used the opponent's own body and strength against him, it was a graceful, subtle form of combat, one that relied more on speed and preciseness than strength. But a kin-sa-dor master was a deadly fighter if he wished to be, and could kill with a single jab of a finger.

Severus had been practicing the discipline for years, and while not yet a match for his half-fae instructor, who also happened to be a distant cousin, he was still very skilled and a competent instructor.

Harry was hoping to have another kin-sa-dor session today, after breakfast and chores. Severus usually held sessions twice a week, combining the martial arts instruction with DADA lessons. In a much better mood now than he had been earlier that morning, Harry sent replies off with Hedwig to his friends, then headed down to the kitchen for breakfast. He paused beside the large colored chart on the wall, checking his list of chores for the day. Severus usually gave him three additional chores to complete besides keeping his room neat and dusting.

Today his duties included being the dishwasher, sweeping the walks outside, and watering the flowers in the garden.

Harry's stomach growled, and he hoped Severus had made something substantial to eat, like pancakes and sausage, today. He continued into the kitchen, only to discover that this morning Severus had chosen to make oatmeal, not Harry's favorite breakfast food at all, since it tended to taste like paste half the time.

"Oatmeal, Dad?" he groaned.

Severus glanced up from where he was slicing bananas at the counter. "I thought after last night this would be easier on your stomach than something fried or drowned in syrup. Why? You don't like oatmeal?"

"Uh . . .not really. It always tastes like glue," Harry complained.

"That's because you don't know how to make it properly."

"Yeah, you've never tasted oatmeal like Uncle Sev's," said Draco, walking into the kitchen just in time to overhear Harry's last remark. "It actually tastes good, not like that gross gunk they serve at school."

Harry looked at the bowl of steaming porridge in the middle of the table dubiously.

"Here," Severus dished his son up a portion when it became obvious Harry wasn't going to try it on his own. The Potions Master added a spoonful of brown sugar, a bit of cream, a few banana slices and topped it off with a handful of chopped walnuts. He set it in front of Harry and said, "Try it." Then he turned to his godson. "Draco. Sit and eat, you can study the chart afterwards."

Draco came to sit down, serving himself a large portion of oatmeal with everything on it. He began eating hungrily, as did Severus.

Harry tentatively took a spoonful and discovered that far from being disgusting and bland, the oatmeal tasted delicious. It was nutty and slightly sweet, the bananas were the perfect compliment to it and Harry found himself eagerly spooning it down his throat.

"This is really good," he muttered, forgetting he had a mouthful of oatmeal.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, boy," Severus reprimanded. "You ought to have learned proper table manners by now, Harry Snape."

Harry flushed, embarrassed at being scolded like a toddler, and Draco sniggered, clearly delighted to see his rival called to account by his stern teacher for his sloppy table manners.

Harry shot the Slytherin a glare that could've scorched his skin off, then resumed eating silently, making sure to chew and swallow before opening his mouth again.

Severus then set a glass of red juice in front of Harry instead of his usual milk or pumpkin juice. "What's this?" he queried.

"Pomegranate and cranberry juice. It has essential anti-oxidants and vitamins you need."

Harry eyed the juice warily, unsure if he wanted to sample yet another new thing. "Why can't I just have pumpkin juice?"

"It's not as healthy for you," Severus replied crisply. "Just drink it, Harry. It won't kill you."

"Merlin, but you sure are a picky eater. No wonder you're vitamin deficient," Draco commented sneakily. "Sorry we don't have caviar to serve you, Your Highness."

Before Harry could respond to that taunt, Severus cut in, saying silkily, "Draco, how would you like to do all your chores plus Harry's for that comment?"

"No, sir! I'll be good, I promise!"

"Then might I tell you to watch your mouth and think about what you say before you say it," growled the professor. "Harry's vitamin deficiency had nothing to do with his eating habits."

"What does it have to do with, then?" asked Draco curiously.

"None of your business, Malfoy!" Harry snapped, taking the glass of juice and sipping at it.

