Harry woke up late.

This was unusual for Harry, since he’d had early risings hardwired into him by his aunt and uncle. He was expected to be up and cooking breakfast for the family before they awoke most mornings, of course. The times in his life where he’d had a lie in were few and far between, even once he’d started at Hogwarts where sleeping in was actually an option on weekends.

But he’d done it today, even though Snape’s rule was that they had to be down for breakfast by eight. It was now almost half-past nine, and Harry had only been awoken by the sound of Draco shutting the bedroom door behind him to go and eat. Harry had completely overslept, and his insides twisted with nerves as he contemplated what would happen when he got downstairs. Would Snape be furious? Was the day already ruined by rule-breaking before it had even started? He was almost certainly in a bad mood already because of the eavesdropping last night…

Harry got ready as quickly as he could, afraid he would be in even more trouble the longer he delayed, and hurried down the stairs. It took him a few moments to get up the confidence to push open the kitchen door. When he entered, Snape and Draco were already partially finished with their food. Both of them looked up at Harry, and he scanned their faces for signs of annoyance but failed to find any.

Snape gestured to a plate of scrambled eggs. “I left a Heating Charm on it. I thought you needed some extra sleep after the events of last night.”

Harry nodded, and he felt a strange lurch in his stomach. That was so considerate, and he hated it. He didn’t want Snape to be considerate, because any sort of kindness like that was limited and came with strings attached. People always got angry if they were forced to take care of Harry for long enough, and Snape was certainly no exception. Things were all going to go horribly wrong again now that Snape was his guardian, and it would be even worse than Privet Drive had been if Harry dared to hope everything would be fine.

Harry wasn’t going to let himself get hurt again.

He poked the eggs, his stomach twisted in knots. This was all such a mess…

Harry didn’t eat a bite of food, and didn’t manage more than a monosyllabic answer when Draco or Snape asked him a question. He was so distracted by his worries that he barely even heard what they said half the times he was addressed. When they eventually realised he wasn’t feeling particularly responsive and started talking amongst themselves, Harry tuned their conversation out into a mindless drone that washed over his ears.

Even though Snape wasn’t explicitly addressing him, though, it was still clear that his attention was upon Harry. He could practically feel Snape’s eyes burning a hole in the top of Harry’s skull as he stirred the eggs into an unappealing mush, but he didn’t call attention to it. He never brought up Harry’s food issues in front of Draco, after all. That sort of consideration that he was normally so grateful for just made Harry feel worse. For one thing, it just reminded him that it was all pointless, since Draco knew, and for another, it was just another horrid kindness that Harry just couldn’t tolerate. He couldn’t look at either of them and just stared at his plate, wishing he could crawl back into his bed and hide from the day.

It wasn’t until Draco left the room that Snape finally addressed him directly. He tapped a finger next to Harry’s plate. “You need to start eating.”

All of a sudden, an unexpected flash of anger burst up in Harry. Who the hell was Snape to come into Harry’s life and start changing everything? Why did he have to be so controlling about things like this? It was ridiculous! Was this how things were going to be from now on? Snape constantly bossing him about, micromanaging his every action?

The idea of him being Harry’s guardian, of him having any sort of power over Harry’s decisions and autonomy, was truly terrifying. The Dursleys had tended to just leave him alone, but with Snape, it felt as though Harry’s every action was under a microscope, and he just couldn’t bear it. Harry wasn’t used to having any sort of attention from the adults in charge of his care, and it really chafed. He didn’t know how to do this, he didn’t understand how any of it worked, he didn’t know what to do…

“Harry.” Snape’s tone was laced with warning.

“I’m not hungry,” he muttered, pushing his plate away slightly.

“At least try -”

“No.”

Snape exhaled loudly. “At least try to eat some of it? You haven’t touched a thing.”

Harry crossed his arms and jutted his chin out, feeling furious and defiant all at once. “You can’t make me.”

“I think you’ll find I can, because you’re not leaving this table until you eat something.”

Harry scoffed and glared at Snape, whose jaw had gone quite tight. “No. You can’t tell me what to do.”

He went to push his chair out and leave, but found that he couldn’t pull his thighs up from the seat of the chair. The legs also didn’t have any sort of give when Harry tried to scrape them against the floor. All of a sudden, something Draco had said to him a few days ago sprung to mind. “He’s a big fan of Sticking Charms…”

Harry looked up at Snape, who had arched an eyebrow, and shot him the nastiest look he could muster, hoping it conveyed the full depths of his hatred. “Let me up.”

“Eat your breakfast,” he retorted.

“No.”

“Then we appear to have reached an impasse,” Snape said snarkily. He laced his fingers together and examined Harry closely, eyes cold. “I’ll release the Sticking Charm when you do as I say.”

“I don’t want it!” Harry said loudly. “It’s not a big deal if I skip a meal because sometimes I just don’t feel like eating! Calm down!”

“You cannot refuse to eat every time you’re upset,” Snape said levelly. “That sets a potentially dangerous precedent, and I am not willing to have you miss any meals, given how malnourished and underweight you are.”

“I am not going to drop dead from one missed meal!” Harry shouted, digging his nails into his palms. “I’ve had way worse, you know! I know what actual, proper hunger feels like, and I know when I do and don’t want something, and I don’t want to eat right now! Why is that so hard for you to understand?!”

“You are not leaving until you eat,” Snape said in a tone that beggared no argument. “Do you really want to have this fight with me? You’re not going to win, so eat your breakfast and we’ll be done with this.”

