Harry stared hard at his chicken salad sandwich and tomato soup, steadfastly refusing to let his eyes wander anywhere lest he looked at Malfoy or Snape. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been more uncomfortable in his entire life. The three of them were sitting in a suffocating silence as Harry and Malfoy picked at their lunches. They had both rested in their rooms for a couple of hours before Snape called them down to lunch. The kitchen and dining room were connected in a long, open-concept room, the doors to the left of the staircase Harry had previously noticed being the entrances. There were several windows that let the sunlight pour into the room. They were sat at a smaller rectangle dining table with space enough for six people, eight if they squeezed.

He and Malfoy had glared at each other as they left their rooms and met at the top of the stairs. Malfoy had stalked down the stairs while Harry took the charmed section. Snape had said nothing when they entered the dining room, but just gestured for them to sit. Snape was on the end of the table and they sat in the two spots adjacent to him, across from each other. Once they were settled, Snape had tapped the table and their lunches had appeared in front of them.

The quiet had only grown more and more tense and uncomfortable. Harry was convinced the entire arrangement would never work.

“It is time to go over the expectations for the next three weeks,” Snape said and both boys looked at him, hesitantly but still with light glares. “You are here to heal and for us to discover how you Apparated inside the castle. Once these things are completed, you will return to your homes.”

Harry swallowed thickly at the thought of returning to Privet Drive. His eyebrows furrowed very slightly when he saw Malfoy’s hand clench around his spoon. What was Malfoy’s problem with going home?

“Be aware, you will tell me what happened to cause you to be able to Apparate into Hogwarts, even if I have to rip it from your minds myself,” Snape threatened.

Harry felt panic at the idea of Snape of all people learning about his life with the Dursleys, but also anger at the man’s threat.

“You can’t do that!” Malfoy argued, looking just as angry as Harry felt.

Snape turned a dangerous glare on the blonde. It seemed like Malfoy wanted to flinch away at the look, but managed to hold his ground and meet the man’s eyes.

“You can always tell me freely, Mr. Malfoy, then it will not be necessary for me to do so,” Snape said in a low tone.

“I don’t know what Dumbledore thinks you’re going to find,” Harry said, drawing Snape’s hard eyes to himself. “I’m not hiding any secret power.”

“Have some respect, Potter,” Snape snapped. “While I agree there is nothing remotely remarkable about you and you have only ever proven to be completely useless in all magical areas, the headmaster is a hopeless optimist and there is something that has allowed you to break the castle wards.”

Harry felt rage fill him and he clenched his fists. Dumbledore was insane if he thought Harry would tell Snape anything. The professor didn’t want to help them. The entire arrangement would just give Snape the chance to torture them, maybe even give Harry over to Voldemort like the Death Eater he was.

“I do not want to see you outside of meals, treating your injuries, or questioning you about what you’re hiding. Additionally, I cannot trust you to not cause utter destruction in my home,” Snape said. “As such, you will remain in your rooms at all times except for these instances.”

Harry couldn’t help but gape while Malfoy was the one to grow outraged.

“You can’t keep us locked away!” Malfoy said angrily, almost shouting. Harry had noticed the way the Slytherin’s voice cracked and turned hoarse quickly over the last few days, and absently wondered what had happened. He’d hardly taken the time to wonder what had happened to Malfoy and why he’d also appeared at Hogwarts, not that he truly cared.

“Mr. Malfoy, do not presume to have any liberties. This is my home and you will follow my orders,” Snape said, glaring at the Slytherin again. “If you do not follow my instructions, you will not enjoy the consequences.”

Harry’s stomach twisted, wondering what Snape considered appropriate punishment outside of Hogwarts.

“But—”

“You do not have a place here, either of you,” Snape growled. “Do not be so arrogant as to think you are wanted here. This arrangement is at the behest of the headmaster, nothing more, and I will rid myself of you as soon as I possibly can.”

Harry was filled with hate and he could tell the feeling was mutual in the others. He tried to ignore the sting in his chest at hearing how unwanted he was. He couldn’t have expected anything else from Snape.

