kbinnz - Harry's New Home

So what did that leave? The boy had no trinkets or hobbies which could be temporarily forbidden. Lines and essays might work, Snape mused, but he would need to make a foray to the toy stores of Diagon Alley to find some things that the child liked. Only in order to withhold them as punishment, he reassured himself hastily. It wasn't as if he were desperate to make Potter happy, for Merlin's sake.

Then again, considering how abysmally ignorant the brat was about all of Wizarding society, he probably should take him on regular outings to various Wizard destinations, such as Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. Then, when the little monster misbehaved, he could be denied the excursion. That should be worth a few tears. Snape smirked in satisfaction. Never let it be said he couldn't find ways to torture a Potter, even if it did mean a further curtailment of his own free time.

"Honest, sir!" Harry gulped. "You won't need to belt me hardly at all."

"Did you not hear what I said before?" Snape exclaimed angrily. "Irritating child! You will learn to pay attention to me."

"But тАУ but тАУ" Harry gazed at him in confusion. "What did I do?"

"I told you that I will not mistreat you." Again, Snape silently added. "You will not be beaten with a belt, Potter."

Oddly, Harry did not look reassured. "Please, sir, not the cane."

Oh, for Merlin's sake. He really needed to get the boy some adequate spectacles. "Come with me," Snape ordered, yanking Harry up and pulling him down the corridor to the door into his classroom.

Harry's heart thudded wildly. Why had he even bothered to ask such a ridiculous thing? After the professor had been nice enough to promise that no one else would hit him, and that he could run and duck and even protect himself from bullies, what had Harry done? Had he thanked Snape? Or promised to make him proud? No, he had sniveled about not wanting to be whacked with the cane. It would serve him right if the professor walloped him for his ingratitude and cheek.

In fact, Harry saw with a sinking feeling, that was precisely what was about to happen. They had come through a hidden door and were now standing in the professor's classroom, right next to his desk. This was just where Harry had nearly been caned a few nights ago; this time he doubted he'd have the same miraculous escape.

Well, you'll just have to take it, he told himself stoutly. At least he no longer had to worry about holding still and keeping quiet. The professor was a lot nicer than Uncle Vernon in that regard.

Snape dug under his workstation and pulled out his polished cedar cauldron stirrer. "Come here, Potter!" he ordered.

Harry forced himself to move forward, trying not to look at the cane clutched in the professor's hand.

"Do you know what this is?" Snape demanded.

"Yessir," Harry gulped, eyes averted. " 'S a cane, sir."

"Idiot. Do you think canes have inscriptions on them, commending me for winning the 143rd annual All-Counties Potion Making Competition?" Snape demanded, brandishing the stirrer under the little simpleton's nose. "This is a charmed cauldron stirrer, Potter. It is both rare and expensive and is not to be abused by bringing it into contact with annoying children's posteriors."

Harry blinked and squinted at the stirrer. "But тАУ but тАУ you meanтАж" He looked up at Snape, an incredulous grin breaking over his face. "You're not going to hit me with it?"

The professor rolled his eyes. "No, Potter," Snape drawled sarcastically, "I went to all the trouble of winning this award just so I could break it across your impervious backside."

Harry snickered. The professor was kind of funny, once you got used to his sense of humor.

Great. Now the little brat thought he was a comedian. "Stop that ridiculous sniggering, Potter. It wasn't that funny."

"Yessir," Harry replied cheerfully.

Snape glowered at him. So with the threat of the cane removed, suddenly the boy was all smiles, was he? It would do him no harm to realize that he wasn't completely immune to the only form of discipline he'd ever known. "You will find that I have no need to rely on vicious beatings to punish you, Potter." Since when does any Slytherin worth his salt have to rely on brute force? "But you will feel my hand if you violate my two most important rules." He paused impressively. "You will not тАУ" he paused. What was the little wretch supremely unlikely to do? The last thing Snape wanted was to have to carry out the threat he was about to make. He eyed the now-apprehensive child in front of him. "- deliberately disobey me тАУ" that should work; the boy had been beaten into complete submission by the Muggles. "- or place yourself in jeopardy." that was another good one. The boy was timid to the point of catatonia; he wasn't about to put himself in harm's way. But now Snape had gone on the record as placing a high value on the brat's life, thereby helping to overcome the decade's worth of disparagement and undermining from the Dursleys and their penchant for the term "worthless freak".

Harry's eyes were wide. "I won't!" he swore.

No kidding. "See that you don't," Snape said darkly, "or your backside will regret it."

"But those are the only things I'll get hit for?" Harry asked uncertainly. "Not for other stuff?"

"Such as?"

Harry shrugged. "Not doing well on my homework. Being cheeky. Breaking something. Not listening."

"You may think I have nothing better to do with my time than obsess over your petty misdeeds, Potter, but I assure you I do," Snape said austerely. "I have no intention of spending every waking moment stalking you, watching for minor indiscretions, and then striking you for them. I have already told you what actions are sufficiently egregious for me to resort to corporal punishment. See that you avoid those actions and you need not worry." He pretended not to see the boy's expression of incredulous joy.

"And if someone tries to hurt me, I can hurt them?" Harry sought clarification.

"You are not only permitted to do so, Potter. I expect you to do so. You are absolutely forbidden from sitting there like a lump waiting for someone else тАУ probably me! тАУ to come rescue you. I have enough to do, thank you very much. If someone is trying to hurt you, then get off your lazy bum and stop them. Need I make it any clearer to you?" Snape's Slytherin instincts were abuzz. If and when Voldemort returned, he would surely go after this child. By that time, Snape wanted Harry to be completely comfortable with the idea of fighting back тАУ or even launching a preemptive strike.

Harry grinned wolfishly, and Snape was strangely heartened to see a glimpse of his father. Of course, the last time he'd seen that expression, Potter Senior and Black had been stalking him. "What are you thinking?" he asked the child, curious.

"Just that I'd really like to go back and visit my cousin, sir," Harry replied with a glint in his eye.

"I told you you were not to start anything," Snape cautioned him, but he was relieved to learn that the boy's spirit had not been entirely quashed.

"Oh, that's okay. As soon as he sees me, Dudley's sure to try something," Harry said confidently. Then his face fell. "But he'd probably have a bunch of his friends with him. He usually did for 'Harry hunting'."

Snape's eyes narrowed at the term, and any thoughts he might have had of sparing the Dursley whelp from his vengeance went out the window. "So they would gang up on you?"

Harry nodded despondently. "There were usually three or four. I couldn't hope to fight them all at once."

Dear Lord Voldemort, Snape's mind busily penned an imaginary letter, I am writing on behalf of the Boy Who Lived. Would you please be kind enough to refrain from sending more than one Death Eater at a time after him? It is quite unsporting of you to gang up on the boy. "Potter," he said sternly, "you must learn to defend yourself against superior odds. To do anything else is foolishly unrealistic."