Harry, who had not stopped glaring at Snape for the duration of this, decided that he did want to have this fight. Yes, this was going to be the hill Harry would die on. He didn’t want Snape to be out controlling every aspect of his life, because he hated the man’s unique ability to send every one of Harry’s carefully suppressed emotions spinning out of control, and he couldn’t stand it any longer! It was the principle of the thing that made Harry want to disobey. This was a battle of wills, like Snape was implying, and Harry would not yield.

“I’d really suggest you reconsider your stance,” Snape said irritably, getting to his feet. “I’ll be back soon, and I want that food to be gone when I return.”

He swept from the room, and Harry had to resist the childish urge to pick up his plate and hurl it against the wall. It was only the uncomfortable parallels to Dudley that scenario brought up that made Harry restrain himself.

Anger was pulsing through Harry in waves, only intensifying as he was left alone in the kitchen. The more rational side of him knew that he should just suck it up and do what Snape said, since he didn’t want to spend all morning stuck to a kitchen chair, but he remained undeterred.

In all honesty, Harry didn’t quite know what the point of all of this was, but he knew he had to follow through. He wasn’t sure if he was proving a point to himself, or if he was trying to see what Snape was going to do to Harry for breaking a rule, or if Harry just needed to show Snape how much of a mess everything in his life was so Snape would realise what a horrible mistake he’d made taking guardianship of Harry and would leave. That would be for the best, because Harry couldn’t allow himself to get invested. It was unacceptable. He needed to see the point at which Snape’s tolerance would snap, causing him to turn into another version of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, and he needed to find it out soon.

Twenty minutes passed before Snape returned. His eyes flicked between the full plate up to Harry’s face, and his expression darkened. “Will you put an end to this ridiculous tantrum and eat already?”

“I already told you it’s not happening,” he said angrily, crossing his arms.

Snape’s eyes narrowed. “I do not tolerate disobedience, Harry. If you don’t do as I say, there’s going to be trouble. You won’t like what happens…”

Those words, as well as the tone they were delivered with, sent a chill down Harry’s spine, but he couldn’t back down now. He glared at Snape and muttered, “Wanker.”

A very dangerous look settled on Snape’s features. “You’d better watch your language.”

“No!” Harry said loudly. “I don’t want to watch my fucking language, so you can just fu - mmph!”

His words were cut off as something very bubbly and slimy seemed to coat the insides of Harry’s mouth. He spluttered, feeling like he’d stuck his tongue into a bottle of washing up liquid. It was remarkably unpleasant, and a horrid, soapy residue seemed to linger no matter how much water Harry swallowed from his glass.

“What did you do that for?!” he demanded, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“You know perfectly well why I did it!” Snape said angrily, tucking his wand away. “How many times have I warned you these past few weeks that if you didn’t mind your language, I would use a Soaping Spell? You knew the consequences and chose to disobey me anyway. I am sick of your behaviour this morning, and I will not stand for it any longer, Harry! Do as I’ve instructed immediately.”

Snape was on the verge of really losing his temper, Harry could tell. A muscle in his jaw had started twitching, a surefire sign of an incoming explosion. Still, Harry was feeling dangerous. He glowered at Snape, and carried right on.

“No! I’ll gladly sit here all day!” Harry hissed, lacing his tone with as much venom as he could muster. “I could sit here for weeks, so shove off already!”

“Very well, then. You’d like to play this game?” Snape got to his feet, his hands gripping the edge of the table as he loomed over Harry. His face was white and livid. “Let me explain to you what I am going to do, then. If you do not begin to eat within the next five minutes, I will be forced to spell food directly into your stomach, a highly unpleasant process which I can assure you nobody will enjoy! I will then speak to Madam Pomfrey about your food issues, and you will be suspended from the Hogwarts Quidditch team until further notice.”

If Harry had thought he was angry before, it was nothing compared to the outrage he was feeling right now. “You can’t do that!”

“I think you’ll find I can!” Snape said loudly, his nostrils flaring.

This was exactly what Harry had been afraid of! Snape using his guardianship power to make Harry’s life a living hell, with absolutely no room for recourse on his part. Taking Quidditch away was just the beginning - what would he do to Harry next? Terror coursed through him, which Harry did his best to shove down. He gave into the anger instead.

“You’re a right bastard!” he shouted, the fury exploding inside of him like crackling fireworks. “I hate you, you’re ruining everything!” 

The fireworks of anger suddenly exploded out of Harry in a great wave of power. There was an almighty bang, and the high-pitched cacophony of breaking glass. As the sounds faded, Harry realised he'd somehow ended up on his feet, chest heaving with the exertion of his vexation. The Sticking Charm had broken.

It wasn't the only thing that was broken.

The kitchen door and window had been reduced to a glittering carpet of shards, which cast strangely shaped patterns of light onto the ceiling as the sunlight hit them. Any plates or glassware that were out of the cupboards had also shattered. Harry had seemingly destroyed almost everything that could be broken…

Snape was slowly getting to his feet at the far end of the room, where he surely must have been thrown, because he hadn't been standing there before. He winced and pressed a hand to his head, and with a sudden rush of sickening realisation, Harry realised that the bang he’d heard had been the impact of Snape hitting the far wall.

At last, Harry had done it. His freakishness had gone and hurt someone.

Revulsion crawled over his flesh. He couldn’t believe he’d just done that! What was Snape going to do to him? What the hell had Harry been thinking, pushing him to the extremes of temper like that? He was going to completely lose it!

