"Yes, sir."
"Good. Now go."
The boy lifted his head for a brief look, then scampered into the classroom. Severus scooped up the scroll and followed after him, to make sure the Brat had no problems deciphering his instructions. The beetles had been done very well, so he had little concern that the boy could do this one, too. Keeping one ear tuned to the sound of precise slicing, Severus unraveled the scroll and read through it quickly, once, and then more thoroughly a second time.
The first thing that occurred to him was that the boy had to learn better penmanship and soon, or it was going to drive Severus quite mad to have to read any essays he turned in. His second though was that he was . . . pleased the boy had put in an honest effort. So many children did not, when their work was for detention. Giving almost three feet of examples and counter examples of his rules-abiding behavior, as well as his reasons for doing so when he understood them, Potter had shown, too, that he had a decent head on his shoulders and was not a complete waste of breath, unlike his father.
Some of the examples of rules Potter did not respect or follow, however, drawn almost entirely from his aunt and uncle's domain, took his breath away.
Apparently, in his home, Potter was expected to do everything he was told, up to and including tasks that put him in the way of serious physical harm, to accept any kind of abuse as his due, and to agree with every nasty and illogical thing he was told about himself, his parents and magic in general.
Severus realized the sound of murtlap separation had ceased, and he looked up to find Potter staring at him, his green eyes hard, the knife still in his hand.
"Is it what you wanted, sir?"
"It is," Severus replied evenly, not rising to the bait of the boy's anger. "And I detect a pattern here. You will obey rules if you agree with them, or if given an even chance to comply."
Potter's eyes narrowed, but he nodded, tightly.
"For example, you have sent away for clothes to replace the ones that I noted were out of regulation. When did you send the owl?"
"The morning after we arrived, sir," Potter said, flushing.
"So, before I even discovered your nightclothes error."
"Yes, sir."
Severus nodded, and he was pretty sure of the next answer, but wanted to know for certain the depth of his own folly. "And so, when you asked about owl orders, during our House meeting . . . you had not forgotten quills or candy, had you."
Potter's jaw tightened, and his hand clenched around the knife. "No, sir."
"Mm." He paused, then, "You wrote that you arrive for classes on time, I see, realizing that not doing so is not only a disservice to yourself, but to your fellow classmates, and is disrespectful to your professors."
"Yes, sir."
"You do all your homework, to the best of your ability, though you have been required, primarily due to detentions, to miss several mandatory meetings with your study group." He peered up at the boy, watching his internal struggle. "Does that bother you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Explain."
"Well, sir, like I wrote, it's not fair to them when I don't show up, 'cause Millie, um, Millicent Bullstrode, she sometimes needs extra help and the others think she's dragging them down on purpose."
"And you do not?"
"No, sir. She can do the material, she just needs . . ." He shrugged.
"Encouragement?"
A brief smile. "Yes, sir."
"I see. But tell me, Potter, aside from the effect your absence has on your peers, Miss Bullstrode in specific, is there any other reason that not attending a mandatory study session should be avoided?"
Potter's frown was troubling, but then it smoothed and Severus released his breath. "Because I might need help, too?"
"Indeed." He paused, considered his words very carefully, then continued, "There is a pattern readily apparent in your rules violations, Mr. Potter. When you believe that you are the only person to be impacted by a rule that inconveniences you or may lead you to further trouble, you are more likely to disregard it. Take this one for example: the rule of 'No food until all your chores are done' has been disobeyed . . . how many times would you say?"
Potter swallowed convulsively and was silent for long enough that Severus could get his own temper under control, for which he was grateful. Just when he was about to prompt the boy again, Potter admitted in a soft voice, "Lots."
"Why?"
"I was hungry." The words came out as a whisper, and the knife trembled violently in his hand.
Severus dared only push a little further. He knew the real reason from reading between the lines of the essay, but he wanted to boy to admit it to himself. "Why did you simply not follow the rule? You would have been given food if you finished all your chores."
Potter shook his head. "Not always, not even if I did finish. And then . . ." His teeth snapped together. Red faced, with eyes bright with shame, he looked away.
"And then?" At the continued silence, Severus sharpened his tone. "If you finished your chores, what then?"
"And then he'd just make a longer list the next day!"
"Ah." Severus maintained his rigid self-control – which he had prided himself on ever since he was a child himself – with some difficulty. But he did keep his calm façade, and even managed to soften his tone again. "So the rule was not designed for your betterment, nor to keep you from harm, but merely to punish and humiliate you."
"Yes!" Potter said fiercely, and Severus was glad to see the fight in him.
"And that is the crux of the problem, isn't it? You see some rules or requirements here at Hogwarts as designed to humiliate or punish you, when they are in fact, for your safety and/or betterment."
Potter was breathing hard, the knife still gripped tight, but he closed his eyes for a moment and drew a slow breath. Severus watched him regain his temper, and was – almost – impressed.
Keeping a close eye on Potter's breathing pattern and the flush adorning his cheeks, Severus continued in a quiet voice, "For example, being sent to the Infirmary for a check up. I assure you, neither Madam Pomfrey nor myself has any desire to humiliate you for being in pain or in need of our assistance. We both are working to your betterment, but we can only do so with your cooperation. We discussed this on the weekend, did we not?"
"Yes, sir. I'm in your . . . purview?"
"Yes. As a professor, I have a duty and obligation to make sure every child is healthy in mind and body while he is at Hogwarts. Do you understand what that means?"
Potter nodded, and his words were hesitant, almost sullen. "You weren't mocking me when you sent me to see Madam Pomfrey."
"Correct." Severus glanced down at the scroll. "As well, I never considered you a 'cry baby' for seeing to your sore scar, nor a 'whinging malingerer' for needing to have a check up afterwards. I assume these are phrases used by others to describe you on an occasion or two?"
Potter was back to using a tight nod, his arms held rigidly by his sides.
With another glance at the scroll, Severus continued, "You also assumed you would get in 'even more trouble' by mere fact of visiting the Infirmary. Since I was the one who ordered you to go, with whom would this trouble be?
The boy shook his head this time, a spark of fear evident in his eyes.
Severus held his gaze. "I should let you know that, as Head of Slytherin House, I also keep tabs on the status of your home life during holidays. I will be asking some of these same questions of your relatives when I visit with them."
"No! You can't!"
Potter was visibly shaken now, but Severus pushed, "I can, Mr. Potter, and I will. Thus, you may as well answer them for me now."
"You can't visit them!" he repeated, sounding almost frantic. "They hate magic and Wizards, and . . . you just can't!"