Harry made his way back to Gryffindor tower very slowly, keeping to corridors he knew would be mostly abandoned by now. He had not been coping well with Cedric’s death and Snape had mercilessly ripped open a wound that had barely had a chance to heal. Now the pain of it was far too close to the surface and he needed a little time to pull himself together before he could face the invasive questions that would no doubt be waiting for him when he returned.
All too soon, Harry found himself staring at the portrait of the Fat Lady as she stared back at him with pursed lips waiting for him to either speak the password or leave. Unable to justify stalling any longer, he took a deep breath to steady himself and then gave the password. As the portrait swung aside, he indulged in a momentary fantasy that just this once he’d be able to slip by unnoticed.
He stepped through the entryway squaring his shoulders and holding his head high, he thought he even managed a pretty convincing grin. So he was utterly shocked when no one even glanced in his direction as he sauntered by. His smile became a touch more genuine in his relief and he picked up his pace, eager to reach the dorm.
“Oh, hey Harry! Thought you’d have been chopped into bits of potion ingredients by now,” Neville called over jovially.
Was it believable to pretend he hadn’t heard? Probably not, he decided, judging by the sudden lull in the murmurs of common room conversation. He could all but feel dozens of eyes landing on him as he slowed to a reluctant stop. Where was his invisibility cloak when he really needed it? He quickly scanned the small crowd, locating Ron and Hermione by the fireplace straightaway. That, at least, gave him some comfort.
“What did Snape want?” someone called out shamelessly, and like a dam had burst, the room instantly flooded with voices as everyone tried to make their comments heard. “Probably detention, right?” “He seemed pretty peeved.” “When is the git not peeved?” “I’ll bet it was about the itching jinx you put on Malfoy’s robes, that was-” Harry used the sudden chaos to take a moment to think. He’d known to expect this after being pulled out of dinner so conspicuously, but he'd been too distracted to come up with a plausible story.
Harry shook his head, deciding to cut in as speculations became increasingly imaginative. “You don’t have to worry about me, Snape’s a git but he really can’t do much this close to–”
Harry stopped suddenly, clapping a hand over his forehead and squeezing his eyes shut. He stumbled forward, his face contorting in a grimace of pain as he sunk to one knee.
Ron and Hermione were at his side in an instant.
“Harry? Are you okay?” Hermione asked quietly.
“I-I'm all right,” Harry responded, cracking an eye open and weakly attempting to wave them off.
Ron eyed the gawking Gryffindors with annoyance. “Let's get you upstairs,” he said, helping Harry up. Hermione took the other side and together they half-carried Harry towards the boy's dormitory, heading up the stairs as loud whispers broke out behind them.
“Was it You-Know-Who?” Ron asked urgently, as they approached his bed. Harry straightened so he wasn’t leaning on his friends anymore and plopped down on his four-poster.
“False alarm,” he shrugged, grinning in an attempt to lighten the tense mood he’d created. They gaped at him, neither taking the bait.
Hermione was the first to react.“You shouldn’t joke about that Harry! I was really worried!”
Ron shifted on his feet, “Yeah mate, next time maybe let us in on it okay?” he said with a grimace of a smile that showed he was still every bit as worried about him.
Harry looked away from them, the grin sliding from his face as though it were never there.
“Right, sorry, I hadn't meant to scare you. I just needed to get out of there,” he said, leaning forward on his elbows. He felt the bed lower on either side of him as his friends joined him.
“What happened? Did Snape do something?” Ron asked.
Harry laughed humorlessly. “Not exactly, he just wanted to talk. Dumbledore’s gone ahead and made some arrangements for us, though I can’t imagine what he was thinking when he did. Anyway, I’m being forced to have lessons over the holiday to learn something that ought to help me with the visions. But at least I won't have to go back to the Dursley's tomorrow.”
“Harry, that's great news!” Hermione said brightly, before taking in his still sober expression. “Oh, but where does Snape come into this?” She looked at him, eyes widening. “Oh! And where will you be staying instead if the castle is closed?”
Harry smiled minutely, leave it to Hermione to piece it all together in one go. Ron, however, was not so quick catching on. “That's right, maybe you can come stay with us at the Burrow! It would be brilliant and you know my mum would be thrilled to have you... What?” Ron looked from Harry to Hermione's pitying face, and his shoulders sagged. “I've missed something haven’t I?”
“I wish I could stay with you Ron, but Dumbledore has other plans.” Harry sighed. “He wants me to learn some rare type of magic. I don't know much about it, but it's called Occlumency.”