Harry had never felt panic like this. It was as if someone had grabbed his lungs in their fists and was squeezing them, crushing them, and Harry was never going to breathe again. The rapid, shallow gasps he attempted seemed to stick in the back of his throat, choking and painful.

Snape turned to face Harry, opened his mouth, and he was going to say something, but Harry couldn't stay in this room and face whatever horrible thing Snape was going to do to him, so he ran. The sharp glass cutting into his feet barely registered as pinpricks in Harry's panic-ridden brain, since he had to leave, he had to flee to safety -

But Harry didn't get far before his vision began blackening at the edges. His ears rang, his whole body felt oddly fuzzy and leaden, and he just couldn't keep his balance for a moment longer between it all. Harry felt his legs buckle out from beneath him, and would have fallen fully onto the ground if someone hadn't caught his arms on the way down. Harry couldn’t see who, since it felt like he was tumbling into a great black tunnel.

After a moment Harry surfaced, and realised he was lying on his back on the floor now. His head was leaning against a leg while someone held it upright - Draco, he realised. He must have caught Harry during the fall. Draco’s eyes were wide and panicked as he looked down at Harry, who felt too weighed down to prise himself off the floor.

“Can you hear me?” he asked, in a tone that suggested that sentence had been repeated. Harry did his best to reply, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t speak, he couldn’t even breathe -

“Severus!” Draco shouted, voice panicked. “Something’s really wrong with him!”

“No!” Harry gasped at last, trying to shove himself upright. His arms felt like jelly, and barely supported his weight. “No, don’t! Don’t, I hurt him, please don’t -”

“You did not,” a low voice said. Harry tilted his head upwards and saw Snape standing high above, holding two vials. The panic worsened with the man’s approach, especially as he crouched down next to Harry. He was within hitting distance. Harry felt like he was going to be sick…

“I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, unable to make his voice louder than a hoarse gasp.

“I know,” Snape said quietly, calmly. Too calmly. “I’m fine, see?”

He reached out a hand, and Harry jolted away so violently that his elbow sharply jabbed into Draco’s ribs. He grunted in pain, but Harry didn’t pay any attention, too busy watching Snape and trying to writhe away, but his limbs felt sluggish and out of control. His heart was beating so quickly it was a wonder it didn’t explode out of Harry’s chest in one great, violent rip.

“I didn’t mean to, it was an accident, I’m sorry, I -”

Any further words were cut off by the glass rim of a bottle pressing into Harry’s lips. He tried to turn his face away, but Snape reached out his free hand to hold Harry’s head in place, gentle but firm. It still just made him panic all the more, because he couldn’t get away, he was trapped, his arms and legs weren’t working, Snape had to be furious and Harry’s head was so fuzzy from the explosion of magic…

“What’s wrong with him, Severus?” Draco’s voice seemed to be coming from somewhere very far away.

“He’s hysterical, not now.”

The bottle tilted forwards insistently, and the potion within seeped between Harry’s lips. Snape was continuing to hold Harry’s head back, and he had no choice but to start swallowing. All of a sudden, the panic vanished, as if all sensation had dropped off a sharp cliff. Harry stared vacantly at Snape, feeling rather empty of any feeling, and absolutely, utterly exhausted. He felt as if he could sleep for days.

Harry’s chin lolled forward slightly, and he felt a pair of hands take his shoulders and move him so he was lying flat on his back, staring at the dancing dust in between the beams of sunlight. Someone - Snape, he supposed - poured more liquid into his mouth, and a heavy black curtain seemed to descend.

Everything felt fuzzy. That was the first thought Harry had when the darkness he was floating through at last softened, and he became aware of the sound of steady breathing beside him. A blanket was covering Harry, warm and soft.

He cracked his eyes open and realised the breathing came from Snape. He was reading a book in his armchair, which had somehow migrated next to the sofa that Harry was apparently lying on. He tried to sit up, unsure of why he was here. Snape noticed he was awake and reached out a hand, stopping Harry from moving up. He was surprisingly strong.

"Stay still," Snape ordered.

"Oh, he's awake?" Draco said from somewhere behind Harry's head. His body felt too leaden and stiff to attempt a look around at the other boy, wherever he was.

"Yes." Snape was staring at Harry with a look of unmitigated concern. "Fetch that Restorative Solution I left out, please. How are you feeling?"

Harry frowned, thinking hard. Did he feel anything? Not really.

“Floaty,” he decided.

"That would be the Calming Draught," Snape said. "You're on quite a high dose at the moment."

“Mmm.” Harry wriggled his arms out from under the blanket and held them straight out into the air, keeping his elbows locked. Moving them felt like he was dragging his limbs through thick treacle.

“What on earth are you doing?” Snape sounded both exasperated and amused.

Harry tried to think up a response, but his brain felt like it was made of cotton wool, and he couldn’t quite catch onto any particular words. He was overcome by a sudden vision of him with fluffy white wool tumbling out of his ears and giggled.

“Good grief,” Snape muttered. “I knew I gave you too much. Sit up a bit, you need an antidote. Do try to remain calm as it wears off…”

Harry obeyed and tried to sit up, but couldn’t quite support his weight on his hands. He ended up settling for leaning on his elbows while another vial was held to his mouth. Harry obediently drank it down, grimacing at the strange, grassy taste, and some of the layers of fuzziness wrapped around his brain seemed to be stripped away. He felt like he could finally string together a thought -

And then it all hit him.