“Now, would either of you care to tell me anything about what happened three days ago?” Snape asked, looking at them both pointedly.

Harry clenched his jaw, adamant in never speaking of the Dursleys to anyone. He looked at Malfoy who had done the same thing, his grey eyes flashing. What was the Slytherin hiding? Surely he’d want to brag if he was secretly powerful. It would add to all the things he believed made him better than anyone else. What could possibly be so wrong in the precious life of Draco Malfoy that he felt the need to keep a secret from his Head of House?

“Very well,” Snape said after several minutes of defiant silence. “Get out, to your rooms.”

Malfoy shoved away from the table and stomped out of the dining room. Harry huffed, wishing he could do the same thing. Instead, he pushed his chair back, wincing at the pull of his healing skin on his bandaged arm, and shuffled out of the room on his crutch.

Malfoy was already ensconced in his room as Harry slipped into his. He sat heavily on the bed, breathing a little harder from the exertion. He glared at his leg, cursing his uncle, before sighing. He gazed around the room. It was fairly large and comfortable with an en suite bathroom. Across from the bathroom door on the far wall was a large, dark wood wardrobe and matching dresser. Across from the bedroom door was a large double window with a cushioned window seat and a few small pillows. Beside the window seat was a wooden desk and cushioned desk chair. The wall above the desk had shelves built into it, all empty. There was a small beside table with a little lamp. The bed was quite soft and comfortable with a deep blue comforter and several cushy pillows with different shades of blue pillowcases. The floor was covered with a soft, fluffy deep red carpet. It was quite a nice room and he actually liked it.

He sighed and carefully pulled his broken leg up onto the bed so he could lay down, sinking into the pillows. He danced his fingers over the bandages covering his right forearm as he stared up at the ceiling, allowing his thoughts to wander.

How had he ended up there?

Would he ever find a place he belonged? A home?

“Severus, might I come through?”

Severus sighed, irritated, but cleared his emotions. “If you must.”

The fireplace flared and Dumbledore stepped out gracefully. Severus looked up from the correspondence he’d had to abandon several days earlier and raised an eyebrow, hoping the headmaster would get on with it quickly.

“I must speak with Harry,” Dumbledore said.

“Upstairs, second on the left,” Severus said and waved the man off, returning to his task. He scrawled his response, giving the details of the books and ingredients he needed to order. Given the new situation with Voldemort’s return, he was going to need certain potions on hand again, but his personal stores were fairly depleted. He paused when he thought he heard a raised voice from upstairs, but shrugged it off when he heard nothing more.

“No!” 

His head flew up at the shout and he hurried up the stairs. Malfoy had stepped out of his room, curious about the yelling, but stopped where he was at Severus’ glare. Severus entered the open doorway of Potter’s room and quickly took in the situation. Dumbledore was looking at Potter over his glasses, somewhat sternly, while Potter was holding himself up on the bed on his hands. The boy’s face was twisted in a glare though there was something else in the green eyes behind the anger.

“What, may I ask, has happened that requires such a tone?” Severus asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow when Potter shot daggers at him.

“Harry and I were simply discussing his home in Privet Drive,” Dumbledore said casually. “I went there to retrieve Harry’s wand and discovered something curious.”

Severus looked at the headmaster questioningly.

“It would appear something has caused the protective wards to weaken severely,” Dumbledore said. “Harry must return to ensure they remain intact.”

“I’m not going back,” Potter ground out.

“Harry, you must. The wards must remain if you are to be safe,” Dumbledore said.

Potter shook his head. “I don’t care. I’m not going back there.”

Severus furrowed his eyebrows slightly at Potter’s blatant refusal. He turned to the headmaster. “What has caused the wards to weaken?”

“I had hoped Harry could explain,” Dumbledore said, looking at Potter calmly in the face of the boy’s anger.

“How the hell should I know?” Potter snapped.

“Potter, watch your tone,” Severus snapped back at him.

“Screw off, Snape,” Potter spat and Severus grew hot at the boy’s rude insolence.

