kbinnz - Harry's New Home

Harry sighed in contentment. Professor Snape hadn't made him do extra chores in order to come with him. Oh, he'd told Harry that if he misbehaved, he wouldn't get the treat, but Harry figured that went without saying. And then, even when he'd driven the professor mad with his excited babbling and dashing to and fro, his professor had still given him the longed-for treat. Yes, it had been worth waiting for, not only for the sheer ambrosial taste of the ice cream, but also for the fact that he was sitting here enjoying it with his professor.

It was only after he'd scraped up the last of the melted ice cream that he turned to his professor with a half-reproachful, half-amused question. "You wouldn't really have stuck me to the chair, would you?"

'I most certainly would have," Snape informed the brat haughtily. "When have I ever not kept my word?"

"But тАУ" Harry started to protest, just for form's sake, as he thought having his bum stuck to a chair a very mild chastisement indeed, compared to the punishments the Dursleys had often applied to that same area, but then an idea struck him and his voice trailed off.

Snape stared at the boy in some concern. The little monster, now properly glutted with ice cream, had begun to whine about something, only to go mute as his eyes focused on something internal. Had Snape's threat brought back some horrible atrocity the Dursleys had committed? He tried to imagine what they could have done that threatening to Stick the boy in one place could have evokedтАж Perhaps they had forced him to sit in a chair for hours or days, not permitting him to get up to attend to necessary needs? Perhaps they had bound him in place by Muggle means? PerhapsтАж Snape found he had bent his spoon in two, and now Harry was staring at him in astonishment.

Harry's mind worked quickly. A Sticking charm! Of course! That was it. He and his friends had been struggling to think of a way to get Quirrell's turban off for days now but they'd only come up with silly ideas that even Ron admitted were farfetched тАУ floating hooks, bribing Peeves, that sort of thing. But Quirrell was in the Infirmary, which meant he must be in bed, though they had heard from a Hufflepuff who'd had to see Madame Pomfrey about a hex gone awry that the man had kept his turban on even under those circumstances. Still, if they Stuck his turban to his bed, then managed to get him to jump upтАж Harry grinned to himself. That could work!

Now all he needed to do was to convince his professor to teach him the spell. He turned to the man, only to find him with the most horrible glower on his face and his spoon twisted like a pretzel in his hands. Harry gulped. Had he so provoked the man?

"I'm sorry," he said automatically, then shrank further in his chair when a new spasm of fury crossed the man's countenance.

Snape barely managed to avoid chucking the spoon at the wall. Still apologizing! Always assuming he was at fault! Those bastard Muggles had much to answer for. He calmed himself by thinking of what the Marauders' reaction would be when he told them this story. Remus had started to idly wonder what the Dursleys would do if they received word they'd won a trip to the forests of Romania and whether dragon handlers were ever short on food for their charges. Sirius had countered by suggesting that in the really deep woods of Transylvania, there were things that even dragons were scared ofтАж not to mention that werewolves could run free in those forests, and of course dragons, being creatures of the sky, could easily pop up where they were least expected, particularly if a highly motivated young dragon handler showed them the way. Remus had looked intensely thoughtful and mentioned that Muggles were beginning to think of Transylvania as a trendy new vacation spot.

At the time, Snape had reminded them that he had no intention of letting the Muggles off so easily, and the idea had been dropped, but now he was wondering if he had been too hasty. A mauling by a werewolf followed by draconic incineration sounded increasingly appealing.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he snapped at the boy, reaching over and rather roughly wiping smeared ice cream from his face. He refused to admit that he needed to touch the boy for his own reassurance. It was merely that he was tired of looking at the chocolate sauce that seemed to coat the brat's features.

Harry endured the man's gentle ministrations, fighting down his own sense of delight. He had long ago realized that however much Aunt Petunia might fuss over Dudley, wiping his chin and cutting his meat and kissing his boo-boos, he was never going to get the same treatment. But nowтАж Okay, there was no way he could accept the kissed boo-boos (well, except from Auntie Molly) or the cut-up meat, but if his professor wanted to hide his caring gesture under a grumbling monologue about "messy little boys", he was more than willing to tolerate it.

He did his part by squirming away тАУ carefully waiting until he judged the professor was pretty much finished anyway тАУ and protesting. "Pr'fessor! I'm eleven! I'm not a baby!"

"If you used your napkin properly, then you would not be subject to such indignities," Snape retorted, unrepentant. "Now, what was it that in our conversation that so upset you?"

Harry blinked. Upset him? "Erm, I'm not sure what you mean," he replied in confusion.

Snape ground his teeth. Obviously the boy was too traumatized to speak of the incident. Or perhaps he had just had a dissociative moment and truly didn't remember? Or was it simply that he was too embarrassed to reveal how shabbily he'd been treated? He well remembered the hot shame he had felt at the thought of anyone seeing his own welts and cuts. He'd often endured several days of agony at the beginning of each school term, sitting through classes on a raw, well strapped backside, rather than having to admit the truth to Poppy so he could be treated.

"Potter, you must learn that your relatives' treatment of you was appalling and unnatural. You have no reason to be ashamed of what happened."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Okayyyy," he agreed slowly.

"Do not try to placate me, Potter!" Snape flared, newly incensed at the brat's automatic acquiescence. "You will tell me what so upset you when I mentioned a Sticking hex."

"Oh!" Harry's eyes lit up with comprehension. "I wasn't upset, Pr'fessor. I was just thinkin' that тАУ" abruptly he realized that he could hardly tell his professor about their plans to investigate the Mystery of Qurrell's Turban; he needed to wait until they'd solved it, and then he'd have plenty of interesting things to discsuss with the man. "- erm, that it'd be a good spell to use during a duel."

Snape blinked, then blinked again. "Oh?"

"Yeah!" Now that he thought about it, Harry warmed to the idea. "I mean, if you Stuck your opponent's feet down, he couldn't dodge, right?"

"An excellent point," Snape allowed, privately impressed. Perhaps those extra lessons really were paying off.

Harry gave him a sly look. "It was perspicacious, wasn't it?"

Now Snape was even more surprised тАУ the brat had actually been paying attention to him? "I suppose," he admitted off-handedly. It wouldn't do to let the little monster get a swelled head. "Though you can hardly expect тАУ or want - to receive a chocolate frog immediately after ingesting that mountain of ice cream."

"No, that's okay," Harry agreed, "but could you show me the spell instead?"

Snape considered. The hext had enormous potential for mischief, but Harry hadn't displayed a prankster streak, nor was he currently enmeshed in any juvenile vendettas at presentтАж And the boy did deserve a reward тАУ not that Snape had any intention of admitting that to him.

"Oh, all right," he grumbled, casting a Muffliato for privacy. "Now, watch me closelyтАж" He demonstrated the spell, somewhat disconcerted by the way the boy's eyes glowed as he watched with an almost unnerving concentration. Snape fought down his reservations. It was only a Sticking hex, after all тАУ even Potter could hardly get into trouble with something so benign.