Hermione lit up at this new piece of information. “I've never heard of that. I'll have to do some research, but maybe I can help you a little.” She spoke with the kind of giddy excitement that often overtook her in the face of a particularly challenging assignment.
“Thanks Hermione, I'll need all the help I can get with Snape for a teacher.”
Ron froze in horror. “Did you say Snape is teaching you?!”
Harry nodded. “That's not the worst bit, I'll be staying at his place until next term for the lessons.”
“Alone? Why would Dumbledore agree to that? Snape could easily turn you over to You-Know-Who!”
“Calm down Ron,” Hermione cut in. “I'm sure Professor Dumbledore would not have put Harry in this position if it were unsafe. We have to trust the headmaster’s decision, and that means we have to trust Snape.”
Ron conceded. “Fine, but even if he doesn’t try to have Harry killed, that doesn’t mean he won't make his life miserable. Doesn't he have enough to worry about?”
“I'll be fine Ron, really. I’m not looking forward to it, but if it's the only way to get rid of the visions, I have to give it a go.”
Ron frowned. “It's your funeral,” he mumbled, earning himself an exasperated look from Hermione.
Hermione turned and beamed at him. “I'm so proud of you Harry, you’re actually doing something to keep yourself out of harm's way. With that attitude I just know you'll be able to do it.”
Harry gave her a small smile which immediately morphed into a wide-mouthed yawn. He loved his friends, but he was absolutely knackered.
Hermione took the hint. “Right, you must be tired. We should probably let you rest,” she said, standing and motioning for Ron to do the same.
“Huh? It's still early why would we–”
“Just come on,” she interrupted him, taking his arm and pulling him off the bed.
Harry watched them go, feeling a tad guilty for lying to them. In truth, he had no intention of using Occlumency to block out the visions. Snape had made it abundantly clear: he was weak, and he always had been no matter the lengths he went to try to hide it. He had been lucky so far, but now he had something of an advantage and he wasn't just going to give it up.
He closed the curtains around his bed and cast his usual silencing spell to ensure his privacy as he lay down. Now that he was alone again, memories of the cemetery plagued him and he had no way to escape the guilt. He stared blankly at the fabric of the curtains, knowing that the instant he closed his eyes, Cedric's lifeless gaze would find him. It was a long time before he was able to fall into a restless sleep.
His morning hadn’t gone much better. When someone woke him hours later, he felt as though he hadn’t slept at all. He rolled over groggily waving Ron away several times so he could continue sleeping.
But Ron was persistent, “Harry, I think you'd better wake up now.” The nervousness in his voice roused Harry more than his friend's words and he opened an eye. Ron looked a little relieved, “Finally! You've already slept straight through breakfast and now Snape's come looking for you. He says you’ve thirty minutes before he comes to drag you out himself.” Harry groaned and proceeded, very reluctantly, to prepare himself for the exciting start of his new waking nightmare.
After bidding his friends farewell, Harry levitated his trunk over to the main entrance where Snape was waiting for him. He approached the dour man cautiously.
“You should know I do not enjoy being kept waiting, Potter.” Snape said.
“I’m ten minutes early, sir.” Harry replied crossly.
Snape did not acknowledge his response; instead he turned and walked through the impressive entryway doors out into the brisk December air. Harry followed, restraining himself from asking where they were heading since Snape would very probably tear him to shreds for the even the most reasonable question. With neither of them speaking, tension grew in the air as they walked towards the edge of the grounds. Snape fumed in his silence, his movements fast and sharp, and Harry, feeling no need to try to endear himself to the man, left him to his dark thoughts.
Harry wondered idly what kind of house Snape lived in, the only image that came to mind was a replica of the dungeons at Hogwarts: cold and uninviting. Three whole weeks at Snape's mercy, Harry thought bitterly. It was a sobering thought, one he’d been trying to push away in fact, that Snape could now do anything he wanted with him. While he was fairly sure Snape wasn't in fact a Death Eater out to kill him, the man certainly made no effort to conceal his animosity towards Harry.
Snape halted so suddenly that Harry nearly crashed into him, causing him to stumble clumsily around the man to avoid contact. Choosing to ignore the contemptuous look pointed in his direction, Harry straightened and smoothed his robes coolly before looking to the professor. Snape stepped forward grabbing Harry’s trunk and placing himself uncomfortably close to Harry, and it took a tremendous amount of willpower for Harry to stop himself from moving away.
