Severus woke to the smell of bacon and eggs. He groaned, rolled over, and pulled the covers over his head. Then he threw the covers off and quickly pulled on a robe. He rushed out to the kitchen.

He saw Harry dressed, freshly showered, cooking breakfast. Severus stood there and narrowed his eyes at the boy.

"Good morning!" Harry greeted him happily.

"Good morning," Severus returned skeptically. They were silent a moment, and Harry began to look slightly concerned. "What on earth are you doing?" Severus finally asked.

"You said breakfast at eight," Harry defended. "It's only 7:50. I'm sorry I woke you up - "

"I think you misunderstand my question," Severus cut him off. "What are you doing?"

"I'm making breakfast," Harry stated obviously.

"Why are you making breakfast?" Harry looked bewildered.

"Because it wasn't going to make itself?" he replied. Severus sighed. He reached out and waved his concealed wand at the pans, instantly finishing the cooking.

"You don't have to make the meals," Severus said, his eye roll clear in his voice. "It's much simpler for me to just magic my way through it. There's no reason for you to bother. Whatever gave you the stupid idea..." Severus' voice trailed off, and neither said a word, nor did they look at each other. Harry went to the cupboard and got plates, silverware and glasses. Severus cleared his throat, but Harry didn't say anything. Severus put the pans on the table, and set out some apple juice. They both sat at the table silently.

"Sorry if you didn't want me to make breakfast," Harry muttered, biting the inside of his cheek, still refusing to meet Severus' gaze.

"That's alright," Severus replied. "Forgive my candid remark as well." Harry shrugged. "I take it you regularly made meals previously?" Harry nodded, and Severus put a generous amount of bacon and eggs on the boy's plate.

"Eat, please," Severus prompted, when Harry didn't move. Automatically, Harry picked up his fork and picked at the eggs.

"So, then," Harry began nervously, "you don't want me to make the meals?"

"No, of course not," Severus confirmed immediately. "Whatever had given you the that idea?"

"You said breakfast at eight," Harry shrugged. "What else was that supposed to mean?"

"Be up by eight," Severus clarified. "I had intended on getting up sooner."

"Oh?" Harry asked.

"I try to save sleeping in for the weekend," Severus explained. "It makes returning to a Hogwarts schedule less painful." Harry smiled.

"So then breakfast isn't at eight on the weekend?" Harry questioned.

"The weekend is up to you," Severus answered. "No restrictions on get up time, nor meals. But you still have to eat," Severus cautioned. Harry took an enthusiastic bite of eggs.

"So what time were you planning to get up during the week normally?" Harry asked casually.

"Seven thirty," Severus replied. "Why?"

"Oh, just curious," Harry shrugged off. "I'll still probably end up awake before you."

"It's not my fault you think it's an acceptable practice to get up before the sun," Severus muttered through some bacon.

"Morning was the only time I could be by myself," Harry said quietly.

"Understandable," Severus said, equally quietly.

The next few hours passed uneventfully. Snape read a newspaper, and Harry read his previously selected book quietly. They had their midday meal promptly at noon, and Snape put the sandwiches together with a quick spell. Harry had decided never to mess around in the kitchen again unless Snape expressly wanted him to. They sat at the table, finishing up their meal.

"I was planning to visit a few of the neighbors," Snape announced after the meal. "I have some more of their potions, which are undoubtedly running low since last summer."

"Did you want me to come along? Stay here?" Harry asked cautiously, unsure of what Snape wanted.

"I wouldn't mind you coming along," Snape shrugged. "I doubt the neighbors would like it though. They're all very private, and are under the impression that the potions are slightly illegal. The fewer people they believe know about it, the better for their peace of mind."

"Are they illegal?" Harry questioned.

"Slightly," Snape dodged. Harry sighed, exasperated.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Under wizarding law, I am a potions master and perfectly entitled to do as I wish with potions, assuming that the purpose of the potion is itself a legal potion," Snape began.

"So no murdering people with potions," Harry interjected.

"Exactly," Snape agreed. "Under Muggle law, some of the substances are highly regulated, and I do not hold the proper status to distribute such combinations."