Harry clapped a hand to his mouth as it all came flooding back. The argument. The explosion of accidental magic. The broken glass, and Snape pressing a hand to his forehead after Harry attacked him -

"Everything is fine," Snape said, keeping a firm hand on Harry’s shoulder.

"It's not!" he whispered, horror mounting. "I - I blew up your whole kitchen!"

"An exaggeration of the situation," Snape said with a casual shrug that was clearly intentional. "You blew up the glassware, which I fixed with five minutes of Repairing Charms."

"And I hurt you!" Harry said, feeling the panic mount.

"Not intentionally," Snape said, staring at him intently. "The accidental magic merely pushed me away from you. I fell because I was caught by surprise and lost my footing when I got to the wall. Accidental magic, Harry. At any rate, your magic was just trying to get me away from you, not injure me. This wasn’t intentional harm.”

"But I still did hurt you!" Harry said despairingly. "I'm so -"

"Do not apologise to me," Snape said in a low, intense voice. "I have told you time and time again now that you are never in trouble for accidental magic. You can't help it!"

Harry groaned and pressed his hands over his face, unable to bear the prospect of looking at Snape after everything that had happened. As the antidote to that overpowered Calming Draught coursed through his veins, peeling away the numb layers that had protected him, more and more was coming back to Harry, and he was mortified. Why had he taken things that far with breakfast? And why had he completely lost his head after the accidental magic in front of Snape and Draco? It felt like one of those panic attack things he’d been having on the day he’d run away, but far, far more severe. He’d been a babbling, hysterical mess! It was humiliating…

“If anyone should be making amends, it is me,” Snape said. Harry refused to look up, even though the man’s words were a shock to him, because he wanted to crawl into a hole and die from the mortification. “I grossly mishandled that situation."

"But -"

"Can you let me explain myself, please?" Snape asked wearily. Harry didn’t respond, and Snape seemed to take his silence as permission to continue. "It is no excuse, but I found visiting the Dursleys and speaking with the Headmaster yesterday to be incredibly exhausting, physically, magically and emotionally. That coupled with the lack of sleep meant I regrettably lost my temper and escalated things unnecessarily…"

"You didn't really lose your temper, though," Harry pointed out. He’d seen Snape go postal far more spectacularly than he’d done that morning.

Snape scoffed. "Please. I shouldn't have threatened to remove you from the Quidditch team over that."

"You could have done worse," Harry mumbled, finally removing his hands from over his face. He still couldn’t bring himself to meet Snape’s eyes, though. He was scared of what he might see…

"I could have also handled things far more calmly, and I did not," Snape said tightly. "Which is why I am apologising. I am fully willing to admit I make mistakes, Harry. I know I have a short temper, and I lost it."

"I lost mine…"

"Because you just found out your entire life as you know it is changing," Snape said. Harry fiddled with the edge of the blanket. "That's as good a reason as any to struggle with maintaining your composure, and I wish I’d realised that. If I had handled things in a calm manner, you would not be lying here with magical exhaustion."

Harry shot him a questioning look. "Magical exhaustion? What?"

"Destroying that much glassware and breaking a wanded Sticking Charm with accidental magic forced you to act as a conduit for a great amount of magical energy at once, more than your body could take," Snape explained. "The exertion caused you to faint."

"Oh." Harry stared into his lap. His cheeks were burning fiercely.

"It's similar to the state you were in after the Quirrell incident in your first year," Snape added. "Only this time did not put you in a coma for three days. You've been asleep for a little over three hours."

Harry nodded, and continued to twist the blanket's corner between his fingers, twirling and knotting it. His fingers and limbs still felt strangely leaden and clumsy, and his head was a swirl of guilt and embarrassment. Even though Snape had tried to assure him that there was nothing to be embarrassed about, Harry still felt ashamed.

"Why am I still doing accidental magic at this age?" he asked finally. "Isn't that kid stuff? Is there something wrong with me, or -"

"Everyone does it, actually," Draco said, pushing the door open. He was holding a canary yellow potion. "I had some at the fair, remember?"

Harry thought back to the odd gust of wind that had pushed him backwards and nodded slowly.

"It normally balances out by the time you're fully trained in magic when you reach adulthood," Snape added. "Mainly because your brain has matured and developed enough during adolescence to be better equipped in emotional regulation. Even fully grown adults may experience accidental magic in times of severe emotional distress, though."

"Wait, really?"

"Yes - I know a man who set his curtains ablaze when he woke up to find a note from his wife, who had just left him for another wizard." Snape swallowed, hard. "I myself had a magical outburst when I heard the news of… of your mother's passing."

Harry turned to Snape, shocked. "What happened?"

"I withered a rather old tree, and scorched all of the grass within a twenty foot radius," Snape said, looking away so Harry couldn’t see his face. His voice was tight and wooden.

"I shook the whole house the day my parents were sentenced to Azkaban,” Draco said, handing the brightly coloured potion to Snape. “Think about it this way, I guess - you can’t control crying when you get really upset, right? Or, ah… sweating if you’re nervous. Magic’s the same way. It’s an automatic physical response to your feelings.”

“Oh.” Harry was surprised that Draco, of all people, could come up with such a helpful explanation. He supposed being raised in a magical environment helped it all make more sense.

Harry bit down on his lip and looked over at Snape, still feeling quite worried. “But it’s not as common after you go to Hogwarts - I know it isn’t, because you don’t see people blowing up windows left and right. Why does all this accidental magic keep happening to me at the minute? I’ve done like five or six things in the last two weeks or something ridiculous, but when I was younger, months would go by without me doing anything weird! It was almost like it was easier to control then than it was now, like I’m going backwards! What’s happening to me?”

