H.P.

He hadn't wanted to tell Snape anything the night before but at least he hadn't told him the real reason he'd freaked out. Remus had completely the wrong end of the stick; the Dursleys didn't like him but it wasn't that big of a deal. He'd dealt with Voldemort twice since starting Hogwarts, and he'd killed a basilisk, for Merlin's sake. If he could handle all that then he could handle a few muggles.

He sighed and wandered in to the kitchen to see Snape waiting for him. Normally, he had his nose buried in the paper or a potions journal.

"Morning, sir," he said warily.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. I trust you remember that we start your remedial potions today."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied glumly, dropping heavily into a chair and toying with his cereal.

"You need to be ready at nine o'clock and waiting in the living room. You can use ingredients from my stores for now, so just bring your cauldron and textbook," Snape ordered, then disappeared behind the Daily Prophet. Though why he bothered reading it at all was a mystery when every time he did he would snort derisively or mutter angrily about the state of the Ministry and the ridiculous writers employed by the paper.

When Harry finished, he made to leave the room, but before he reached the door Snape called out. "Your broom is in the living room. Put it away, please."

"You're giving it back?" Harry asked incredulously. He'd said he would but Harry had half expected him to find some other reason to confiscate it before the day was through.

"You're giving it back, sir," Snape repeated, narrowing his eyes.

"You're giving it back, sir?"

"I told you that I was confiscating it until you told me the truth and I believe that we covered that yesterday." Snape turned his attention back to his newspaper.

"Oh. Cool! I mean uh, thanks, Professor," Harry replied.

As nine o'clock rolled approached his good mood faded. He didn't even need to do extra potions work. He wasn't any worse than anyone else and no one else was doing extra work in the holidays. The reason he wasn't doing any better was that Snape always graded him unfairly and constantly breathed down his neck. Now that he was having one-on-one tuition with the man it was only going to get worse.

Then again, Snape was being better towards him. He wasn't constantly putting him down and he did just give back his Firebolt. 

"You have everything?" Snape asked.

"Uh, yeah, I think so."

"Follow me."

Snape led the way back to their usual classroom. Snape banished the majority of the workstations to the sides of the room so that only one remained, directly opposite the teacher's desk.

"You will be re-brewing the potions we covered this year until you can complete them to my satisfaction. I expect you to read the passage in the textbook before you attend class, you can do that before you start today, then gather your ingredients and begin. After each class I would like you to write about any mistakes you made and why they occurred as well as any improvements you could make to your work. You can hand that in to me in your next lesson. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Harry replied evenly, despite his irritation. He was practically doing the whole potions course again and for no reason. Not to mention that the man was giving him homework as well. it was bad enough that he had to do these lessons at all.

Snape continued, oblivious to Harry's rapidly deteriorating mood. "Today you will be brewing a shrinking solution. Start by reading the textbook."

Snape busied himself with his own work while Harry flipped through the pages of his textbook. He didn't even need to read it; he could remember that lesson well enough. He'd had to help Malfoy with his ingredients, despite the fact that Malfoy's injury had been faked, and Snape had tried to poison Neville's toad, Trevor. That lesson he hadn't even brewed the potion badly. It hadn't been perfect but it was okay.

He grabbed the ingredients and set up his cauldron. The quicker he got this over with the better. Then he could go flying for the afternoon.

"Stop mutilating those roots, Potter," Snape growled as Harry chopped the daisy roots roughly. He hadn't realised that he had been taking his anger out on the roots so obviously, but just glared at Snape as his teacher vanished them and replaced them with a new, uncut set of daisy roots. "Start them again and stop with the attitude, boy."

"Don't call me that," Harry snapped, the word 'boy' getting under his skin. His uncle called him that, like he was worthless, like he was nothing at all to them.

"Don't push your luck, Potter. You had better calm down and think before you speak," Snape hissed. The silent 'or else' quite obvious and Harry could see nothing but the teacher who revelled in humiliating him at every opportunity and who had hated him from the moment he laid eyes on him. 

S.S.

Severus watched covertly as the angry teen continued to treat his ingredients as if they themselves had personally insulted him. Did the blasted child not realise why they were even there? Unless he had some secret desire to continue with these lessons for the rest of the holiday, which he was certain he did not, the child was making, if possible, less effort than usual.

He had decided to make a conscious effort with Potter to take into account his treatment at the hands of his relatives. It had been hard for him to see that he was the same child who he had sought to save once Potter had come to live in his quarters. All he could see was his father and his habit of breaking the rules laid down to protect him.

He had not foreseen how much of a challenge this would be. He'd imagined now that he'd had this revelation of sorts it would be easy. After all, over the last couple of weeks the boy's behaviour had steadily improved, but yet again the boy was trying his temper.

Potter's anger at being referred to as 'boy' was curious. He'd spoken his surname with more venom in the past and insulted him with far more cruel and imaginative adjectives without eliciting that strong a reaction. He'd have to watch him closely.

H.P.