“Harry, please, mind your tone and show Professor Snape some respect,” Dumbledore said, bringing Potter’s glare back to him. “I have a theory about what happened to the wards and I hope you can confirm it for me.”

Potter just kept glowering, waiting to hear the theory.

“Have you expressed a feeling that Privet Drive is not your home?” Dumbledore asked.

An emotion flashed across the boy’s face, disappearing in an instant.

“So what if I did?” Potter said guardedly and Severus frowned at the boy’s apparent apathy towards the home and family he’d grown up in for fourteen years.

Dumbledore’s face gained disappointment as he gazed at Potter. “By expressing such a thing, the wards will lose their ties to the home. Your mother’s protection is meant to protect you at home, but it will not work if you do not believe the place to be your home.”

Potter’s face hardened. “Yeah, well, it’s not my home. It never has been.”

“Harry, why would you say that?” Dumbledore asked, his disappointment growing.

“Because it’s true,” Potter said stiffly. “I’m not going back.”

“This is not negotiable, my boy, you must keep the wards strong to be safe,” Dumbledore said.

“It obviously is negotiable considering you were going to keep me here for three weeks,” Potter said and Severus silently commended the boy for identifying the headmaster’s confusing hypocrisy and calling him out.

“That was before the wards had grown so weak. Your mother’s love is within you and powers the wards,” Dumbledore explained. “You must return home.”

“It’s not my home!” Potter said loudly, almost shouting. “And I am never going back.”

“Harry—” Dumbledore said, his tone turning disapproving.

“No!” Potter shouted, cowing only slightly at Severus’ sharp look. “I’ll stay anywhere else. I’ll go back to Hogwarts.”

Severus couldn’t help but roll his eyes at Potter’s repeated suggestions that had failed only the previous day.

“The school is closed for the summer,” Dumbledore said. “All the staff have left.”

“The Weasleys,” Potter said.

“The Burrow has very little protection around it and they are staying somewhere else this summer,” Dumbledore explained.

“Sirius.”

“He is still in hiding and cannot adequately protect you.”

Severus could see the boy getting desperate. His forehead wrinkled slightly when the green eyes turned to him.

“Here then,” Potter said and Severus’ eyebrows jumped. “It’s obviously safe enough for three weeks, so it’s safe enough for the summer.”

Dumbledore was clearly just as surprised at Potter’s final suggestion, his final attempt to get removed from his relatives’.

“Harry, you were welcome here temporarily. You cannot expect Professor Snape to house you for the entire summer, especially not without his consideration,” Dumbledore said.

Severus rolled his eyes again. It wasn’t as though he had truly been considered when Dumbledore decided he would be the one to take the two boys for the initial three weeks.

“Please, sir,” Potter said, his eyes intent. “I promise to listen to you and stay out of your way. Just, please, don’t send me back.”

Severus held the boy’s eyes, replicas of his mother’s, as he contemplated his decision. He certainly had no desire to have Potter in his home for the entire summer, but the boy’s adamant refusal to return to his relatives’ combined with his injuries had him one hundred percent convinced that his theory was correct and Harry Potter was abused. The extent of it, whether it had been a solitary incident or not, he didn’t know or particularly care. However, he could not justify sending the boy back to abuse now he was aware.

He couldn’t stand the child and he doubted Potter’s promise to follow the rules, but, as he kept eye contact, he knew he had to do what the headmaster was unwilling to do. So, he turned to Dumbledore with a sigh.

“Potter can stay here for the summer,” he said, meeting Dumbledore’s raised eyebrow with a steady stare. “You know perfectly well the manor is very well protected. The boy will be safe here.”

Dumbledore still appeared disappointed, but he inclined his head, acquiescing on the matter. “Very well. Severus, you can take the summer to assist Harry with his magic as you will now have the time. Harry, you are to behave and respect Professor Snape at all times. If he reports any issues, you will return to Privet Drive.”

Potter appeared to go through multiple emotions within seconds, ending with a clenched jaw and hard eyes. “Fine.”

“I will retrieve your belongings from your relatives’,” Dumbledore said.

“Thank you, sir,” Potter said tightly.