“We are going to Apparate using Side-Along Apparition. Take hold of my arm, Potter, and do not, under any circumstances, let go. Can you do that?” he asked with mocking slowness.
Harry gritted his teeth. “Yes...sir.” he added at the professor's sharp look. Failing to suppress a grimace, Harry reached out and gripped the man's arm loosely.
Snape's face darkened immediately, “Hold on tightly you imbecile, you do not want to lose your grip mid-apparition!”
Harry grudgingly tightened his hold and almost immediately he was overtaken by a decidedly disagreeable sensation. All at once it was like he was being tugged away while his body was being simultaneously flattened out like putty and shoved through an extraordinarily tight rubber tube. And then it was over. He slammed down onto his feet, knees buckling immediately under the pressure and he found himself dry heaving on the ground before he could even process what was happening.
“We have arrived.” The professor's dry voice brought Harry back to his senses. Trying to distract from the embarrassment of his rather violent and undignified reaction Harry looked up to see where exactly they had landed.
It was... underwhelming. It was a relatively large house, somewhat larger than the Dursley's certainly, but where they had valued perfection in outward appearance, this building had a general feel of neglect. The black paint on the side of the house was peeling off in places, while untidy green vines crept up the building in others, some continuing onto the moss and lichen covered roof. The lawn was equally uncared for, with a myriad of weeds and grasses growing between patches of bare soil where rubbish littered the property.
“You can’t possibly live here,” Harry breathed, unable to keep the horror from his voice.
Snape sneered at him. “This may come as a shock to you, but most people do not live their lives being pampered and coddled as you have.” He paused, and Harry rather didn’t like the look of the smile that crept across his face, “As you will be... staying here for a time, I will ensure that you gain ample understanding of how we lowly commoners live.”
Any guilt over his tactless comment evaporated from Harry's mind with that last sentence. “Don't pretend you know anything about me, professor. I know too well how 'commoners' live but this place looks more like the neighborhood rubbish pile than a home.” It was true, the rest of the area while not exactly posh, didn’t show nearly the same level of dilapidation.
Harry watched as Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously for a moment, but then his anger seemed to subside. The Potions master looked toward the house with something like loathing. “While I cannot disagree, this is my home, Potter, and you have hardly earned the right to insult it.”
Harry floundered uncertainly for a moment, he’d been ready to go on the defensive but now was feeling the need to apologise. Snape, however, was already moving on towards the house.
Harry lagged a bit grabbing his trunk, still somehow half sure that Snape could only have lured him to this unsavory place for some kind of Death Eater ambush. He dragged his stuff along with an air of reluctance, which only served to annoy Snape further.
“Quickly Potter, I would rather we not be seen outside for too long.”
Quickening his pace only slightly, Harry trudged along the overgrown path to the door, and cautiously entered the dwelling. The first thing he noticed was the oppressive feeling of the inner atmosphere. There was an unpleasant energy to it, an almost physical presence he could feel pressing in on him.
Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, Harry stopped in his tracks. Who in their right mind would choose to live in a place like this? Of course, Harry thought, anyone who would become a Death Eater was clearly more than a little off. He wisely kept his rising complaints to himself, having no desire to engage with Snape any more than required.
Snape was watching him closely as he walked through the door, and closed it just a bit too hard as Harry cleared the doorway.
“There will, of course, be some ground rules, and you will follow them or face punishment,” Snape began without preamble. “Do not for one instant think that I will be coddling you or catering to your every whim as your relatives have done,” he added, his features twisting with distaste.
“I will keep this so simple even you can follow it. As you are in my care for the duration of the holiday, I will be ensuring that you keep busy doing appropriate activities. That means you will be expected to complete all of your assignments, which must be approved by me, as well as study the Occlumency book I have lent to you. If I find you still feel you have time enough to laze about, I will be obliged to assign you various tasks and chores to complete around my home.”
Harry groaned inwardly, There was no way he could study for three solid weeks without stopping at some point to 'laze about'. If Snape was anything like the Dursley's that would probably mean a fair amount of cleaning on his part. It would take a very long time indeed to get any one room to an acceptable state, he judged, looking around with a slight frown. Snape, leapt on his minute reaction.
“Oh yes, you heard correctly, the great Harry Potter reduced to doing something as menial as household chores,” he sneered,“Unlike those indulgent muggles of yours, I expect you to earn your keep. I was forced to take you in and I do not want you here any more than you want to be here, but know I will not waste this opportunity to make you more than just a useless burden to the Wizarding World.”