"Settle down, the pair of you!" barked their father. "Draco, Harry's reason for taking a Nutrient Potion is something he must choose to share with you, it is a private matter. After breakfast, once you've finished your chores, you may come and find me and we can have a quick lesson on brewing a Deflating Draft."

"Then can we have Defense, Dad?" asked Harry eagerly. " I want to practice some more kin-sa-dor."

"You're teaching him kin-sa-dor too, Uncle Sev?" cried Draco, dismayed. "But you told me that you could only teach it to family members."

"Draco-" began Snape, only to be interrupted by Harry.

"Hello? What do you think I am? The light's on but there's nobody home, huh, Draco?"

Now it was Draco's turn to go red and flustered. "Shut up! Just . . . shut up, you dungbeetle."

Severus slammed his hand down on the table, making them jump. "One more snide comment out of you two and you'll be scrubbing the kitchen floor with a toothbrush. Quit this petty bickering."

"Sorry, sir," Harry apologized.

"Sorry, Uncle Severus," Draco echoed.

"I don't need apologies, boys. I need you to change your attitude right now. Otherwise you'll both be very sorry," Severus warned. Yes, it was definitely time to turn the clock back and give the boys and himself time to adjust to their new roles. Otherwise one of them was going to commit murder.

Harry bit his lip and slowly counted to twenty. He resolved to just pretend Draco didn't exist for the rest of the afternoon, and so avoid a quarrel altogether. That tactic worked until they had their potions lab together, and Draco commented on how pitiful most of the Gryffindors were at making potions, especially that great pudding, Longbottom.

"His mum must've dropped him on the head as a baby or something, because he still can't manage to brew a simple Boil Cure without melting a cauldron," snickered Draco. "What an idiot!" He began to carefully stir his potion.

"You're one to talk, Draco, considering who you hang out with. Crabbe and Goyle aren't the sharpest knives in the drawer either. It's like being next to Dumb and Dumber. Is that why you're friends with them, so you can look like you're a genius, Malfoy?" Harry demanded, compelled to come to Neville's defense.

"Bugger off, Harry!" hissed Draco, looking quickly around for Snape. But the Potions Master had departed to fetch some more ingredients and so missed their entire conversation-lucky for them. "I'm friends with them because that's how my father wanted it."

"You always let your dad pick your friends?"

Draco glared at the other boy, not wanting to discuss that particular subject. "Mind your own business, Snape. And watch your cauldron, the mixture's supposed to simmer, not become a blackened mess."

Harry turned back to his cauldron and muttered a spell to lower the fire. It was almost too late, the mixture was a thick, unpleasant looking gray. "Why the hell didn't you warn me sooner, Malfoy?"

Draco shrugged. "How was I supposed to know you needed a warning for something so obvious? Am I your keeper now, Harry?"

Harry angrily turned back and tried to salvage his potion, calling Draco every bad word he knew in his head. Sodding great prat! He just wanted Harry to fail so Severus would yell at him again and show the professor that Draco was the better potions student. "At least I don't have to cheat to get good marks," he snarled, stirring frantically.

"What are you talking about? I never cheat!"

"Says who?" laughed Harry.

"Me. You're the one who's hopeless, Harry."

"Like hell I am. You've sabotaged half my potions ever since I started going to Hogwarts, you conniving little sneak!" shouted Harry, coming around his cauldron to glare right into Draco's face. "You just couldn't bear a Gryffindor getting points over a Slytherin in potions, could you? Or are you going to tell me your daddy told you to do that too? And you just obeyed him, like a good little boy, didn't you, Draco darling?"

"You're delusional, batty as old Binns, Potter," sneered Draco, his gray eyes smoldering. "You don't know a damn thing about my life, so why don't you take your theories and stick them up your-"

"Enough!" snarled a steely voice behind them.

Both boys froze, then turned slowly to face a very irate Potions Master.

