Ron was sitting on the littered beach of an unknown river in a crowded and quaint little town. He had folded his left leg in front of him and was sitting with his chin on the knee of his right leg. A small boy was sitting in front of him. He had the most startling clear green eyes and the messiest hair that Ron had ever seen. The boy's uncombed, black hair stuck out in all directions from under an equally dirty, backwards worn cap.

Both, Ron and the boy, were busy heaping some more sand on Ron's right foot.

"Well, how much time more do we keep up with this?" Ron asked the boy, patting the sand to set it down.

"It is supposed to set in, you know," the boy gave the same answer for the nth time. "The sand should fill in all the small spaces in between. It should be absolutely compact so that the sand does not get any space to move and fall when you remove your foot."

Ron flicked a glance at the boy, whom the Professor had introduced to Ron as Harry Potter. Ron would have flatly refused to believe it, had it not been for the famous lightning bolt-shaped scar on the boy's forehead.

The-Boy-Who-Lived was supposed to be strong and big and a hero dressed in fancy, sparkling new red and gold robes with lots of elves and people all around him, bending to all his whims and fancies. He was supposed to have flying ponies and flying carpets and the best and the latest brooms in the market, lots of chocolates and jokes and magical toys.

This boy, although the same age as Ron, was smaller than his little sister Ginny and his big, round, black-rimmed glasses made his face look even smaller. He wore t-shirts and shorts and a cap that was always askew and his clothes could not be dirtier if he rolled in the mud. Well, to be fair, they were always spic and span when he wore them in the morning but would get dirty quicker than even the twins' clothes got dirty. He lived alone with the Professor with not even a ghoul in the attic or gnomes in the garden for company, and Ron had yet to see any elf, though Harry had told him that Nifsy came in every day in the morning to help in the garden and Dilly came once every week to help with cleaning the house. There were no flying carpets or ponies, or for that matter, even a flying broom in the house that Ron had seen.

"I think you can remove your foot now," Harry whispered to Ron. "Slowly. You must not let the sand know that you are going to pull your foot out."

Ron looked at Harry as if he had gone mad. "Sand can't hear you, Harry."

"How do you know? May be, it can."

"No, it can't!" Ron insisted. To prove his point, Ron announced loudly and clearly, "I am now about to take my foot out of the heap of sand."

He started to pull out his foot slowly, oh-so-carefully, holding his breath. Harry held his breath as well. Ron's foot was now 3 quarters in the clear and then, after a moment, it was out completely.

"We did it!" Harry exulted jumping up and throwing his arms up in victory.

Ron beamed.

There was a small hollow under the heaped sand now, where Ron's foot had been. The structure looked like a small over bridge.

"We can dig in a canal under it and fill it with water, you know," Ron said.

"Like a moat around a castle?" Harry asked, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

"Yeah, that would be cool, wouldn't it?"

"Alright, let's do it," Harry replied, slumping back down on the sand. Both the boys took positions on either side of the bridge and started digging a narrow canal to pass under the bridge.

Ron put his right foot's toe under the bridge carefully and tried to scrounge some sand out.

"Ssss..," Ron hissed, freezing when his foot hit a side of the bridge. Harry froze as well, breath held in. When the bridge did not fall down, both the boys looked at each other and let out a breath slowly.

"I think you should do it with your hand," Harry advised gravely, once again in a whisper.

Ron held his right leg with both his hands and carefully, dragged out his toe, taking care not to hit the sand-bridge again. When his foot was safely out, he looked up at Harry and grinned.

Harry grinned back and both the boys went back to work, digging a canal from under the bridge.

Ron put in his right hand next and tried to dig using his fingers but his knuckles kept hitting the bridge and some sand would fall off.

"Let me do it before you knock the entire structure down," Harry spoke up suddenly.

"No, I can do it," Ron replied. This was important work and he was the one who had had his foot under all that itchy sand for the bridge. Well, plain and simple, he wanted to do it.

"You keep hitting the bridge," Harry argued.

"No, I don't. The sand keeps falling down on its own. It has to. It's not going to remain stuck there forever, hanging from the belly of the bridge."

"Belly of the bridge?" That was funny.

"Well, yeah. Doesn't it look like the bridge was kneeling down on the ground?"

"And when the bridge is drawn up, it actually stands back up?" Harry replied.

Ron looked up at Harry and both the boys smiled.

"Exactly."

"If you don't let me do it though, the bridge would soon have collapsed flat on its belly, tired of waiting for us to complete our castle."

"Why don't you complete the rest of the canal? Dig a circle and start with the castle placed in the centre?" Ron suggested instead.

Harry did not like the boy's obstinacy but decided to concede for now.

"Ok."