"So you're not a doctor," Harry translated again.

"Yes," Snape agreed.

"You - you only give them helpful potions, right?" Harry questioned.

"I have no motivation to make them drug addicts, Harry," Snape said lowly. "They can't pay for the potions as it is. I have nothing to gain by giving them something that they shouldn't use." Harry nodded.

"I didn't think you would do that," he defended.

"I would hope you think better of me than that," Snape agreed. "I would think that the fiasco with the dreamless sleep should have taught you that I don't approve of addiction."

"It's really hard, you know," Harry began thoughtfully. "Sleeping without the potion, I mean. It's hard to relax enough to go to sleep, even doing the breathing exercises and meditation before bed."

Snape rose and collected a bag full of things, looking thoughtful, before he returned and laid a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing it sympathetically.

"I know," Snape murmured. "I'm sorry. You've made a lot of progress. Don't forget that. I'll be back in a few hours. Try not to blow up the house while I'm gone, even if it would improve the look of the place." Harry snorted and shook his head.

Snape left, and Harry heard the door click behind him. Harry locked the door behind Snape, as instructed previously. Snape had a key and would use it to get it later. In the meantime, it was too dangerous to not use at least the knob and deadbolt lock. Harry didn't lock the other latches, since they could only be opened from the inside.

Harry looked around the near-empty, quiet house and began to try to imagine something to do. He went to the kitchen cupboard and pulled out the box of baking soda that he had insisted Snape buy.

Snape might not want him cooking meals, Harry thought, but Snape couldn't object to him killing a little mold in the bathroom. It would improve the place quite a lot, and Harry needed something to do or he would go insane from the boredom. And haunting thoughts.

Harry took the box to the bathroom and began opening the cabinets, looking for a brush. He came across some cleaners and soaps that he laid out on the counter, but still no brush. He opened another cabinet and found a chain and leather collar. Harry tilted his head and cautiously picked it up.

It was a heavy, well-built chain, and the collar was also high quality. They looked old. The chain had some rust spots on it, and the leather was musty.

It looked like a dog collar. Harry smiled. Snape must have had a dog at some point, and stored this memento. Harry doubted he was supposed to find it, but was pleased to think that Snape might have had something as simple and normal as a dog. The Dursleys had never allowed animals, for fear that they might damage the house or the yard.

Harry felt the leather; it was well worn. There was a tag on the collar. Harry tipped so the light didn't reflect off of it.

Bitch.

Harry felt it almost burn his hand as he frowned at the collar. It reminded him too much of things he had been called once. Cautiously, confused, he set the objects back in the cabinet and continued to look for his brush. Upon eventually finding it, he began to scrub the baking soda into all the moldy areas of the bathroom, from the sink to the grout.

It confused Harry as to why Snape would have called his dog that. If Snape had a dog - if he cared about the dog enough to have kept the memories of it around - then why hadn't he chosen a more flattering name, like Fido or Spot? Snape was weird though, so maybe it had something to do with that? Maybe someone else had named the dog, and Snape just hadn't renamed it. Harry kept scrubbing.

Soon, the bathroom was finished, and it looked much better than it had when he started. Harry rose to his feet, put his hands on his hips, and looked proudly at his work. Snape was going to be so happy! Harry washed out the brush and and washed his hands, digging the dirt out from under his fingernails. He put the brush away, next to the collar under the sink.

The timing was perfect. Snape walked in through the door just as Harry was finishing up. Harry smiled at him. He was excited to show the man what had kept him busy all afternoon.

"Are the neighbors doing well?" Harry asked.

"Yes, well enough," Snape replied. "You look like you're about to bust if you don't say something. What's on your mind?"

"Come see!" Harry exclaimed excitedly and ran out of the room. Snape sighed loudly, but Harry could see the smile in it. He darted between Snape and the bathroom until Snape finally made it to the other end of the dilapidated house.

"See? See?" Harry prompted, entering the bathroom and gesturing around. "I cleaned out all the mold, and it's much cleaner now!" Snape smiled at Harry, in almost a patronizing way.

