After All TBGC
Updated: November 19, 2004
Summer I / Part
A:
July 1, 1990
“But, he
doesn’t like me!” Harry tried to pull away from Minerva, who held onto his hand
more firmly.
Minerva sighed
deeply and continued to trudge towards the dungeon, “Severus doesn’t like
anyone, Harry.”
He gave up
trying to make a break for it and pouted instead, “Then why do I have to stay with
him? Why can’t I go with you?”
Minerva
stopped and turned around, kneeling in front of the boy. During the school year she and
the other teachers had taken care of him. They had attempted to keep it a secret at first,
but when he’d realised that he wasn’t going to be starved or locked up for
breaking rules, he had begun doing so frequently, so it had become widely spread knowledge
that Harry Potter was a resident of Hogwarts.
That in itself
would not have been such a great tragedy, for the most part the student body was as quick
to dote on the short nine year old as the faculty, however, the Weasley twins had started
their first year and they saw it as an opportunity to ‘corrupt the innocent.’
Despite the best efforts of the staff, Harry now knew as many secret passages as any of
the professors and probably more. He also knew where the kitchens were located, which had
led to more stomach troubles than Minerva cared to account for. It had become a full time
task keeping track of the little fiend.
The
transformation from shy, unsure, and practically mute, to outgoing, rambunctious, and
occasionally talkative had taken surprisingly little time and had nearly as many negative
repercussions as it did positive; not that she didn’t adore him now that he spoke his
mind freely and did what he liked when he liked it, but it was tiresome and she and the
rest of the staff were looking forward to nearly two months of holidays. So, while they
were gone, it had been arranged by Dumbledore (and only Merlin knew how) that Snape would
watch over him. An extra room had been made adjacent to Snape’s quarters in the
dungeons and it was even arranged for Snape’s nephew, Draco Malfoy, to come spend two
weeks at the school as well. Dumbledore had thought it would be ‘splendid’ for
Harry to interact with a child his own age and somehow (again, only Merlin knew how)
convinced Lucius Malfoy and Severus both to agree to it.
Of course, the
young Malfoy would not be arriving for a month and a half, and Harry was not very eager to
be left alone for six weeks with a man the whole school kept referring to as ‘The
Greasy Git.’
She sighed at
the boy’s pouting lip. He was getting too good at that, if he wasn’t careful he’d
be sorted into Slytherin. “Hogwarts is the safest place for you, Harry.”
He looked
down, shoulders slumped, “Then why can’t you stay here?”
“I have
to go home and see my family, Harry, I miss them.” She brushed a few errant hairs
behind his ear and ignored them when they popped back out, “It won’t be so bad.
It’s only two months, that’s eight weeks, and you’ll have company for two
of them. Besides, Harry, Professor Dumbledore and Hagrid will be here most of the time and
you can visit them whenever you like.”
“Why can’t
I stay with one of them?”
Minerva stood
up and took Harry’s hand again, “We’ve been through this. There’s no
telling when Dumbledore may be called away, and Hagrid is too busy tending the forest and
animals; it’s safer for you to be somewhere where there will be someone to watch you
at all times. Come along.”
He didn’t
argue anymore, just walked a step or two behind, as though to remind her that he was being
forced. He gave her one last pleading look when they stopped at Snape’s door, but she
forced herself not to give in. It would have been so much more pleasant to see him smile
before she left.
When the door
opened, Minerva was not in the least pleased to see that Severus looked about as pleased
as Harry with the arrangements. His sneer was deeper than normal, and his posture was just
short of looking sulky. Minerva knelt down and Harry threw his arms around her neck,
hugging her tightly. “I’ll miss you, Professor.”
She smiled
into his hair, “And I’ll miss you, Harry. Now get settled in and I’ll be
back before you know it.”
He looked up
at Snape as she walked away. His summer was going to be miserable. Of course, that was
assuming he made it out alive; Snape already looked as though he wanted to strangle Harry.
“Are you going to stand there all evening, or do you to intend actually come in?”
Harry fought
the urge to say that he would rather just stand there, but decided against it as Snape
stepped aside to allow him passing room. He didn’t want to tempt fate this early in
his two month ‘sentence’. He had spent the entire year avoiding Snape. He’d
sat as far from him as possible during breakfast, lunch, and dinner; he’d run entire
circles around the school to avoid the dungeons; he’d even volunteered to help
Professor Trelawney categorise her new inventory of herbs rather than be babysat by the
potion’s master.
Snape’s
living room hadn’t changed at all; the sofa pillow and blanket were still rumpled in
the exact same way they had been the day Professor McGonagall had picked him up. The only
difference Harry could find was that the wall to the right, which had been blank save for
the fireplace, now had a door on it as well. Snape didn’t tell Harry that this was
his room. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all before going back to his desk and
sitting down.
Harry waited
in silence for nearly a full minute before Snape finally looked up, obviously irritated.