Snape regarded him closely. “I do have a theory, but you’re not going to like it.”

“Tell me anyway,” Harry said desperately. He needed to know what was causing all this awful magic so he could make it stop. Every time it happened, he felt completely terrified and out of control, two things Harry did his best to never feel.

“You found it easier to control outbursts of accidental magic as a child because you had no choice but to suppress your emotions and especially your magic around your relatives, because of their… disinclination towards wizards,” Snape explained. “Now that you have been removed from their home, you have left - survival mode, shall we call it.”

Harry nodded slowly.

“Your mind is now forcing you to process what happened to you while you lived with the Dursleys, because you’re in a… a less hostile environment,” Snape continued haltingly. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. “Part of this is closely linked to your magic. Since you were forced to suppress it as a child out of a fear of punishment, you couldn’t learn how to control your magic as it links to your emotions at the appropriate age. Since punishment isn’t a threat to you anymore, you’re beginning to go through the motions of magical regulation now, at a later age.”

Harry sighed loudly. “But why? Can’t I keep suppressing it?”

“No. It doesn’t work like that.”

Harry thought his brain was being rather stupid, because it would be a lot easier for him to just forget everything that had happened so he could move on with his life. If he could repress everything before, why did he suddenly have to stop? He supposed there was some deep, psychological reason - Snape probably had all the answers in that stupid book of his, Harry would bet - but it still annoyed him that he had to deal with this. He just wanted to get over it!

“So how do I make it stop?”

Snape grimaced, and Harry’s heart sank as the man began to speak. “You don’t. Managing magic as it links to emotions is a skill all witches and wizards have to learn, including you. Unfortunate as you may find it, it’s going to take time for this to calm. You have to do this the hard way.”

“I don’t want to,” Harry said in a small voice, wrapping his arms around himself. “It really stresses me out…”

“There’s no reason for it to, since you do not get in trouble for accidents,” Snape said sharply. “I keep my word. You’re not in trouble for today, and you will not be in trouble if something similar happens again in future. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this for it to sink in, but it’s the honest truth.”

Harry swallowed, hard, and attempted a nod. Snape had been right; that explanation did not make him very happy. Still, at least there was an explanation now…

“I can’t believe they did this to you!” Draco said angrily. Harry jolted; he’d forgotten the other boy was even in the room. He was standing in one corner, eyes narrowed, face aflame with righteous indignation. “Muggles are so horribly -”

“Draco Malfoy, don’t you dare finish that sentence,” Snape said in a low, dangerous voice. The dark look he gave Draco made him shrink back slightly and stare at the floor, although he still looked a bit cross.

“I think most Muggles I know would be thrilled by magic, actually,” Harry ventured uncertainly, sensing the direction Draco’s sentence had been going. “My aunt and uncle just… aren’t.”

Draco didn’t look all that convinced, but didn’t say anything else. Quite possibly because Snape was giving him the infamous look of doom, which would cow anyone into silence.

Snape uncorked the canary yellow potion and held it out to Harry. “Drink this.”

Harry eyed it nervously. “Er…what does it do?”

Snape gave him an exasperated look but started explaining anyway. “It’s a Restorative Solution. It will help with the magical exhaustion.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Harry took it from Snape and drank it as quickly as he could to try and avoid tasting it, wrinkling his nose as an odd, filmy layer clung to the back of his teeth. Still, the potion almost instantly eased the heaviness in Harry’s limbs, which had been really bothering him, and remedied a deep ache in his muscles that Harry hadn’t even realised was there. He tried to get up from the sofa again, since he didn’t want to be here with Snape right now after what Harry had done to him, but the man easily pushed him back into place. Despite the aid of the Restorative Solution, Harry still felt quite weak and couldn’t really fight back.

“I already told you not to move,” Snape said sternly.

“I don’t want to be down here -”

“You aren’t well. If you get up now, there is a high chance you will lose consciousness again,” he said. “You also ran across broken glass, so I’m not entirely certain you can walk at the moment.”

“Oh. I forgot about that.” Harry glanced down the sofa to his feet, which were poking out from the end of the blanket. One was bandaged, but didn’t feel particularly painful when he wriggled his toes and rolled his ankle in circles. “I feel fine, though.”

“And you can trust me when I say that if you put any weight on that foot, you will most certainly stop feeling that way. You need to allow my healing salves time to work properly.” Snape got out his wand and twirled it between his long fingers. “If you’d rather rest in your own bed, I can levitate you upstairs?”

“God, no!” Harry said quickly, feeling mildly horrified by the prospect of Snape floating him up the staircase. He noticed Draco trying to hide his snickers and looked daggers at the other boy.

“Draco, don’t you have some lines you should be attending to?” Snape said pointedly.

Draco sighed loudly and shuffled from the room. Once the door clicked shut behind him, Snape cast a spell at it and turned to Harry with an attentive look on his face. He winced. Harry knew this expression well - it was the face Snape wore when he was gearing up to have a talk.

“Why were you so angry this morning?"

Cutting right to the chase, Harry thought. He sighed quietly. “I don’t know.”

“How did I guess you might say that?” Snape asked, raising his eyebrows. “I have a sneaking suspicion that this was about something deeper than eating breakfast. Would I be correct?”

“Yeah…”

“And would I be correct in assuming you were intentionally trying to provoke me?”

“Erm…a little, I think.” Harry admitted reluctantly.