"Thank you, Harry," Snape said, looking around. "I appreciate it. You didn't have to do it though. I don't want to assign you work. I'm not your relatives."

"Oh, I know," Harry said, not even letting the mention of the Dursleys bring down his pride. "I wanted to help though, and I might as well put my skills to good use."

"Well, thank you again," Snape said approvingly. "Don't ever feel obligated to work on the house though. You have full permission to do what you want to, but I will never assign you repair jobs. Do you care to eat supper now?"

"Sure!" Harry responded enthusiastically. They went to the kitchen, where Snape cast a few quick spells, and they had a simple pasta dish on the table in minutes. It was rigatoni in a thin tomato sauce. There was plenty of it. Harry didn't think he could eat half of it, even if he put all of his effort into it. Snape was just going that extra length to make sure he could have all he wanted to eat, and Harry felt a warm feeling in his chest at that thought. He dished a generous helping on his plate.

"You had a dog?" Harry mentioned casually, between bites.

"Hmm?" Snape replied, his mouth full. He swallowed. "No, I never had a dog. Why?" Snape looked puzzled.

"I found something," Harry shrugged, suddenly wondering if he wasn't supposed to have seen the collar. "It's not important. Never mind."

"What did you find?" Snape's voice seemed concerned, worried.

"Like I said, not important," Harry dismissed again. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm curious what you saw," Snape said suspiciously, almost stiffly. "I don't want you to have any misconceptions about anything."

"I - I - " Harry stammered, suddenly feeling embarrassed and ashamed that he had found something of Snape's, without Snape volunteering it. He wouldn't like Snape going through his things. "I did it again, didn't I?" he finally sighed. "Sorry."

"Did what again?" Snape asked.

"Screwed things up." Harry shoved his pasta vigorously on his plate.

"Show me what you found," Snape ordered coldly. Harry noticed Snape didn't offer any argument to the self-accusation. He rose silently, avoiding Snape's eyes, and Snape followed him to the bathroom. Harry opened the cabinet with the collar and chain and pulled them out, handing them to Snape. Harry summoned the courage to look at Snape.

Snape's eyes were wider than usual, and his face was pale. He looked like he was keeping himself under control, barely, and Harry felt scared. Snape held the objects in his fingers, not his hands, as though he wanted to keep as little physical contact with the items as possible.

"Sorry," Harry apologised again. "I just thought you had a dog. I - I didn't mean to screw things up again. I can just forget about it." Snape's face twisted into a frown and he glanced at Harry.

"You want an explanation?" Snape asked, somewhat darkly.

"No, no, it's fine," Harry backpedaled quickly. "I didn't mean to intrude on anything." Snape sighed.

"I know you didn't," he said. "And I knew things like this might happen, if I invited you here. It was a calculated risk. I'll answer your questions, completely and honestly."

"Okay," Harry said nervously, shifting his weight from side to side.

"What are your questions?" Snape prompted, setting the objects on the counter distastefully. He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms, and studied the tip of his shoe.

"I - um..." Harry stammered. "I know you said you didn't have a dog, but I can't see why you would have named anything that."

"I didn't," Snape replied promptly.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled. "If it wasn't for a dog - what was it for, then?" Harry bit his lip nervously and watched guarded emotions pass over Snape's face.

"Me," Snape replied simply, without looking at Harry. His lips formed a tight line and he visibly swallowed. Harry watched Snape patiently, not pressing the man. "The collar and chain were for me."

"Why?" Harry whispered.

"Because my father liked to humiliate me whenever he could," Snape whispered back.

"But - but - " Harry objected, picking up the collar and pointing to the tag.

"An added insult, to remind me of my place and my worth," Snape explained.

"This is something the Dursleys would do, though," Harry objected quietly, as he held the collar at arm's length. Snape shifted and put his hands in his pockets, but didn't look up.

"The Dursleys are not unique," Snape shrugged.

"When did your father use it?" Harry asked.