Harry continued the potion in absolute silence, his previous good mood having completely evaporated. When he was just finishing up, Snape sneered down at his cauldron.

"What do you call this, Potter?"

"Shrinking solution, sir," Harry replied through gritted teeth.

"If you believe that then you have both sabotaged your potion and failed to read your textbook. Is that the case?"

"No," Harry ground out.

"No, sir," Snape corrected.

Harry remained defiantly silent. Any thoughts about how his teacher's behaviour towards him had improved had disappeared from his mind as he stared down the Potions Master.

"I warned you, Potter. You're grounded for the rest of the day."

Harry made to leave the room but Snape stopped him. "These lessons will be continuing every day until you've completed the course. If you wish to have any free time this summer then I suggest you think very carefully about your attitude."

Harry gathered his cauldron and left without a word, slamming the door shut behind him.

He wasn't going to put up with this. Snape was just doing this to torment him. He had spent every potions lesson for the last three years putting him down and now he got to do it all summer.

S.S.

The potions lessons continued in the same vein as the days went by. The tense atmosphere was not merely confined to the potions classroom. What small steps forward they had taken were entirely erased. If he'd thought he'd seen defiant and obstinate before then he was sorely mistaken. It seemed as though the child thought he had some sort of point to make. He did everything in a stony silence, and when he was spoken to he stared defiantly back. Severus was fast losing his patience. 

"Potter, stir it clockwise, not anti-clockwise. Did you even bother to read the instructions?"

"Yes."

"Yes, sir," Severus corrected.

"Sure," Potter shrugged.

"Don't you dare, Potter. I'm growing tired of this attitude," he growled, looming over him. Potter pointedly ignored him and resumed stirring his cauldron.

"Potter!" Severus snapped, not accustomed to being ignored, nor willing to tolerate the boy's obvious disrespect.

"What?" he replied insolently.

Severus tried to contain the urge to throttle the infuriating child. Potter had changed since they started the remedial potions lessons but he had no idea what had caused such a regression in his attitude.

"Looks like you've lost your free time again. Get out of my sight."

Things came to a head the third potion lesson that week.

"What is this?" Severus asked, looking down at the cauldron in disgust. It wasn't a terrible attempt at the potion but if the boy would stop taking his adolescent tantrum out on the assignment he would have done a lot better, and Severus was in no mood to take any prisoners.

"A boil cure potion. You set it at the start of the lesson, sir," Potter responded, staring past his potions teacher, barely suppressing the frustration in his voice.

"It is much too thick to be a boil cure potion. It looks like this will be another fail for you." 

"What a surprise," Potter muttered to himself, clearing away his equipment.

"What did you say?"

"I said 'what a surprise'. As if it would be anything other than a fail!" 

"If you make an actual effort perhaps you could brew a passable potion."

"I do make an effort," Potter replied defensively.

"You'll have to work as hard as everyone else. Your fame makes you no exception with me. I will not give a passing grade when you fail to read instructions, chop your ingredients haphazardly and pay so little attention that you've allowed it to cool before stirring." 

"No exception?" Potter laughed, although it was clear he found no humour in it. "I am the exception with you. What about our first ever lesson?"

"If you had opened a book before turning up to my class the questions would not have been a problem," Severus replied angrily. He knew exactly what lesson the boy meant. How he'd longed for an opportunity to put him in his place, looking so much like his father but with her eyes.

"No one else knew the answers apart from Hermione and you didn't even want to listen to her."

"If you do not do the reading then you deserve to be called out for it. You cannot brew a potion without bothering to read about it's ingredients." It was a weak justification. It had been an easy way to put him in his place, and to let him know that he wasn't a celebrity in his classroom. 

Potter scoffed and spoke in a much quieter voice, filled with anger. "You hated me the moment you laid eyes on me, what did I do to deserve that?"

There was silence. Potter was vulnerable and Severus had made a commitment to take it into account, to see more than the child's father or his sheer obstinance and refusal to do a single thing he's told, no matter that Severus is giving up his summer to catch him up in potions.

"How much I like or dislike your character has nothing to do with your skill or lack thereof in this subject," Severus eventually answered.

"My work is no worse than anyone else's and you treat it as if it's the worst you've ever seen."

"Then work harder so that I have nothing to criticize."

"I could be perfect and you'd still find something wrong. Why try harder for you when nothing is good enough?" Potter replied, frustration colouring his voice as he began to lose his temper once again. "Anything I do is just an excuse for you to humiliate me."

"You don't get to question my methods, Potter. Enough!" There was silence as the pair stared each other down.

Potter broke the silence. "Why do you hate me?" He looked Severus in the eye boldly.

"Potter, this is not an appropriate time for this discussion." This was not even remotely going well but at least he knew now why the boy was struggling so much with his anger since these lessons began. He didn't want to engage in this conversation with the child. He would not lie to him.

"No, come on, I want to know," the boy challenged. "You hate me, the Dursleys hate me. I'm not allowed to ask questions but I know damn well why they hate me. I know it's not the same reason for you, so tell me, what did I do?" 