“So, you have an issue of some kind,” Snape said, sitting back. “I’ve been doing some thinking while you were asleep, and the only thing I can imagine that caused this morning’s incident was what you found out last night. Explain yourself.”

Harry wrapped his arms around himself and stared at the floor. He supposed that he owed Snape an explanation, considering that he’d slammed the man into a wall and destroyed his kitchen, but Harry barely had the words to explain it all to himself.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he said eventually.

“Do what?”

“This!” Harry gestured between himself and Snape. “I don’t know how to have a proper guardian! Like - I mean, do you think the Dursleys ever asked how I was doing? They barely ever talked to me! And you… it’s just the complete opposite to them, and it’s weird. I’m so used to it just being me, and I don’t know what to expect! How does any of this actually work?”

A look of understanding dawned on Snape’s face. “You’re scared.”

“I am not scared!” he snapped, eyes narrowing. “I’m not some sort of coward!”

“I never said you were.” Snape tilted his head slightly. He looked contemplative. “You know, I’m not entirely certain how to be a guardian to someone myself. I was not expecting to become a guardian to anyone, let alone two people, when I started out this year. I am just as uncertain as you are about what to do.”

Some of the tension dissipated from Harry’s shoulders at those words. It was sort of nice to know he wasn’t alone…

Because even though he would never admit it, Harry was scared. Just a little.

“Would it help if I told you my intentions?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, I certainly won’t mistreat you like your family did, although I hope that was already a given.” Harry nodded slowly as Snape went on. He looked quite unsure of himself. “I suppose I’ll be someone you can rely on, mainly. You’ll have a place to stay, food to eat, clothes to wear, and if you have issues, you can come to me and I’ll do my best to help. That’s how I mean to go about things.”

“Oh. Okay.” That all sounded reasonable to Harry. “And, er - what do I have to do?”

Snape’s lips sharply tugged into a frown. “Nothing.”

Harry stared at him blankly. That simply did not make sense to him. At Privet Drive, Harry was given… well, not a lot, but the little he was given, he had to earn through chores and the like. What did Snape want for all of this?

“Harry, this is not transactional.” Snape’s frown had deepened into a look of concern. “I don’t expect any sort of return for being your guardian, you know. Being cared for isn’t something you have to earn.”

Harry thought it wasn’t a particularly good idea to ask ‘why’ again, so kept quiet. Snape seemed to read into what he was saying through his silence, though, and a look of sadness fell over his face. Harry squirmed uncomfortably, not knowing what to do or say, and wondered when he’d finally learnt to read Snape’s expressions.

“You’ll come to understand eventually,” Snape said. It seemed like he was telling himself that more than Harry, somehow. “If you must do something for me in return, I suppose you could actually do what I tell you to do when I ask.”

“Er - right.” Harry grimaced at the thinly veiled reminder of that morning.

“But it’s not as though I’m going to throw you out for disobeying me,” Snape added quickly. “No matter what you do, that will not happen. You are stuck with me, unfortunately for you.”

Harry hesitated, then asked, “No offence or anything, but - well, how do I know you mean that? Like how do I know for sure you’re not going to flip right back to the way you were before?”

“You don’t know that. You have to just trust me.” Snape pursed his lips. “But I can tell you it is a guarantee that circumstances will not return to the way things once were because my understanding of you as a person has fundamentally changed. The way I previously treated you was because I thought you were arrogant, spoiled, and generally egotistical because of your fame and because of who your father was. I have gotten to know you better, and I’ve realised none of those things are true - quite the opposite, in fact. I won’t go backwards.”

“But I can’t know that for sure,” Harry said again.

“Then you’ll simply have to wait and see,” Snape said, holding his hands out. “I understand these things can’t happen overnight. But Harry - think about what you have experienced since I found out about your home life. You have made me lose my temper a few times since then - have things gone back to the way they once were? Think about it.”

Harry obeyed. He thought first about the time he’d punched Draco. Snape had certainly lost his temper then; he’d been visibly furious, and had shouted a fair bit, but he hadn’t actually reverted back to the regular Snape that Harry knew from Hogwarts. And earlier, he’d been angry… but it was because he wanted Harry to eat breakfast, and he was being completely ridiculous about it, even though he knew it was important to Snape.

And even though Harry had shoved him across the room and shattered his windows, he’d given Harry potions to deal with the magical exhaustion after he’d fainted. That was weird - his relatives had never done anything like that. They wouldn’t care if Harry fainted. It had happened a few times at Privet Drive, when they hadn’t fed him enough, and Petunia normally snapped at him for it when he finally came back to consciousness.

But Harry was being given potions, and he’d somehow gotten from the floor to the sofa. Snape must have moved him here, and he’d even put a blanket over Harry. The Dursleys never would have cared enough to do something like that, but Snape did without him having to ask. He looked after Harry, even when he was being a complete pain in the backside…

“I’ll work on trusting you,” Harry said finally. “I… well, I’d like for that to happen.”

“I’m glad.” Snape nodded rather briskly. “But if you’re going to trust me, you also need to trust my intentions. I do not make rules for the fun of it, Harry. Even when you’re upset, you cannot weaponize your health to anger me. That’s dangerous.”

“I wasn’t weaponsing it!” Harry said exasperatedly. “I really was upset, you know, and that doesn’t do wonders for my appetite. Er - I guess making you angry was just a fortunate side effect…”

“If you’re feeling too upset to eat in future, perhaps it would be better to actually talk about these things,” Snape said, with a slight sarcastic bite to his words. “I feel very strongly about you missing meals. Don’t you dare do anything like that ever again, do you understand me? I will not be nearly this lenient again.”