Ron set back on digging his canal with a satisfied smile. Harry, in the meantime, started with the castle. He brought in handfuls of sand, cupped in his palms and dumped it behind the bridge. Once he had had a good amount of sand dumped, he started to shape the heap into a hollow cylindrical shape.

"Your castle is going to be smaller than my bridge with so little sand."

"No, it won't. I'll get more sand, and it's not your bridge. It's ours'."

"Well, it was made on my foot and I'm the one digging the canal under it."

"I am the one who had the idea in the first place. I am the one who taught you how to build it and anyway, what is your bridge going to protect without the castle? If the castle is mine, the bridge has to be mine," Harry pointed out, indignant.

"Maybe, I've won the bridge over so now you're under a siege in the castle," Ron replied.

"My castle has other ways to get out other than your stupid over bridge which can't even be drawn up. It's got tunnels and secret paths that come out on the other side of the river. So, we can get as much food, clothes, chocolates, milk and bombs to keep us going forever. Who needs the stupid bridge?" Harry could feel his anger simmering within him.

"My bridge is so much higher than your castle that we can bomb and destroy your castle just standing here on the bridge. What will you do with your tunnels then if there's no castle?"

"Your bridge is so weak that it's going to fall the moment someone stands on it. It's about to collapse any moment."

"No, it's not. It is strong and you're just upset because it's the only way out of your dumb castle and I own it. So, I own your castle as well."

"We would destroy the bridge before anyone could attack from the bridge. Let's see how strong it is." With that, Harry angrily swiped his hand at the sand bridge, which promptly collapsed.

"There goes your bridge. Not so strong after all," he taunted a shocked Ron.

"How dare you?" Ron screamed and pushing Harry to the ground, he destroyed the half made castle.

Harry got back up and gripped Ron's shirt to pull him forward and push his face into the sand but Ron had anticipated the move and ducking, pushed Harry sideway. Harry did not relinquish his hold on Ron's shirt and both the boys went down sideways, tumbling in the sand and throwing punches, kicks and sand at each other without restraint.

Ron did not have five older brothers for nothing. He had a far longer experience of such roughhousing than Harry, who mostly preferred defensive tactics to straight out attacking. Soon, Ron was sitting on top of Harry. He plucked off Harry's glasses and threw them away but seeing the brief opening, Harry covered Ron's face with his hand and scratched with all his might.

"Arghh!" Ron shrieked, "You scratched me."

Harry threw Ron off himself and shouted, "You hid by bose a-b-d th-ew abay by gladded!"

Ron stilled for a moment, recognising from the nasal tone that Harry's nose had some problem. It was bleeding a little.

"You nose is bleeding. You need to get home," he said, worried a little about the injury.

"Whad do you cade?" Harry replied hotly.

"I just don't want to get into any trouble for hurting the precious little boy-who-lived," Ron replied nastily.

Harry scowled and pushing Ron half-heartedly one final time, got up. He picked up his shoes and put them on. They prickled due to the sand stuck on his feet but he stalked off with them on his feet and his bleeding and broken nose up in the air.

Ron looked on at the boy's retreating shape silently and sullenly. He was going to get it when he returned to the house. Why should he return anyway? Who the hell was Snape? He just wanted to go back home. His eyes teared up as he looked forlornly into the wilderness on the other side of the river.

By the time Harry had reached home, his entire face was scrunched up in an attempt to not scrunch it up and cause more pain. He had covered his face by his one hand. Once he had been clear of Ron's line of sight, he had taken off his shoes, picked them up in his other hand and taken off at full speed. Soon, he realized that it hurt more when running so he began to walk. But a couple of worried and stunned glances thrown at him on the short stretch of street to home had sent him running one again. He really did not want to stop and explain or be subjected to muggle methods right now. He just wanted his Uncle right now. He would right his nose in a jiffy. He was trying to come up with a good story that led up to the broken nose. His Uncle was not going to be happy but at least he would heal his nose and the pain would be gone.

By the time Harry had reached home, Ron had fallen deep into depression over the state of affairs that he was in.

Earlier last week, his twin brothers had got hold of some muggle gunpowder and mixed it with some floo powder and gnome bogies (or so they claimed) to get some extremely explosive mixture. They had waited till the Burrow was empty when their mother had taken Ron and Ginny along for grocery shopping and then, they set the mixture off.

Their Mum had been hysterically worried when they returned after a couple of hours to find the entire Burrow – not there. There was nothing there – no house, no yard, no back garden, not even any gnomes. Nothing but a big, fat empty space that looked very… empty… without the Burrow and smelled like floo powder.

Ginny giggled and asked Mum if she had forgotten her way home while Ron panicked that the quidditch poster and bat that his dad had got him just last Christmas were gone too.