"Whenever he felt I was getting out of line," Snape replied calmly. "That is, whenever he was drunk, angry with me or my mother, whenever I did any accidental magic, or when he just felt like being a sadistic bastard."

"What did he tie you to?" Harry's voice had dropped so that it was barely audible.

"A post in the cellar," Snape choked out. "Harry, I - I don't want you to be bothered by that, please. I know it makes me seem, well, weak, I suppose, but I don't want this to alter how we've been getting along."

"Is that what you think of me, then?" Harry asked quietly.

"What do you mean?" Snape asked, his head snapping up, meeting Harry's gaze.

"You think I'm weak?"

"Absolutely not!" Snape objected emphatically. "Why...?"

"This is hardly any more a sign of weakness than what's happened to me, is it?" Harry challenged.

"No, I suppose not," Snape reluctantly agreed.

"How long did he leave you there?" Harry asked, sounding a bit sick.

"It varied," Snape dodged.

"Normally?" Harry asked.

"A day in the summer time, probably about an afternoon in winter," Snape speculated. "He didn't want to have to account to a doctor or a funeral director about what was happening, so he took care not to push the limits too far." Harry was silent, taking the information in. "He would hook the chain to a pole, lodged in the dirt of the cellar. He would put the collar on me and leave me there, alone, in the dark and cold, until he got bored and let me out. I could have undone the collar easily enough, but I never wished to anger him that much. I feared what he might do if I defied him openly. I think he knew that the poison of my own thoughts was worse than anything he could do to me. Harry, are you alright?"

Harry looked slightly green, and he had dropped the collar on the counter, leaning against it for support. He shook his head. He felt cold and clammy, listening to Snape's casual description of common childhood events.

"Did it ever occur to you that what your father did was wrong?" Harry asked, the horror plain in his voice.

"Did it ever occur to you that I had very good reasons for taking my Mark?" Snape replied, pulling his sleeve up, and revealing his tattoo. "I was trying to escape."

"But it's like something the Dursleys would do," Harry objected again. "I didn't know - I didn't even think that it could happen to someone else." Snape reached out and put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder.

"It's alright, Harry," Snape said. "You are not the first, and regrettably, you will not be the last." Harry just nodded and turned away.

"Harry?" Snape called after him softly. He paused, turned, and looked up questioningly. It brought up so many memories of the cupboard that Harry felt his eyes welling up against his will. He knew Snape would see when he looked at him. Maybe the man would dismiss it as sympathy.

"Does this remind you of something the Dursleys did?" Or maybe he wouldn't. Harry knew better than to lie, since Snape always knew when he wasn't telling the truth. Harry reached out and braced himself against the doorframe. He nodded, not trusting his voice. "Will you tell me about it?" Snape added softly. Harry shrugged and was silent a moment, trying to calm himself.

"They locked me in a cupboard under the stairs," Harry finally said. "When my Hogwarts letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs, the Dursleys got scared that someone was going to charge them with child abuse - ironic, isn't it, how they knew what they were doing? - and moved me to the smallest bedroom."

"And how did that fare?"

"Five locks, a cat flap, and bars on the window later, just fine." Snape nodded.

"So that's why you were nervous about the bars on the windows," he murmured.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"Please don't take offense at them," Snape continued. "They serve an entirely different purpose in Spinner's End than they ever did in Surrey."

"I know," Harry agreed. "Here, they're meant to keep people out; they're not meant to keep me in."

"Precisely," Snape confirmed. "The function of the locks and bars was to keep you in; what was the function of the cat flap, exactly?"

"So that they wouldn't have to unlock the door, touch me, or look at me when they finally decided to give me food," Harry admitted with another shrug. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Then we don't have to," Snape said. "I just want you to know that you will never be locked away anywhere in this house, whether by bars or deadbolts, and you are always welcome to as much food as you want. I am not your relatives, and I do not have the same standards they set."

"Of course," Harry murmured.

"Then in the meantime, let's finish supper," Snape concluded.

That night, after Harry heard Snape softly snoring, he picked up his bedding and lay down in Snape's doorway. After casting a silencing charm, he fell asleep peacefully.