Harry nodded vigorously. Snape’s voice had gone very low, and his tone was stern and forbidding. “I won’t.”

“Good.” Snape waved his wand, and a tray and bowl flew in through the living room door and landed on Harry’s lap. He looked down, and found a bowl of soup awaiting him. “Then I suppose this morning’s disagreements will not be repeated with lunch?”

“Definitely not.”

Harry tucked in with vigour, hoping to prove a point and make up for being so dreadful that morning. As he ate, Harry realised with a jolt that he was really quite hungry. He hadn’t even realised.

Harry clenched his hand into fists, fighting back a rising wave of shame. Even though part of him knew that the tangled knots of anxiety and worry that seemed to twist his stomach were all in his head, it never felt that way in the moment. He hated feeling like his brain was lying to him. It had been useful once upon a time - since Harry experienced such extended periods of missed meals at Privet Drive, he supposed his mind got used to tricking his body into thinking he wasn’t as hungry as it was, since there wasn’t much point to his body telling him he was hungry if there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

But missing meals at Privet Drive almost always happened when Harry was in trouble, so he thought his mind also must have started sticking together feelings of worry with not eating, even now he was away from there. Harry rolled his eyes - he had a funny feeling that Snape’s stupid book would have the answers to whatever was going on here. That thought irked him slightly.

It was only when Harry had finished every last drop of soup that Snape started speaking again. He banished the bowl and tray and looked at Harry closely. “I believe I underestimated the severity of your food issues.”

Harry tensed. “I don’t have -”

“Can we skip the protests please?” Snape asked exasperatedly, pressing his fingers to his temples. “We both know that you do. Let’s not bother bickering over phrasing.”

Harry sighed and didn’t respond while Snape continued to size him up. He looked strangely hesitant about something, and it filled Harry with a feeling of foreboding.

“Harry… after I returned from Surrey yesterday, I went into your bedroom to fetch something of Draco’s, and I noticed something in your trunk. There were some ants that seemed to be attracted to it. I looked for the source of their interest, and discovered, ah…”

“Oh.” Harry ducked his head, his cheeks aflame as he realised what Snape was referring to. “I - that’s - oh no.”

The panic rushed back, almost as sharp and potent as it had been that morning after the accidental magic. He could not believe Snape had found his food stash! The Dursleys had never managed to - Harry's loose floorboard was nearly foolproof - but there weren't any good hiding spots in his room at Spinner's End. He'd been forced to hide the food in the bottom of his trunk…

But Harry hadn't been eating out of it as often as he usually did because he'd actually been given full meals three times a day. He'd almost forgotten the food was in the bottom of his trunk entirely, so some of it had definitely gone off. Harry cringed - Snape was probably furious he'd been stealing out of his cupboards, too! He'd thought Snape wouldn't notice, he'd thought he was being sneaky…

After a moment to try and calm the fierce mortification and panic he was feeling, Harry chanced a look up at Snape to scan his face for any signs of anger, but was surprised to see he looked… lost. Almost overwhelmed. When his eyes met Harry's, and Snape noticed the fear that was almost certainly written all over his face, that overwhelmed look turned into one of despair. After a moment, Snape actually leaned forwards and buried his face in his hands, long, greasy hair sliding forward to hide his face from view. Harry, who felt rather alarmed, tried and failed to come up with the right words.

"Um… sir?" Snape did not move. Harry was so worried he even tried, "Severus?"

Still nothing. Was he angry? What was Snape even doing? Harry had never, ever seen him like this. Should Harry get Draco or something?

“Er - sorry about the ants.”

This apparently was not the right thing to say, as Snape abruptly rose to his feet and strode from the room without a word. Harry remained in place, unsure of what to do. Was he supposed to follow?

Before he had to make up his mind, Snape returned, face rather haggard. He was holding a plastic bag, which he placed down on the ground next to Harry.

“This is yours,” he said wearily. “Do with this what you like - I’m not going to go looking for it. All I ask is that if you open something, you eat it or reseal it so you don’t attract pests.”

Harry leaned over and peered into the bag. He caught sight of a few things lying on top - a few individually wrapped granola bars, and a packet of digestives. It was all food. He felt an odd lump rise into his throat. “Thank you.”

Snape didn’t respond. He sat heavily back in his chair and rubbed his forehead. He looked utterly exhausted.

“It’s not that I think you’re going to starve me or anything!” Harry said quickly, hoping Snape hadn’t gotten the wrong idea. "I don't think that at all, I promise! I mean - I think the opposite, even. Like you're properly obsessed with me eating. Completely mental about it, actually…"

Some of the tension faded from Snape's face, and his lips quirked in a way that could almost be characterised as amusement, so Harry pressed on.

“I just - I like knowing I have something there. Just in case. It’s mostly stuff I saved up at Hogwarts for when I was staying with my aunt and uncle, so…”

“When I was in Petunia’s mind, I saw something about a cat flap?” Snape’s brows knitted together in confusion. “Where your room was. She put soup through it, if I recall correctly? Legilimency can be rather vague at times, so could you clarify what that was about?”

Harry grimaced. “Er - that’s right. Last summer was… yeah. They had me locked in my room without that much to eat until the Weasleys broke me out. And that’s why I have the food, in case it all went wrong again this year.”

“What do you mean, they broke you out?” Snape asked.

