kbinnz - Harry's New Home

Scrubbed pink, Harry slid into his seat at the small table in Snape's kitchen, under the professor's stern glance. "G'morning, sir," Harry said, remembering his manners a bit belatedly.

"Good morning," the professor replied. A plate of eggs, toast, and fruit appeared with a pop, and Harry smiled happily. "You will be sure to finish your milk, Mr Potter, and this vial of dietary supplementation as well. It will make up for some of theтАжnutritional inadequacies of your previous life."

Harry gave the potion a dubious look, but he figured it was safer not to protest. He remembered how Mr Weasley had given him extra vegetables last night, and he decided it was a dad thing.

"You will take a daily dose of this potion," Snape continued, pleased that Harry was too busy forking eggs into his mouth to protest, "until Madame Pomfrey informs me that you have caught up to your age group on the growth charts."

"Does it taste awful?" Harry inquired with a sigh.

"Undoubtedly." Snape smirked as the boy groaned. This was quite fun. It wasn't even his first class and he had already tormented a child. "As I am certain you have not so much as begun the lines you owe me тАУ" Harry's guilty blush confirmed his suspicions "- you will report for detention with me this afternoon, immediately after your last class."

"Awwww," Harry protested. "It's Friday!"

"And you have detention," Snape informed him heartlessly. "Would you care to try for Saturday detention as well?"

Harry grumped and stabbed moodily at his fruit.

"And just what thrilling plans did you have for the afternoon?" Snape sneered, irritated at the boy's sulking.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno. I just figured Ron an' me would тАУ"

"Idiot. Have you forgotten that Mr Weasley and his brothers are being summoned to the Burrow immediately after classes?"

"Oh." Harry thought for a moment. If Ron weren't around, there really wasn't much to do. Granger would probably try to convince him to study with her, and though Dean and Seamus might include him in their plans, it was just as likely that they wouldn't.

He really did need to work on the lines, and it would be better to do it here where he could get the professor's help with his handwriting than back in the Common Room where everyone would see he was being punished. Given Ron's absence, the professor was right: this really was the best time to do the assigned lines, when he wouldn't be missing out on anything else.

Harry glanced over at the professor. Here the man had selected the perfect opportunity for Harry to get his punishment over with, when he wouldn't have to forego other, more enjoyable activities, and Harry was whining at him. What's more, Professor Snape had been awfully nice about his not finishing the lines quickly. Plenty of other teachers would have gotten cross if he hadn't handed them in the very next day. "'M sorry," he mumbled guiltily.

"Hmf." Snape, still scowling, didn't even look up from where he was perusing a potions journal as he sipped his morning coffee.

Harry drooped in his chair. Now the professor was mad at him, and properly so. He poked at the last of his fruit, his appetite abruptly gone.

"Finish your breakfast, you horrible brat," Snape ordered sharply. "Classes will start shortly." He reached over and fixed the little monster's collar where it was twisted at the back. Honestly, couldn't he even dress himself?

Harry looked up hopefully through his fringe. Maybe the professor wasn't all that mad if he were fixing Harry's shirt?

"I said, eat!" Snape gave the defiant child a cuff on the side of the head. It was definitely a cuff, not a pat. And certainly not a tousle of the brat's wild hair. It wasn't his fault if his fingers got caught in the rat's nest.

Reassured, Harry grinned and demolished the rest of his breakfast. "Y'ssir," he mumbled around the last of his milk.

"And don't talk with your mouth full!" Snape snapped, but the rebuke went unnoticed as the brat slipped from his chair and, snatching up his bookbag, ran for the door.

"See you this afternoon, Pr'fessor!" Harry shouted over his shoulder.

"It's a detention, Potter!" Snape yelled angrily. "Not a party!" Ooh, he seethed, he'd teach that little wretch to fear his detentions. Chirp a happy farewell, would he? When facing an afternoon of punishment? He'd have that brat writing lines until his fingers fell off, and then he'd really make him sufferтАж

By the time classes ended, Snape had regained his good humor by reducing four NEWTS students to tears and awarding Oliver Wood a detention guaranteed to have the boy begging for mercy. By the time he was done bending over to scrub a decade's worth of potion splatters off the legs of Snape's classroom desks, Wood's back would be in spasm for days. Or at least until he managed to limp up to the infirmary.

The Gryffindor Quidditch captain had apologized and groveled while Snape verbally flayed him for not showing Harry proper warm up and cool down exercises before the tryout, but what had really made his eyes fill with horrified tears was Snape's threat to switch the boy to the Slytherin team if the Gryffindor team didn't take proper care of its players. Wood had gabbled out panicked promises and offered to let Snape take any further injuries that Harry suffered out of his own hide. "Why, Mr Wood," Snape had silkily replied, "I was already planning to do so."

After all the threats, the actual punishment was a welcome relief to the twitching Wood, and Snape left him scrubbing away as Harry entered the room.

"H'lo, sir," Harry said politely, quickly stuffing the chocolate frog he'd been munching into a robe pocket.

Snape took his chin in a firm grip and, taking out a clean white handkerchief, he scrubbed the urchin's face. "Hmmm?" he asked menacingly, showing the brat the smears of chocolate that had, until a moment ago, decorated his countenance.

"ErmтАж It's the Patil twins' birthday," Harry explained pleadingly. "They were giving frogs to everyone. It would've been rude to refuse."

"No dessert tonight." Snape pronounced in tones that brooked no argument.

Harry sighed. "Y'sir. C'n I at least finish my frog then?" he asked hopefully.

"No." Snape extended his palm, and Harry mournfully deposited the half-eaten frog upon it. It was rather linty after its stay in his pocket, he admitted to himself. Snape regarded it with loathing and Vanished the treat. He took Harry by the shoulder and moved him briskly down the aisle to a seat in the front row.

"Hi, Oliver," Harry said as he was dragged past the older Gryffindor.

"Hullo, kid," Wood grinned up at him from where he was bent over the tall desk, scouring the legs with a stiff-bristled brush.

"This is not a tea party, Potter," Snape snapped. "Sit down and begin your lines."

"Yes, sir," Harry said obediently, drawing parchment and quill out of his bag. He'd been assigned the lines about his relatives first, but it would be easier to finish the ones about the flying incident, since there were only 200 of them. He decided that it would be better to finish at least one part of his punishment as quickly as possible and determined to work on the 200 line assignment.

His stomach gave a rumble and he thought longingly of the frog before focusing his attention on the work before him. Now what was it that Snape had told him to writeтАж? Oh, right тАУ Harry bent to his task.

He jumped in amazement as a glass of milk and plate of sliced apples appeared on the desk in front of him.

Looking up at the professor, he saw Snape glaring at him. "Get to work, you lazy brat!"

"Sir!" Wood protested from the back of the room, and Harry twisted around in surprise. "You shouldn't call him that!"

"Mind your own business, Mr Wood, or would you care to clean the chairs as well as the desks?" Snape threatened.