"I warned you, gentlemen, what would happen if you continued this senseless bickering." Severus snapped his fingers and a large bucket of soapy water appeared on the floor, along with two toothbrushes. "Start scrubbing, gentlemen."

"B-but Uncle Sev, he started it!" Draco sputtered, pointing an accusing finger at Harry.

"The floor, Mr. Malfoy." One finger stabbed down at the stone floor. "Now."

"You never said we'd have to scrub the dungeon, sir," Draco protested stubbornly. "You said it was the kitchen."

"I changed my mind," Severus said silkily, glaring right at Draco. "Keep backtalking me, mister, and you'll be scrubbing this entire manor with the damn toothbrush. Now do as your told." He took a step forward, his face forbidding as stone, and Draco immediately dropped to his knees and snatched up the toothbrush.

Harry was already scrubbing, knowing better than to argue once Snape's mind was made up.

Severus watched them for a moment, then banished the contents of their cauldrons. "An entire afternoon's worth of potions ingredients wasted because you felt like squabbling instead of working. Disgraceful! I'm taking it out of your allowance this week, and you can re-do this lab tomorrow-as partners."

Harry and Draco exchanged horrified glances. Partners? That was just too cruel.

"This dungeon better be spotless when I return, boys." Snape said frostily. "Or else you can do it over again after supper." Then he shut the door hard, disgusted at their infantile behavior.

And that incident was just the beginning.

From that afternoon on, war was declared between the two apprentice wizards, as each tried to one-up the other one. Each did their best to make the other look bad in front of Severus, whose patience was fast wearing thin with all of their wrangling. By the time two weeks had gone by, both boys had managed to get the other extra chores, lines, a three-foot essay on discipline and respect, twenty minutes in a corner, and two minutes with a bar of soap for continuous name-calling.

Each time they were punished, their behavior would alter for a time, but eventually they would backslide to their old ways, until it seemed that the only way the two would get along would be if Severus knocked their heads together. It was an option the frustrated Potions Master was considering very seriously, when the final straw occurred one sunny afternoon.

For once, both boys had managed to stay out of trouble and earn themselves an afternoon of free time, and Harry had been itching to try out a new Quidditch move Ron had told him about last term called the Wronski Feint. He took his Firebolt and began to practice, totally ignoring Draco, who was playing with a Snitch on the other side of the manor, hoping the blond would take the hint and leave.

No such luck.

No sooner had Harry begun to practice, the Slytherin flew over to him and challenged him to a race.

"Later. I'm busy." Harry said shortly, concentrating on his turns.

"Sure you are. Busy trying to make an ass out of yourself," mocked Draco. "Give it up, Snape. You'll never be as good as Krum. You don't have what it takes to be a professional Seeker."

"Oh, right. Like you would know."

"I've been watching Quidditch since I could talk, and I know more about it than you ever will. Now what do you say to a race? Winner gets to order the loser about for a day."

Harry hesitated. The idea of letting Draco order him about for a day didn't hold any appeal for him. Then again, he knew he was a better flyer than the blond wizard, so he should have nothing to worry about. He also had the better broom. Not even the Nimbus 2001 could match the Firebolt for sheer acceleration and speed.

"Fine. Hope you're prepared to do some major sucking up, Malfoy," Harry agreed.

"That's what you think, Snape. I'm gonna make you polish all my shoes with a toothbrush. And call me Master Draco, just like a house elf." Draco threatened, mounting his broom.

"You wish, Malfoy. You'll be eating my dust." Harry mounted his own broom, then kicked off in a roar of displaced air. "Where does the race end?"

Draco pointed to a large fir tree over on the far side of the Prince land. "There. Still game?"

"You bet your pureblood arse I am." Harry crouched over his broom.

"Ready. Set. Go!" Draco shouted and urged his Nimbus into full flight.

Harry had already taken his Firebolt halfway across the sky by the time Draco was a quarter length behind him. He was grinning in sheer delight, the wind in his ears was the sweetest music imaginable.