Harry tried not to focus too much on Snape's words, to not let the troubling idea that wherever he went he was still nothing but a burden, sink in too deep. Instead he focused on Snape's condescending tone, and let himself become angry. Unfortunately, Snape didn’t pause long enough for him to formulate an adequately spiteful response.
“Meals will be served at 7am, noon, and 6pm, if you are not on time consider the meal forfeited. Do not expect me to take pity on you if you are late, rest assured I have no qualms about letting you go hungry for a few hours. Perhaps that will help to cure your persistent tardiness.” Snape arched an eyebrow at Harry, as if expecting him to protest, but took Harry’s silent, baleful glare as his cue to continue.
“As of now you are only allowed into your room and any open areas. Do not open any other doors without my express consent. Your room and my own are on opposite ends of the house, and as you are not to enter any of the surrounding rooms I do not expect to see you within the vicinity of my quarters unless there is a dire emergency. You are not to leave the premises for any reason and if you must go outside, it will be under my supervision.
“That said, since you may wish to contact your little friends in the near future, I am warning you now that all letters will be read and approved by me first. As this is still a delicate situation, a slip of the wrong information can and likely will lead to both of our deaths. Do you understand, Potter, or must I repeat myself?” While Snape kept his tone was civil, his hard eyes told Harry he was ready to pounce if he was forced to repeat anything.
He understood perfectly, he just wasn't sure whether to feel upset or resign himself to it. Who was Snape after all to read any of Harry's private letters? He wasn't stupid, he knew what kind of information to leave out. He didn't think he’d be able to get through this holiday without some support from his friends; he decided he might try to find some way around that particular rule.
He wouldn't protest having to do some chores as long as they were reasonable, that had been expected. And all he had to do was show up and he’d have regular meals, that was already a step up from the Dursley's. He felt his indignation fade with that thought; if they could generally avoid one another, this didn’t have to be so bad.
“I understand, sir,” he said, finally.
Snape examined him suspiciously for a moment, before inclining his head slightly. “Very well. Come,” he said, swiveling on his feet.
Just to the right of the entryway was a long creaky looking staircase which Snape began to ascend. Harry followed behind with his belongings. Snape turned left on the upstairs landing leading Harry down a spacious hallway until they reached the door at very end.
“This is the room you will be staying in,” Snape said, as he opened the door to reveal a small bedroom. Harry peered inside; it looked about the same size as Dudley's second bedroom.
“I will leave you to unpack your things. Bear in mind lunch will be served in one hour, whether you are present or not is up to you.” Not one to linger unnecessarily, Snape promptly turned and started back down the hall, leaving Harry to himself. Harry didn’t move until the sound of Snape's footfalls faded completely. Only then able to relax, he took a moment to assess his accommodations.
A muted light struggled in through the dust covered window panes, just barely illuminating the space. The floor was covered by a trodden grey carpet, and there were two closed doors along the far wall. He looked inside of those first, discovering a small closet and a toilet. The rest of the room was conservatively furnished with a bed, made with green and silver linens, with a bedside table next to it; there was also a simple desk and chair, alongside a thin dresser.
It figured Snape would make him stay in a room decorated with Slytherin colors, Harry groused, as he looked at the Slytherin emblem emblazoned on the emerald curtains that adorned the window. He decided to make the best of things: once he cleaned up a bit, it might even look nice. He started to empty out his trunk, placing his school materials and books on his desk and transferring a few items of clothing into the dresser. He didn't need to do any more than that, if he needed anything else, he could easily grab it from his trunk.
Harry took a moment to bask in the wonderfully freeing sensation of having access to his magical belongings away from Hogwarts, a privilege he'd never had at his relative's home. He smiled a wide, genuine smile as it hit him: he wouldn’t have to worry about the Dursley's for a while yet.
He finished with his trunk and moved it to the corner, but the rest of the room still needed some work. There was nothing he could do about the sorry state of the actual furniture, but he figured since he had time, he may as well start clearing away the dust and grime. He grabbed a torn piece of an old shirt from his trunk and began wiping down the window. The dust was thick but it came off fairly easily, letting the sunlight shine through the way it was intended. With proper light flowing in, the room didn’t seem so depressing.
He worked quickly and when he’d finished, he realized it was nearly time for lunch. Deciding it was better to be early than late, and already hungry from missing breakfast, he went to find the kitchen.
He peeked into several rooms, careful to avoid any closed doors, before he found the right one. He spotted Snape and stopped. The man had his back turned to him as he prepared something on the worktop and didn’t seem to notice Harry’s arrival. Harry hovered in the doorway, unsure whether he wanted to stay since lunch perhaps wasn’t ready yet.