Their mother immediately picked both of them up and took off to the Ministry. She called upon the aurors and his father to notify them of the problem. She then left Ron and Ginny off at Aunt Muriel's, where Ron and Ginny remained for two whole days during which Ginny had cried and cried, Aunt Muriel had scolded and scolded and Terry, her equally crazy cat, had almost scratched Ginny when she had tried to pet her. Ron had somehow pushed the cat away at the last instant and that had set Aunt Muriel off – cruelty on animals! He had just been protecting Ginny, who, instead of explaining it to Aunt Muriel, had cried even louder.

His Dad returned on the third day and took both of them along with Aunt Muriel to 'Endeavour Research & Healing Centre'. Ron had never been to any hospital other than the St. Mungo's but realised very soon that this was not a regular hospital. It was extremely big and located on an island. Dad told them that the entire island was used for various research centres and healing facilities. They portkeyed to a building and were provided with a flying vehicle to take them to the Special Healers' section. The vehicle had nice seats from which you could dangle your legs into the air below. It had no top but it never got too windy despite the speed at which they were moving.

"Look Dad! It's Burrow!" Ginny cried out.

There it was - a little skewed but Burrow nonetheless, complete with its garden and gnomes and the swings in the backyard and Dad's tools shed and Mum's pumpkin patch. It was perched below, sitting there, looking lost amidst the urban buildings and carefully landscaped surroundings.

"Yes, Princess. We have got it back."

"Back from where?" Ron had asked.

"Wherever your brothers had managed to squeeze it to."

"What do you mean? Fred and George had made the entire Burrow disappear?"

Their Dad sighed and said, "They behaved extremely foolish, mixing up potent powders that they had no knowledge about and then exploding the mixture. The expert researchers' team here was somehow able to get them back from the intra-space that they had reached and only because of your mother's timely action to report this to the aurors and the Department of Mysteries. The house is still reeling under some strange effects, as are your brothers. You will see them in a minute. Here we are."

Ron and Ginny had innumerable questions but an attendant came forward and guided them to a room, all the time telling their Dad about how the twins had got a little better.

Ginny rushed straight into her mother's arms to bawl her eyes out the moment they stepped inside the hospital room while Ron stared at the bed that their mother was sitting besides. It had a life-size picture of Fred in it.

"Oh Ginny, Ron! Are the two of you all right? I am so sorry, my dears, that I had to drop both of you off at Aunt Muriel's like that. I hope you behaved well. Well, you can see your brothers," Mum said, waving her arms on both sides of herself. Her eyes were wet.

"Molly, Molly, you must not." Dad shushed her.

Lying on the other side of Mom, on another bed, was a life-size cutout picture of George. The picture George moved his arms and Ron jumped.

He came to understand later that their brothers had been squeezed, literally, in the space between the spaces, which was used to floo/apparate/portkey and in general, travel by magical means. They had been flattened, completely, just like Burrow. The house had progressed much better than Fred and George who seemed to have inhaled quite a lot of the powder.

Portions of their internal organs were still suspended in the space between the spaces. The experimenters were still getting them. They would have to remain at the facility until it was done. The scientists were using his parents' magic to find the left behind organs, hook them and reel them in. The twins were not 11 years old yet and their own magic was not strong enough to do it.

His Mother had to stay in the facility all the time and Ginny refused to leave Mum, shrieking like a banshee the moment anyone other than Mum tried to hold her. Finally, the Hospital Administration had agreed to let her stay since she was not 8 yet.

Bill, Charlie and Percy were off at Hogwarts. That left Ron and Dad had arranged for Ron to stay with the head of the Research Centre, Professor Snape, for the summer since Uncle Bilius and Aunt Muriel were too old to take care of a 9-year old.

Ron hated it. Why could Ginny stay but not he? No. He had to be sent away to live in a big old house on the side of a dirty river in a stupid muggle town. He hated it.

After healing Harry and managing to get the entire story out of him, Snape looked at the Wall-Clock. It was ten minutes to 7pm. Harry had been home for quarter of an hour already. Enough time for the other boy to cool off. Snape really needed to have a talk with him. The boy had been sulking since the day, two days back, when he had stepped into this house. He did not like the food, the linens, the room that he had to share with Harry, books, toys or anything else in the house or the garden. Snape knew that the problem lay somewhere else.

Snape took in a full breath and looking down at Harry's dirty clothes, shook his head. At least the sand was all gone after the Evanesco. Beach was not a safe place for small children. Snape hoped that the boy had enough sense to not venture near the river.

"Come along, Harry," Snape said moving to the back door.

"Where to?"

"Wherever you left Mr Weasley. He might be as injured as you are, Harry. I also need to talk to you once again about this entire situation."

"I did not leave him. He just did not come back with me."

"Do not try my patience any more, Harry." Snape stood at the back door, locking it. "Mr Weasley is a guest. His brothers are seriously unwell and his house has been destroyed in a single act of reckless and senseless behaviour that has left his family pretty much homeless. Instead of making him welcome in your home and extending every courtesy to him, you go about tumbling in the dirty, unhygienic sands that I have told you innumerable times not to go to.