Furious, Draco decided to take steps to prevent his rival from winning. Instead of trying to race Harry on a straight path, Draco decided to use a short cut. He knew he could shave off three minutes by taking the shorter route through the apple orchard.

The only problem was that Harry reached the same point in the path as Draco did, and couldn't stop in time to avoid Draco. The two crashed into each other with a resounding THUD!

Both of them nearly fell off their brooms and Harry immediately began accusing Draco of trying to cheat. "What do you call that, Malfoy? You almost got us killed!"

"It's called a shortcut, in case you've never heard the term before, Snape. What's the matter? Didn't have those where you came from?"

"Shortcut my arse! You were trying to cheat and you know it."

"Ha! Like I need to cheat to beat you. You couldn't fly your way out of a parchment sack. That Firebolt's wasted on you, Hopeless." Draco snorted, using the nickname he'd coined for Harry the day of the disastrous potions lab.

"I'm twenty times the flyer you are, Malfoy, and you know it. Otherwise you wouldn't need to cheat in order to win."

"Up yours, Snape!" Draco had landed now and was gazing at Harry with undisguised antipathy. "Every time one of you Gryffindors is losing, you cry foul and say we cheated. Well, not this time. Nobody ever said I couldn't use the shortcut, now quit whining and accept it."

"Cheating little git!" Harry cried, then he shoved Draco hard.

The blond was caught off-guard and landed on the ground with a thump. "Filthy Mudblood lover!" spat the irate pureblood. He was on his feet almost immediately, fists lifted. He swung a quick right cross at Harry's head.

Harry ducked, only to get a punch in the jaw when Draco brought his other hand into play. Shaking his head to clear it, he sprang at Draco, bearing him to the ground and then pounding the daylights out of him.

He had just bloodied the Slytherin's perfect nose when Draco retaliated with some moves he'd picked up from kin-sa-dor, kicking Harry hard in the stomach and knocking him backwards.

Harry managed to reduce the shock of impact by rolling on the ground, then he was up and swinging.

Draco feinted right, then left, and caught Harry in the eye with a well-timed right cross. "Now maybe you'll see things my way, Snape!"

Harry tackled him about the legs, knocking him backwards , and Draco nearly hit his head on the trunk of an oak tree. The blond cursed Harry softly, rubbing the back of his head. Then he came up and slammed Harry against the ground so hard that Harry's front tooth cut into his bottom lip.

Blood trickled down his lip as Harry spat into the grass and kicked out with a foot, catching Draco painfully on the knee.

Draco yelped loudly, feeling his knee begin to swell. He promptly rabbit-punched Harry in the ribs.

Harry gasped, but he'd been pounded on before by Dudley and could take a great deal of punishment. Draco's punch was painful, but not as bad as he'd hoped and Harry grabbed two fistfuls of Draco's collar and proceeded to bash the Slytherin's head back against the ground.

It was anyone's guess who would have won, for at that precise moment, a hand reached out and yanked Harry off of Draco and held him suspended in mid-air. Then Draco was dragged up from the ground as well to hang opposite his rival, and the pair of them swallowed hard and turned to gaze up at a very furious pair of obsidian eyes.

Severus had come out to investigate and he was most displeased at finding his son and his ward trying their best to smear the other all over the ground.

"That does it!" Severus snarled, his patience evaporating. "I have had it up to here with you two squabbling like two jealous dogs over a damn bone. I gave you plenty of chances to modify your behavior and still you persist in this endless feud. Well, no more! You've broken your word to me for the last time."

He set the boys down briefly, just long enough to give first one and then the other a resounding smack on the rear. Then he tossed both of his rebellious sons over a shoulder, ignoring their protests, and marched back inside the manor, his jaw clenched.

Merlin help me, Harry thought, hanging upside down over Snape's shoulder like a sack of turnips. I am so dead. Sick with shame and not a little fear, he gulped and wondered if he was going to have a whole skin left when his father got through with him.