He watched the man silently working, finding the whole scene a bit odd. Here he was trapped with his hated professor and now the man was forced to serve him lunch. It even smelled okay.
“Kindly stop gawking at me and take a seat, Potter,” he said, with mild annoyance. Harry very nearly jumped out of his skin and was grateful the man’s back was still turned.
“I didn’t think you’d seen me.” Harry said, moving towards the small rectangular table near the center of the room.
“Seeing you was hardly necessary, I was perfectly able to hear you stomping all throughout the house before finally making it here, only to have to endure your insufferable mouth-breathing in the doorway,” Snape said, still not bothering to turn towards him.
Harry rolled his eyes, choosing to otherwise ignore the man's dramatics.
“Right. Well, what's for lunch?”
“I'm preparing Shepard's Pie,”
Harry perked up, it was one of his favorite meals. “Oh, that actually sounds good!” he said.
Snape finally turned around to inflict a scowl upon him. “Do. Not. Interrupt.” He picked up a plate of steaming goodness and placed it at the setting across from Harry.
“As I was saying, I have prepared Shepard's Pie for myself. Unfortunately, I did not have the ingredients in stock for two portions,”
Harry looked at him in disbelief, “Then what am I supposed to eat? Can’t you share or did you plan to just have me starve?” He hadn't thought Snape would go back on his word so soon.
Snape looked positively irate now. “If you continue to interrupt me, you will be eating nothing at all!” He swirled around, grabbing a second plate from the worktop and all but throwing it at Harry.
“Enjoy,” he said coldly, taking his seat.
Harry looked down at the simple ham and cheese sandwich with a handful of plain crisps on the side. “Oh, brilliant, did you pluck this out of the dustbin or something? I hope you weren't too bothered,” he grumbled, lifting the bread and eyeing the contents with distaste.
Snape scowled at him. “I believe this situation calls for a measure of gratitude on your part.”
“Right, I’m supposed to be thankful for these scraps, while you sit right in front of me feasting?” Harry scoffed.
“This hardly constitutes a feast, and were you not so spoiled you would realize your meal is perfectly adequate,” Snape said.
“Then maybe we can switch,” Harry mumbled.
Snape's face darkened. “Your relatives may have tolerated and even encouraged this disrespectful attitude, but I will not. You will eat the food I have provided for you and you will be grateful that I took the time to prepare it!”
Harry didn’t respond, instead taking a huge spiteful bite of the sandwich. He was honestly grateful for the sandwich, even though Hogwarts had spoiled him a bit, it was still better than anything the Dursley's would have provided for him. Of course, Snape didn't need to know that. Harry rather preferred Snape think of him as spoiled than have him knowing the truth.
The rest of the meal passed in silence; Harry, glaring at Snape as he ate and Snape, ignoring him entirely. Snape did not say anything as Harry excused himself, did his washing up and went to leave, but he stopped Harry at the doorway.
“Your first lesson will begin tonight at 7 o'clock sharp in the living room. I expect you to be prepared,” he added with a pointed look.
Harry simply nodded his acknowledgment and was out of the room before Snape could demand a verbal response.
He quickly went up to his room and grabbed the Occlumency book he'd completely forgotten to read the night before. He opened the book at his desk and began to read intently. He had no idea what Snape's lessons would entail and suddenly he was feeling a tad nervous. He didn’t think it would be possible to learn more than the basics within the next several hours, but he figured he could at least get through the first few chapters.
His confidence began to wane considerably as he slogged through the first few paragraphs unable to make sense of any of it. The text was filled with needlessly complex archaic wording and far more Latin than he was comfortable with. He found himself looking up every other word, only to find it did nothing to add to his understanding. Finally, he had to give up after struggling valiantly for what must have been hours.
He slammed the accursed book closed and put his head down on its detestable cover. There was no possible way Snape hadn’t given him that dreadful book without expecting him to fail. The man clearly wanted an opportunity to ridicule him for his incompetence.
Harry sighed, getting up and flopping onto his bed instead. Exhausted from the mental workout in combination with his general lack of proper sleep, he decided he could just rest his eyes for a little while. He'd never been much for textbooks anyway, he excelled in practical magic. It didn't matter that Snape had tried to sabotage him, he had to show the man that he was capable of succeeding on his own.
Chapter 2: Arrival
Chapter End Notes:
Next time: Harry's first Occlumency lesson :)