Do you know how many rules have you broken today?

You were on the riverside when you clearly know that it is off limits. Not only did you go yourself, but you also lured Mr Weasley with you. You put both of yourselves into danger.

Then, you got into a fistfight with him, aggravating an already upset boy to the extent that he actually decided to hit you." Snape held up his hand to stop Harry from launching into the same explanation once again. He continued, "And what was your choice of weapons? You entered a fight that you could not have ever won. He is at least 4 inches taller than you and bigger. As a result, you got hurt, broke a nose while by your admission, he is relatively unscathed, at least physically.

Fourthly, you left the boy, a guest, alone in a place that he had not been to before this time. What if he gets lost? What if he was really injured and you did not see that in your rush to get back home and get your nose fixed?

On top of it all, you are standing here, arguing with me that you are not at any fault?"

"I am sorry," Harry replied, feeling extremely guilty.

"Come here immediately."

This time, Harry obeyed without a word.

Picking up Harry, Snape turned on his heel to disapparate to the river beach.

"There he is," Harry exclaimed, pointing to a lone small figure sitting dangerously close to the bank.

Snape once again turned on his heel with Harry still in his arms. Ronald jumped at the sound of 'pop' but scowled immediately when he saw Snape and Harry, who had immediately squirmed out of Snape's arms to stand on his own.

The boy looked roughhoused, yes and had a few scrapes but was otherwise, unharmed. Snape took in a deep breath to quell the growing anger at finding the boy so close to the river and held out a hand, simply. Ronald looked at the hand and then, with a snort looked away.

Snape's eyebrows furrowed.

"Mr Weasley, I believe that it is time it go back home."

"It is not my home."

"For this summer at least, I believe that it is."

"No, it is not. My home is Burrow and if you want to take me home, you should take me to the Burrow."

Snape prayed for patience to whatever God there was for dealing with 9-year old Weasleys : surely, there was one, given that there were so many of them around always. Then, he answered very slowly,

"You know it as well as me, Ronald, that the Burrow is not inhabitable right now. It should be fine by the end of the summer, though, as should your brothers." Snape said slowly.

"My name is Ron," replied Ron just as slowly, "and you can always leave me with Mum at the hospital. I can stay there like Ginny. I don't want to stay with you."

A flash of anger crossed Snape's face, gripping him the moment Ron mimicked him and then leaving with equal alacrity when Harry, who had been standing a little apart and looking at the scene unfolding before him with wide eyes, gripped Snape's hand with his smaller fingers.

He is just a child, Snape reminded himself about Ron – a child who is acting out at what he perceives to be abandonment by his parents. A stupid concept when you were the youngest son of Molly and Arthur Weasley but well, he had seen it before with Harry when he had brought Harry to live with him some four years back.

He forced himself to take a more gentle voice.

"It is unfortunate that the accident has made it impossible for you to stay with your mother all the time. I realise that you must be finding it even unfair that you have to stay away from your parents, share your room with a stranger, in the house of someone you hardly know, in a muggle town with hardly any wizards around – the list can go on and on, I am sure – all this while your eldest three brothers are at Hogwarts and your younger sister is with your mother. It's not even your fault that this happened."

The boy swiped his face with his hand to brush off the tears that had rolled onto his cheeks.

"Unfortunately, Ron, life never turns out as you want it to. It's nothing but fickle caprice by another name."

Ron blinked.

"I mean that life is unfair and unpredictable." Waxing poetic in front of 9-year old boys on their way to uphold their long-standing family tradition by sorting into Gryffindor was certainly not done. "Your father tells me that you are a great chess player. Is that true?"

"So?" Ron replied brazenly.

Snape forced himself to stay calm. "You must be planning your next move and the move after that and so on hoping to ensnare your opponent in some manoeuvre. You lay out a trap for him, hoping he would fall into it and build the rest of your plan based on it. Am I right?"

"Yes."

"Now, if the player you are playing against, does not take the bait and fall into the trap, or manages to pull you into a trap of his own, what do you do? Do you start ranting and railing that you are not in the position that you had hoped to be, that the game is unfair because the other player did not move according to your plans and hopes?"

"Of course not," Ron replied indignantly.

"So what do you do?"

"I look for a new plan."

"Very well said. You look for a new plan that utilises the chess pieces, your resources, to the best of your ability to create a new plan. Scolding those pieces who got killed will not help you, as much as you might wish to tell off the twin bishops who decided to make their own move, ignoring your instructions."

Ron just looked confused now.

"Think about it. If you could continuously evaluate your position and change your plans according to the new situation in chess, you could do the same now. This is not what you planned to do in your summer but here is where you are now. Use the resources available to you to make the best plan instead of sulking over what your other plan could be. Can you do that?"