“Severus, can I have a word before I take my leave?” Dumbledore said, trying to bring the usual lightness back to his voice.

“Of course, Headmaster. I will be there in a moment. Potter is in need of some treatment,” Severus said and he looked pointedly at the boy’s arm when Potter frowned at him. He watched the boy’s eyes grow wide when he noticed the red bandages on his arm. He had clearly reopened some of his lacerations by straining to keep himself elevated all this time.

“Yes, of course,” Dumbledore said. “I will be in the downstairs study. Harry, I will return with your belongings.”

“Yes, sir,” Potter said with little emotion.

Severus allowed the headmaster to leave before pulling over the desk chair to sit beside the bed. He waved his hand and some supplies popped onto the bedside table. He grasped Potter’s arm, ignoring the flinch, and swiftly unwrapped the bloodied bandages. He dripped Murtlap Essence onto the reopened wounds, watching them stitch themselves closed.

“Thank you, sir, for letting me stay,” Potter said after a time.

Severus sneered. “Trust me, Potter, it is not out of the kindness of my heart. It is the only arrangement we can all tolerate.”

“Right,” Potter said shortly.

Severus finished bandaging the boy’s arm and dropped it. “I expect you to do as you promised. I will only see you when necessary. No need to disturb me more than you already have.”

“Yes, sir,” Potter said, his tone stiff.

Severus returned the chair and stalked from the room, casting a final look at Potter who just tracked him with his green eyes.

Harry cried out and covered his face as Vernon’s belt snapped across his back. The pain radiated throughout his body and he whimpered. Vernon cackled above him, bringing his belt down again and again, making Harry scream louder with every strike. 

“Please, stop!” Harry yelled. He looked up to watch his uncle, his eyes widening at the belt coming down on him yet again. “Someone, help me!” 

Just as the belt was about to hit him, it transformed into a streak of well-known green light that travelled over his head. He spun around, his surroundings morphing as he did. 

“Cedric!” he cried as the light struck and Cedric fell to the ground, his eyes wide and empty. Sobbing, he gazed up at Vernon to find he had changed into Voldemort, the red snake-like eyes glinting down at him accompanied by the twisted, evil smirk. 

“I want to see the life leave the great Boy Who Lived!” Voldemort yelled, whipping his wand through the air. 

Harry screamed again, the white-hot pain ripping through him, making him writhe. 

“Potter!”

The torture continued. He was sure he was going to die. He couldn’t be what they all thought. He couldn’t stop any of them, couldn’t save anyone. 

“Potter, wake up, damn it!”

Who was that? He opened his eyes and, through blurry vision, Voldemort changed. He frowned as the figure transformed into Snape. 

“Potter!”

His eyes flew open and he gasped. He pulled away from the touch he felt on his arms, hissing at the pain from his roughly jostled injuries. His eyes jumped around as he recognized the bedroom at Snape’s and that he wasn’t at the Dursleys’ or in the graveyard. The memories washed over him and he snapped his eyes shut again, willing the images away.

“Potter, enough of this foolishness.”

He opened his eyes, blinking away the tears as he looked at his company. His eyes narrowed into a glare.

“Get away from me,” he spat at the professor, overwhelmed with his memories and embarrassment.

“Potter, you were screaming loud enough for the entire country to hear you,” Snape snapped. “I had to wake you.”

“Fine, you did, now get out,” Harry said angrily, hating that Snape and Malfoy would know about his nightmares, adding more fuel to their taunts. He held his glare even as Snape’s face twisted into anger as well.

“Do not speak to me like that, boy,” Snape growled and Harry couldn’t help his flinch at the use of ‘boy’. “You are an unwelcome guest in my home and you have now disturbed my sleep. Show some respect.”

Harry knew the man was right, but he couldn’t concede to Snape. It would be used against him like a weakness. Instead, he just glowered, refusing to say anything else.

“Go to sleep and do not make me come in here again,” Snape snapped and stormed from the room, closing the door hard behind him.

Harry let out a breath and sunk back into his pillows, overcome by painful memories of Vernon, Voldemort, and Cedric.