"Potter–" Severus started.

"Tell me."

"Potter-"

"TELL ME," the boy screamed.

"I believe I've told you many times before what I think of you," Severus answered coldly.

"Yeah, you have, thanks, sir," he replied sarcastically. "But you hated me from the moment you saw me at the feast, and in your first class. You didn't know me."

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree," he answered honestly.

"God, at least they hate me for me. You– you were going to hate me anyway," the boy spluttered.

It was time to take control of this situation before it got any worse.

"Sit down, Potter."

"No, I don't have to–"

"Sit down."

The boy unwillingly complied. Severus did not speak right away and as Potter sat there in the quiet his face seemed to lose it's colour and he looked more than a little anxious.

"I will not accept this behaviour from you. I have been exceptionally lenient with you but it stops now." He took a moment to assemble his thoughts before continuing. "Before I met you I had preconceived notions about your character and since I taught you in my class I had not been dissuaded from those notions. However, since you came to live in my quarters I have been made aware that there are aspects of your character that I am not acquainted with. I do not know you, Mr. Potter; therefore, I do not hate you.

I am also quite aware that I have been dealing with your potions work in a strict manner this summer. I assumed that you would have anticipated it considering how I dealt with your homework earlier. I expect your best, Mr. Potter, and I know when you're giving it."

"Oh." Potter said staring at his hands, his expression carefully blank.

"Indeed. Now I suggest you clean this up – the muggle way. You'll be completing lines this evening seeing as losing your free time does not drill the message in. I want five hundred lines reading 'I will show my guardian respect at all times.'"

H.P.

He hadn't meant to bring up the Dursleys. He didn't want to feed whatever thoughts people were having about his treatment at the hands of his relatives. Snape hated him and Dumbledore still made him take Harry in, so it wasn't like it was a big deal or anything.

He couldn't believe the man was letting him get away with screaming at him. The moment he'd stopped he knew he was in for it. It was some strange stroke of luck that he'd gotten away with it. Well, almost get away with it.

His hand ached from writing lines and he took a break to count how many he had done. Three hundred and forty two – this was taking forever!

"Lunch, Potter. Have you finished your lines?"

"Not yet, sir," he replied with detached politeness.

"The headmaster has sent word that he will be returning to the castle early next week."

Harry didn't know what he was expected to say. Snape didn't say anything else nor pay him any attention for the rest of the meal so he guessed it was okay to say nothing.

Harry waited anxiously for Remus to arrive as Snape flipped through a potions journal. Remus had been pretty upset with him for running away and he'd pretty much missed his entire visit. On the other hand, he really wanted to see him and Sirius again, he hadn't really spent any time with his godfather yet and he couldn't wait to.

The fireplace flared green and Remus stepped out, smiling. "Harry do you want to go get your broom? Sirius thought it might be nice if you guys went for a fly today."

It was as if last week hadn't happened. He grabbed his broom and gave Snape a vague wave goodbye as he disappeared through the floo.

"Hey, Harry!" grinned Sirius, giving him a brief one-armed hug. "You okay, kid?"

"Yeah, I'm good," Harry replied, desperately hoping that Sirius wouldn't bring up Snape again.

"Good, let me know if, you know, you're not," he said awkwardly. Harry figured that Remus must have given him a hard time after how he'd gone on about Snape last week but was infinitely grateful that he didn't bring up the Dursleys.

Remus took a while to come back through. Snape was probably giving him a hard time or moaning about what a pain Harry was being. 

Sirius transformed into a great black dog and ran around the guardian barking and wagging his tail in excitement. Harry laughed as he chased his tail in a circle before transforming back.

"Come on, show me some moves on your Firebolt," Sirius challenged, launching himself into the sky on his own broom and tossing him a battered quaffle.

Remus stepped through the floo and followed them outside. He didn't join them in the air, instead transfiguring some sticks into rings and floating them to roof level.

"Don't go too high. I've got wards up so people can't see you, but you should feel if you're leaving them," Remus warned.

Harry spent a very enjoyable afternoon playing one-on-one Quidditch with Sirius. He ended up howling in laughter when Sirius desperately tried to block the quaffle from going through his own hoop and ended up throwing himself into a tree and he declared himself 'a little rusty.' Remus refereed but spent the majority of the time on the ground. Apparently the full moon had been a couple of days before and he was still worn out, but he looked in high spirits.

As the three of them sat eating in Remus' living room he looked up. "Sirius and I will be coming up to the castle later this week."

"Are you coming to see Dumbledore? Snape said he was coming back in a couple of days."

"Yes, we'll be going to see him. We've got a couple of things to sort out. We might stop by on you and Severus." Harry looked over at Sirius to see him scowling at his plate but saying nothing.

"Have you guys asked Snape?"

"Yes, I had a word with him after you came through."

"Oh. Good," Harry grinned.

Sirius spent the rest of the evening regaling Harry with stories of the marauder's youth, carefully leaving Wormtail out from all the stories. When Harry returned to Snape's quarters it was in much higher spirits than when he'd left.