"But I am not playing chess," Ron answered, completely boggled by what Professor Snape was saying.

Snape stopped. How could someone be that dense – the boy had the intellect of a, of a … - Snape caught Harry looking at him with the same lost expression that Ron had in his eyes and deflated - … 9 year old. The boy had the intellect of a 9-year old, which he was and Snape had foolishly been going on and on about the metaphor of chess for life. The blame lay at Snape's feet, not the boy's.

Ron shook his head, as if to clear his mind of whatever the Professor had garbled – about chess and life and old plans and new plans.

"I don't care," he said. "I just wish that I were at Hogwarts too, like Bill and Charlie and Percy. All of this is because of Fred and George, and I am the one who is paying for it while they left me here with you and you're so mean."

"My Uncle's not mean," Harry, who had been standing aside silently up till then, shouted out in defence of Snape. "You're the one who is always sulking and pouting like a baby."

"I am a baby? Is that why your nose was all bleeding by just one punch from me?"

"It was not!" Harry replied hotly, rushing to hit the arrogant little boy once again.

"Harry!" Snape immediately caught him by his middle and admonished him immediately. "What did I tell you about fist-fighting just ten minutes ago?"

"Yeah, better listen to your Uncle. Both of us know that you hit worse than girls – maybe, like baby girls. Even little Ginny hits better than you." Ron taunted.

"Let go of me!" Harry twisted and turned but Snape did not relinquish his hold around Harry's stomach.

"That is enough, both of you!"

"I hate both of you. I don't want to stay with you. In fact, I don't want to go to Dad either. They don't love me. Why should I go to them?"

"All right, then," Snape answered, gritting his teeth. "We will make a small boat for you and once it is made, we will bundle all your clothes in your bed sheet and then you can steal out of the house in the middle of night with your little bundle hung on your shoulder. You would have to start hoarding a little food everyday from now onwards and stash it in a jumper. Once you have enough food and your canoe is ready, you can row away in your canoe. What do you think?"

Ron looked at the man in front of him in open-mouthed shock before getting feeling a deep set frustration overtake him at not being taken seriously. He turned around sharply and started to walk away, his nose raised high.

"No, I am serious," Snape called back in a very serious voice. "If you must run away, which seems to be the best solution in the circumstances since you neither wish to stay here, nor with your parents and Hogwarts would not accept you for another two years at the very least … so, if you must run away, you should at least do it with full preparedness. Your father tells me that you are very good at Chess. From one Slytherin to another tactician and strategist – this would be the least expected from you."

"I am not a Slytherin, I am going to be a Gryffindor!"

"Of course you are," Snape replied dryly. "That is why you are thinking of running away, are you not? A Slytherin would have made the best use of the given resources and seen how to gain from this. As a Gryffindor, you would run away but add just the dash of style and recklessness in it to convert it into a grand adventure. Never mind that finally it was just running away."

"I am not going to run away," Ron replied.

"Are you sure? It sounds quite adventurous to me – travelling all alone with hardly any money and strangers all around you. Oh, you must learn to escape from grindylows though, if you are planning to row away in a boat. They love to eat little boys. And undines – they love to kidnap little boys since they have none of their own. You could even write a book about it – 'The adventures of Ronald-berry Weasley'.

If, on the other hand, you plan to take the road or sky, you must be wary of strangers. Little boys' innards are rare to come these days and the potions that could be made with their toes! I should know. It is so difficult to get them for my lab. Beware of people who offer you food. They drug little boys and take out their eyes to use for the all seeing eyes."

"All-seeing eyes are not made from little boys' eyes. You're lying." Ron asserted.

"Of course they are. Little boys are so curious. They are always doing things that they should not and looking into places that are forbidden. Their eyes are forever roving and so form a very good base for the little spying devices like all-seeing-eyes."

"I don't believe you." Ron knew that Professor Snape was bluffing.

"Well, I just wanted to warn you because you are in my care right now. If you do decide to run away, you might want to remember that."

"I am not scared of your stories," Ron replied, not as sure of himself as before.

"Of course not. You are, a Gryffindor, after all, about to run away." Snape smirked.

Ron huffed and once again turned to stalk off to the house as regally as he could while trying to stay close to the Professor. Snape followed him with Harry's hand held firmly in his own.

"Is it really true, Uncle?" Harry whispered to Snape, tugging his hand.

Snape looked down and replied, still smirking, "What do you think?"

Harry looked at him for a minute before declaring loudly, "Bah! You are bullshitting!" and before Snape could land a smack on his backside for his language, he escaped Snape's hold and ran forward to Ron shouting, "Ron, he's bullshitting!"

Ron looked back with wide eyes, his ire forgotten at Harry's blatant use of bad language. Harry caught up with Ron and once again said, "He's bullshitting, Ron."