“Er - Uncle Vernon had Hedwig locked up so I couldn’t write to anyone, which they thought was weird, so Fred, George and Ron nicked their dad’s car and flew it to Surrey in the middle of the night to rescue me,” Harry admitted.

“Of course they did.” Snape shook his head, but he was actually smiling slightly. “This is the Ford Anglia?”

“Yeah.” Harry winced slightly, remembering that Snape had been the one to find him and Ron after they flew it into the Whomping Willow. While they loudly discussed how they were hoping he’d been sacked, naturally.

“I suppose I can’t condemn them too harshly for it,” Snape admitted begrudgingly. “Someone ought to have gotten you from Privet Drive in that situation, although perhaps through more, ah - traditional routes.”

Harry, who had quite enjoyed the ride in the flying car, chose not to respond.

“Just know my kitchen is always open to you,” Snape said, gesturing to the door. “You are completely free to take food from the cupboards whenever you feel like it. As a matter of fact, I encourage it.”

“Okay,” Harry said softly.

“We’ll make this work,” Snape said. Harry again got the impression he was speaking to himself. “We’ll find a way to manage this.”

I hope so, Harry thought.

“Um…are we done, then?” he asked hesitantly. Snape still looked so tired, and it was unnerving him.

“I suppose, but I want you to stay there and rest,” Snape instructed. “I can give you potions, but the main thing that aids recovery from magical exhaustion is time.”

“Okay.” Snape sat back in his armchair and reopened his book. Harry frowned. “You don’t have to hover.”

“I am not hovering.” Snape gestured to the book and didn’t look up. “I’m reading.”

“Can’t you read somewhere else?” Harry said grumpily, shuffling back into the sofa to try and get comfortable.

“Considering the fact that this is my house, I can go and do what I please,” Snape said, shooting him a pointed look. “But yes, I am also keeping an eye on you. I’m sure you’ll suffer through.”

Harry sighed loudly. “Can’t I at least have a book or something, then?”

“No. You’re meant to be resting. Shut your eyes, or sit there quietly.”

Harry crossed his arms and stared at the ceiling. “This is boring.”

“If not for the lack of blonde hair, I’d be fairly certain Draco Malfoy was sitting in front of me right now.” Snape said, turning the page of his book while rhymically tapping the cover with one finger.

“That’s right, Draco,” Harry said quickly. “Can’t I play chess with him or something? That’s not really strenuous.”

“Considering how violently competitive the two of you are with one another, I actually think that it would be incredibly strenuous.” Snape rolled his eyes. “Although I find it interesting that you just suggested spending time with Draco.”

Harry made a face. He had, hadn’t he? Had Harry been infected with a brain parasite or something? Since when was spending time with that prat something he actually considered to be fun?! Maybe staring at the ceiling would be a better way to spend his time if this was what he was reduced to…

But after about another ten minutes of doing nothing, Harry was willing to have a friendly chat and a cuppa with Voldemort himself to relieve his boredom. He huffed and stared at Snape. “It’s not working. Didn’t you say I’ve been asleep for three hours already? I’ve already been resting.”

“Not good enough,” Snape said, still steadfastly refusing to look up from his book. “You know, if you don’t recover from this quickly, I might have to rescind my permission for you to stay in Diagon Alley with the young Mr Weasley and his family on the thirty-first of August.”

Harry jolted upright, his mouth agape. “You’re - I’m doing what?”

“You’re lying down.” Snape glared at Harry and sharply pushed him back onto the sofa. “And if you do enough of that, then you will be allowed to stay at the Leaky Cauldron with the Weasleys on the last day of the holidays. They will escort you to King’s Cross.”

Harry beamed, thrilled beyond words. “I thought you’d never agree to let me do that!”

“How was I supposed to agree to something that you didn’t ask about?” Snape looked at him disapprovingly. “I had no knowledge about your desire to participate in this activity until I received a rather strongly-worded letter from Molly Weasley informing me that I should, in fact, allow you to see your friends instead of being strict for the sake of it. A confusing letter to receive, I must say, considering I had never actually banned you from doing this.”

“I thought you’d say no,” Harry mumbled, feeling his cheeks burn. He did appreciate Mrs Weasley standing up for him, but he felt a little embarrassed since Snape hadn’t actually done anything wrong. It was his fault, though.

“While I can utilise Legilimency, I do not generally make a habit of reading minds,” Snape said, putting his book to one side and crossing his arms. “Therefore, if you want something, you need to actually ask for it. The worst that I can do is say no.”

“Um…okay, then.” Harry smiled slyly. “Can I play chess?”

“No.” Snape sighed. “But I will play chess with you this evening if you rest now.”

“Fine…I’ll try.”

Harry shifted slightly and smiled to himself. This morning had been awful, and stressful, and emotionally taxing, but he certainly felt a hell of a lot better than he had earlier right now. Even though it had been really difficult, talking all of that through with Snape had actually helped. Harry had been so worried and mixed up, and some of it felt a little clearer now that they’d talked about the guardianship situation.

And the food, and being allowed to stay with the Weasleys? It was kindness without visible strings, like Snape had promised. Nice things that Harry didn’t even expect to have that Snape was giving to him. Maybe… maybe he could try and just accept that Snape was doing something nice for him without worrying. Perhaps he didn’t have to assume maliciousness was lurking around every corner. Sometimes, people were capable of just being decent.

And that included Snape.

Bored of the ceiling, he decided to at last try and shut his eyes. Harry still thought it was a useless effort. He really just couldn’t fall asleep in the middle of the day, after all…

He drifted off five minutes later.