“I don’t suppose you brought something to amuse yourself with?” Harry
nodded slowly, not sure exactly what Snape was referring to, but thinking that any other
answer would have been unacceptable.
“Then go
to your room and do it. I don’t expect to
see you until supper.”
He nodded,
“Yes, Professor,” and went into the room without waiting for further
instructions.
It was larger
than his other bedroom, which was connected to McGonagall’s, but it was also more
barren. The walls were dark grey and there were no windows, just a light hanging on the
ceiling, a lamp on either side of his bed, and one on his desk. Even the quidditch poster
Madame Hooch had given him for Christmas looked incredibly small on the large expanse of
wall across from his bed.
He checked in
the wardrobe and found that the elves had already moved everything into it, all hanging or
nicely folded. His desk, too, was neatly filled with the quills and pencils and parchment
that he amused himself with when he was bored, and the books he had checked out from the
library to read over the holidays were squared away on one corner.
Sitting on the
large bed, he was surprised to find it fairly springy, though not necessarily soft. He lay
down, crossing his arms over his head, and stared at the ceiling. It was going to be a
very long summer.
____________________
Harry woke the next morning feeling more tired than when he had fell asleep, which seemed
strange as he had actually been in bed for several hours more than usual. He opened his
eyes thinking of telling Professor McGonagall about the really strange dream he’d had
that night about a flying motorcycle (he hadn’t had that one since he’d come to
Hogwarts), but his unfamiliar surrounding quickly reminded him that he wasn’t in his
room in Gryffindor tower and McGonagall wasn’t there to talk to.
He had to deal
with Snape.
The floor
under his feet was colder than it was in the tower, as there were no windows to warm up
the stone in the early morning light. He hurried over to his wardrobe and dug around for
socks first, then his pants and a shirt. Harry looked out into the room for Snape and
spotted him sitting at his desk in the living room, scratching notes on something.
Biting his
lower lip, Harry looked around for a table, but couldn’t see one. He was about to say
something when Snape suddenly spoke, “Breakfast was over an hour ago. I suggest that
in the future you attempt to wake up before
Harry scowled
at the dismissive tone. Snape hadn’t even bothered to look at him, but he said
nothing as he closed the door quietly behind him.
“Did you make your bed?”
Harry frowned,
“The house elves...”
“That’s
no reason to be lazy, Potter. Go and make your bed.”
With a huff,
Harry went back into his room, nearly slamming the door in his annoyance. What did it
matter if he made the bed? The house elves were just going to come and remake it after
him, they always did. And why did Snape have to be so… so mean this early in the
morning? It wasn’t even tea time, yet and the man was already in a foul temper.
After making
sure the corners were tucked in, he flattened the wrinkles and sat in the desk chair,
trying to decide what he should do. He desperately wanted to go see Hagrid or Professor
Dumbledore, but didn’t want to be a bother. Perhaps he could simply explore the
castle, or try and break into the broom shed by the field. He envied the players flying
high above the stands and wished very much that he could try, but McGonagall had said he
was too young and that he would have to wait till his first year.
Broom shed it
was. Swinging his legs over the side, he opened the door and made a beeline across the
living room. The last thing he wanted was for Snape to tell him he couldn’t go out.
He’d absolutely die of boredom if he couldn’t go out. Either that or Snape would
get annoyed with him and kill him.
“Potter.”
Harry stopped
with his hand on the knob. “Yes, Professor?”
“Are
there clothes on the floor?” For a moment, Harry looked around the living room in
confusion. “In your bedroom, Potter. Did you leave the clothes on the floor? I will
not tolerate disorder.”
Harry didn’t
bother say that the house elves would pick them up, whether they were on the floor or not.
He simply walked back into his room, picked up his dirty pants and shirt and set them on
top of his made bed. He gave the room one last inspection, pushing his desk chair in and
squaring the papers for good measure, before he came out again. “Is there anything
else, Professor?”
“Have you
bathed?” Oh for the love of… “Despite what you may think, tidiness does
extend to personal hygiene. For future reference you should bathe, brush your teeth, and
put on fresh clothing every morning. You are to make your bed and keep your floor clean.
Are we clear?”
He still hadn’t
looked up. That, more anything, aggravated Harry. The man wouldn’t even acknowledge
him and he was still giving him a lecture!
Swallowing his anger, Harry nodded, “Yes, Professor.”
“Good.
You’re dismissed.”
Dismissed?!
This wasn’t a class, he wasn’t a student, Snape had no right to ‘dismiss’
him! Harry clenched his teeth before going into his room, taking a book from his desk and
throwing himself on the living room couch to read. He saw Snape look at him from the
corner of his eye, so he stretched out, putting his feet on the sofa and kicking a few
pillows onto the floor.
If Snape
insisted on treating him like an annoying child, he decided, he’d do his best to
behave like one.
-tbc-