"I know," Ron replied wondering whether to join Harry in irritating Snape or distance himself from the punishment that was sure to follow this display. He suddenly remembered that he was going to be in Gryffindor so replied, "Of course, he is bullshitting. I'm not a baby to fall for such stories. Even Ginny's smarter than that."

"Not smart enough, though, to keep your mouth shut even when you know that it is going to land you in trouble," Snape replied, catching up with them. He reached down and gathering both the squealing boys in his arms, disapparated to their home.

Before either of them could even take a bearing of their surroundings, they had each got one sound smack across their bottoms.

"I am sorry, I am sorry. I was just having fun." Harry squealed as he squeezed out of Snape's hold and ran to the sofa.

Ron was still in Snape's hold, though and was scared that he was getting to get more smacks but Snape just lifted him up and dumped him on the sofa besides Harry.

Even before Ron's heartbeat could slow down and he could change his startled expression to look bored, Snape had waved his wand and every particle of sand in Ron's clothes had gone rushing out to collect and form a small sandy hand. Ron's look of amazement was short-lived, however, as the hand promptly proceeded to box Ron's ears before disappearing. Scowling fiercely, Ron looked up to find Snape staring at both of them with an extremely displeased expression.

"I believe," the man started in a voice that had not been raised even the slightest bit, "that the two of you have earned yourselves a slew of chores today. Before I even start with them, I would like you to go and get cleaned up, starting with you, Ron."

"Why me? He can go first." Ron immediately countered.

"You would be going first because I had already cleaned up Harry a little when he came back with a bleeding nose and surely, you recognise that getting to take a bath before Harry can soil the bathroom is the better option?"

Well, yes, that was true but why would the Professor favour Ron over his nephew?

"You are a guest in this house and regardless of your behaviour and actions, we would continue to extend some courtsey to you," Snape answered his unasked question.

Ron just nodded and left the room. Snape yanked Harry from the sofa and busied himself in cleaning up the sofa on which both the boys had been seated. Once done, he eyed Harry and performed the same spell as he had done on Ron. Harry, wizened up to the boxing-ears gimmick, ducked immediately to the side only to get the same boxing from Snape himself. A snicker sounded from the first floor and Snape looked up with a raised eyebrow at Ron, who was on his way to the bathroom with his change of clothes. Ron immediately went into the bathroom, trying but failing to suppress his mirth while Harry scowled and folding his arms, slumped back into the sofa.

The bathroom door closed with a small click and Snape looked at his sullen-faced charge before sitting down beside him.

"Harry, we need to have a talk, a very serious talk."

Harry did not reply. He was not happy with the ear-boxing thing in front of Ron.

"I do believe that we already have a long enough list of misdemeanours, disobedience and what not, for you to wish to add to it," Harry's Uncle reminded him silkily.

Well, putting it that way made it sound a little too bad. He had just had a little fight and anyway, it had all been Ron's fault. He was always so sullen and angry. He was the one who had been behaving like he owned the bridge while Harry had given the idea, piled the sand and told him the technique. All Ron had done was to sit there and pat the sand.

Harry did not dare to ignore the tone that his uncle was taking, though. So he turned around.

Snape sighed. With such attitude, it was going to take some time to get through to Harry. Snape called on the reserves of patience within him and started,

"I have said this before and I am repeating this. Mr Weasley is our guest and you must give him due consideration. His home was destroyed by the two thoughtless and reckless boys that he has as his brothers. They blew up their house and they are extremely ill right now, in great pain, with missing parts scattered in some intra-space. Do you remember how painful breaking your nose was? Can you imagine how much worse it must be for them, with so many parts of their body broken? They are constantly under sedation – drugged to sleep like state – to keep them from feeling the pain. Their mother and father have to stay at the hospital to help the healers and other researchers to latch on to the parts and then reattach them to the boys. Their house is destroyed and under repair.

Because of this, Mr Weasley had to come to stay here. Can you imagine how he must be feeling to have lost his house, with no idea of when he would be able to return to it? He is living away from his entire family, in this new place for the first time. Do you remember the time when you came to live with me? He feels as if his parents have abandoned him, sent him away because they do not love him or because he is not good enough. Instead of fighting with him, you should reassure him that he is a great friend. Instead of antagonising him, you should try and make him feel welcome in your house, to feel at home here."

Harry nodded silently, thinking over whatever his Uncle was telling him. So, Ron's parents had sent him away because they could not keep him in the hospital with them, unlike his younger sister. That is why he was always so mad. He remembered how lonely he used to feel when Snape had got him here from his Aunt's place four years back back. Uncle Severus loved him much more than Aunt Petunia or any of the Dursleys but he had still wanted to go back to his Aunt. He would not go back there or anywhere else now for all the candies and the best of brooms in the world. He loved his home here with Uncle Severus. But at that time, he had been miserable. May be Ron just needed to know how great this place was and then he would not miss his family as much.

"Do you understand, Harry?"

Harry nodded once again.

"So, can you promise to try to be more accommodating to him?"

Harry nodded once again.

Snape looked at his boy for a moment before deciding to move on to the next topic.

"Alright. What we are left with now, is a list of transgressions. We would go over them once both of you have had your baths." Snape said in answer.

Upstairs, the bathroom's door opened and Snape got up, pulling Harry up as well. "Off you go. Send Mr. Weasley down."

"And no running," Snape reminded Harry just as he was about to break into a trot.

"I'm not running!" Harry replied indignantly.

"That's good."

Snape watched Harry climb up to the first floor. He then went into the kitchen to make himself a good cup of coffee. He had not had a moment's rest since returning home that evening. His coffee was just done when he heard someone stomping down the stairs. He scowled and was extremely tempted to unleash his irritation at the boy but controlled his impulse. He took a deep breath and walked out of the kitchen into the drawing room, where Mr Weasley was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.

"Come here, Mr Weasley, and take a seat."

Ron quietly did so. He just wanted to get this over with. Despite his outward show of defiance, he was a little apprehensive how this strict and scary looking man with piercing black eyes would punish him.

Snape observed the boy's defensive stance and started after a moment's hesitation.

"Ron, do you know why you are here?"

Ron scowled. Of course, he knew. "Because no one loves me."

"Indeed? Perhaps, you could give the alternatives to sending you here?"

Ron blinked.

"Alternatives – other options, other plans that your parents could have come up with instead of sending you here, had they loved you."

"I could have stayed with Mum like Ginny."

"Hmm… Do you know that you would have still had to stay away during the times when she would be helping your idiot twin brothers?"

"Why? Ginny is still there."

"Do you know why children are allowed into Hogwarts only after the age of 11?"

"They have classes only from the fifth grade."

"Yes, but someone really smart could join it earlier, right?"

"I suppose so." Ron shrugged, not sure where they were going with this.

"Magic in children develops gradually. In the first few years, it is aligned with their mother's magic. This means that their magic is a lot like their mother's magic. As they grow older, the magic begins to take a more individualistic and unique personality. It becomes stronger, gets its own shades and gradually develops into an entity unique to that individual. Ginny is a small child whose magic is not so developed that it could interfere with her mother's but you are older and stronger. Your magic is more advanced. It can have a mind of its own and refuse to go along and do whatever your mother wishes for it to do. As you will grow up, you will become stronger and so will your magic. By the age of 11, your magic will reach a stage where it will be strong enough on its own to be trained. By 17, you would have learned to control it, manipulate it to work aligned with your parents or anyone else and finely tune it to suit your requirements, if you are not the dunderhead that your twin brothers are."

Despite himself, Ron was a little mad at having to hear his brothers called names. There was something as family pride.

"They're not dunderheads!"

"I am glad to see family loyalty still alive in you. Now, do you understand why you are here while your itsy-bitsy little sister is at your Mum's side?"

"Because I'm stronger?" Ron asked hesitantly.

Snape wanted to hit his head at the over simplification despite the long lecture. The boy was going to be in Gryffindor, undoubtedly, with his panache for dramatics and complete lack of understanding for anything subtle. This was why he was not teaching young children. Thank Merlin that this was not his responsibility.

"Yes," he replied, fighting to keep sarcasm out of his voice, "because you are stronger than your sister, and older, and more mature. Your mother is counting on you to be the brave one, unlike little Ginerva, who spends her days holding onto your Mum's frock with one hand and her plush doll in the other. Unlike her, you are bigger and can hold your own against anyone. You are not easily frightened or reduced to tears. You can take care of yourself but your Mum did not want to saddle you with a crying little baby. She wanted you to have fun like your older brothers are having at Hogwarts, away from all the problems."

"But I can help Mum if I am stronger."

Snape knew that he had laid it on a little too thick. Back to square one.

"You are helping, by not hanging on to your mother like your sister. Your father wants you to go to the muggle school and learn a few muggle things to teach him."

"Teach Dad?"

"Yes, he is really hopeful that you would be able to learn all about telephones and electricity and automobiles and how they work – become an engineer, you know, in a couple of months." No sarcasm, no sarcasm, keep your face straight, Snape chanted to himself.

"What is an ege-neer?"

"Engineer." Snape decided to go out and award himself with a night out soon enough for his patience. "One who builds muggle things."

Ron nodded his head emphatically. He was going to go to school and learn all this and become the eg-neer thing. When he went back after a month, he could teach his Dad how to use all those plugs in his Dad's collection and make eklektricty and drive a muggle car. His Dad would be proud of him.

"In the meanwhile, we still have punishments pending from your day today."

"Punishment?"

"Surely you didn't think that indulging in fisticuffs, hitting someone so badly that his nose starts to bleed or staying out for long after the time that you should be back, showing attitude when I talk to you or using bag language – all of these were going unnoticed?"

"But, I'm a guest here."

"So you are and therefore expected to behave respectfully to your hosts," Snape replied smoothly.

"So, I should have just sat there and let Harry destroy my bridge?"

"Hey, that was not your bridge. It was as much mine as yours." Harry had just returned from his bath and had heard this. He was not going to let Ron get his way while he was away.

"No, it was not. It was my foot, my bridge."

"It was my idea. I was the one who taught you how to build it and I also helped in building it. You were just sitting there with your foot under it."

"Well, it was a lot of work sitting there while you slooooowly brought in sand to pile on the bridge. I sat there for ages with my foot itching under it, waiting and waiting for you."

"That just proves that I did more work than you. I-"

"That is enough!" Snape thumped the centre table with his right hand, making both the boys jump. "The two of you made a bridge that Ron claimed as his own while Harry thought that it belonged to both of you. Do the two of you agreed on this?"

"Yes, but-"

Snape had a palm up in the air and the expression on his face silenced any protests.

"Mr. Weasley, I would have hoped that you would know and be able to teach to Harry the value of sharing, seeing as he is the only boy here and therefore, not required to share his things. I am extremely disappointed in you.

And Harry, having a stake, even equal stake, in something does not give you the right to destroy it. If both of you built it, both of you had a right to it and you can not destroy the joint property, something that had someone else's labour in it as well. This is the typical behaviour of selfish brats who decide that if they cannot have something, they would not allow anyone else to have it either. It is like Dudley, who would have rather broken his toys than given them to you. I am not raising you to be a Dudley, am I?"

"No, but he-"

"Regardless of what the other person did, each one of you is responsible for your own reactions to the situation. Harry, you did not have to destroy the property. You behaved worse than I ever expected you to and Ronald, you should not have hit Harry. That is bullying. I am certain that your parents are not looking forward to a bully in the family. Do you wish to grow up to be someone who beats up his peers?"

Snape looked at the two boys standing in front of him, both of them looking extremely ashamed.

"Grindelwald, Voldemort, the death eaters – all of these were bullies – people who would destroy something if not given to them, people who would kill others if they did not listen and agree to them. Are you planning to grow up to become them or, to become someone brave like the Potters and Prewetts, someone intelligent like Sevina Britfield, who invented broomsticks, someone as loved and respected as Albus Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley,..."

Ron's eyes shone with pride at his father's name.

"….someone as steadfast and dependable as Brian Wester?" Snape continued.

"The Irish keeper?" Ron asked excitedly.

Snape nodded and Ron immediately gushed before Snape could carry on with his lecture, "He is the best keeper there is. Have you seen the speed with which he flies in hid double eight loop? Not one goal was scored against him in the European Cup. If they're able to get a good seeker, Ireland are sure to win the World Cup this time. No other player is required other than Wester at the goals and a seeker catching the snitch."

O God of Weasley children, please help me.

"That is very good, Mr. Weasley. You surely know your quidditch."

Ron beamed while Harry looked at him, open-mouthed.

"As I was saying, if you want to be like these people, you must stop squabbling and hitting each other and taking out your frustrations and anger upon others. You must learn to share and think about others, put yourselves in their shoes and walk a mile, understand what they are going through, empathise."

Both the boys were looking at Snape with uncomprehending, wide-eyes. Snape sighed. Time to revert back to 9-year-old Weasley-speak.

"This, however, is not all. I had told you, Harry to never go near the river without me. Not only did you go there, you also took a friend and endangered him, then left him alone on a deserted beach. Mr Weasley, you in turn, did not even think it required to accompany an injured friend to home. You let him come alone, with a broken and bleeding nose while you preferred to stay there and sulk. The least I would have expected from the children of Gryffindors is to show some loyalty to your friend or companion and help them out; not act without a thought to the other's safety." Well, not really. He always expected Gryffindors to act without a care to anyone's safety.

"On top of all this, both of you used bad language on your way home."

Both the boys hung their heads down and waited for the pronouncement.

"I believe that a week without deserts, cleaning all the window panes and dusting the entire house daily for a week should be good. Now, you should both apologise to each other."

Snape took in a breath of relief as he saw both of them turn to each other and mumble a sorry.

"Now, back to your room till dinner. I want you, Harry, to read the next chapter in Herbology and Mr Weasley, you could start with the first chapter of 'Magical Creatures'. Harry, give him the book and a notebook. I do not want any more disturbances today. I will go, start on the dinner."

Snape swept out of the room with one final glance at the two boys, his coffee forgotten.