"And you see nothing wrong with such an inequitable situation?"
Harry guessed what "inequitable" meant. "Well, they wanted him. They were just stuck with me."
"Potter, you will drive me mad with your lack of insight," Snape scolded. "You were a child. You are a child. It is an adult's responsibility to treat any child in their care appropriately. Children are to be fed and housed and clothed and protected from harm. They are -"
Harry looked over at Snape worriedly. That sounded like a lot of work. What if the professor decided Harry would be too much trouble? "Please, sir, I'll be good. I won't be any bother, and I'll do whatever work you want me to do, and тАж"
Snape interrupted this pathetic litany before his blood pressure could rise any higher. "Shut up, Potter. I've already agreed; you need not try to convince me further."
Harry relaxed with a sigh of relief. The professor was really nice. Maybe he wasn't going to be hit for the hug after all. Maybe this "talk" was to be just that.
Snape scowled. He really didn't want to open this next topic, but he knew he had to do it. "Potter, in the infirmary, you said you didn't understand why my actions to you at your detention were inappropriate. You thought my treatment of you was justified."
"Yes, sir."
"It was not. Faculty at Hogwarts do not strike students. What is more, my blow was excessively harsh. No child should be treated in that fashion." He paused. "That is a rule."
Harry tried hard to understand what the professor was saying. "But, if teachers don't punish students like that," he said slowly, thinking it out, "then why did you hit me?"
Snape fought not to squirm. Trust the irritating brat to ask the one question he really didn't want to answer. But he owed the little monster the truth. "I wasn't hitting you, Potter," he retorted. At Harry's look of complete bewilderment, he forced himself to elaborate. "Yes, of course, I hit you, but I wasn't really aiming at you. I тАУ " he broke off in frustration and decided to try a different approach. "YouтАж strongly resemble your father, Potter," he began. The boy sat up straighter at his words.
"I do?"
Snape glared at him. "Of course you do. Haven't you seen pictures?" Oh. Of course not. Not in that household.
Even as the thought occurred to him, Harry shook his head. "My aunt and uncle said they didn't want to have any pictures of 'worthless drunks' in the house. I haven't seen any pictures of my parents, and I тАУ " he colored, as if confessing a grievous sin "- I don't really remember them."
Snape fought back pity. "Naturally you don't, you foolish brat. You were little more than a year old when they were killed." Should he? Shouldn't he? In the end, he said what he knew Lily would have wanted. "I have some pictures of your mother. I'll show them to you at some point."
For a moment he thought the brat would hurl himself at him again, and he braced for the onslaught of the bony little frame, but Harry restrained himself, though his glowing expression of gratitude spoke volumes.
Snape cleared his throat. "Yes, well, I suspect there will also be pictures of your father somewhere around the school. He was always attracting attention to himself," he spat. "I will speak with the other faculty and see if they have any photos that could be copied."
"Thank you," Harry managed to gulp out around the enormous lump in his throat. Snape might call him names and snap at him, but the man's kind actions belied his snarky tone.
"Hmf." Snape huffed, highly uncomfortable with both the boy's thanks and the worshipful look that was growing on Potter's countenance.
"As I was saying," he forcibly dragged the conversation back on course. "You resemble your father and тАУ"
Again the boy interrupted him. "Don't I look like my mum at all?" he asked plaintively.
"YouтАж have her eyes," Snape admitted reluctantly, then stifled a snort as the boy practically crossed his eyes trying to see his own features. With a glower at the delay, he conjured up a hand mirror and handed it to the troublesome creature. Harry stared at his face as if he had never seen it before, trying to feel some connection with his dead parents.
Snape felt his throat start to tighten in pity, and he hurriedly transformed the mirror back to its original form. "If you are quite done interrupting me," he snapped at the boy, and Harry meekly nodded. "You are very nearly a carbon copy of your father, as he appeared when I first met him. WeтАж did not get on. During your detention, your appearance made me think of your father and when I misunderstood something you were saying, I тАУ" Snape felt himself flush "-lost control of my temper. I struck you quite brutally while thinking of your father, and for that I have apologized."
To his complete shock, Harry leaned forward and patted him on the arm. "I sometimes get confused too," he whispered confidingly. "Like when my teacher would lean over my desk and I'd think it was Uncle Vernon about to hit me."
Marvelous. The brat had flashbacks. As if Snape needed further confirmation of how awful Potter's home life had been. It was amazing the child wasn't catatonic, and yet Albus thought Snape was the best person to look after this broken, damaged child? The Headmaster really was delusional. Perhaps he and Potter could get a group rate at the mind-healers.
He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Yes, well, those memories will likely start to fade now that you are away from that dreadful environment," he explained, "and since you will no longer be treated in that fashion."
Harry stared at him. "You mean I'm not going to get hit? At all?" This was sounding perilously close to the meaningless words the other teachers had mouthed. He gave Snape a distrustful look.
"You will not be hit by your instructors," Snape replied, relieved that they were getting away from the specifics of his own transgressions and into more general topics. "That is against school policy. If anyone were to try to harm you, I expect you to defend yourself."
Harry looked as if he had suddenly started to spout gibberish, and he supposed that, to the boy, he had. "Potter, when your uncle struck you, you were obliged to remain still and silent, correct?" The boy nodded. "Those were his rules." Harry nodded. "And what did I tell you about those rules?"
Harry's eyes widened. "You said to forget them. Then you mean, I тАУ I don't have to hold still?"
"Didn't I just explicitly tell you not to do that?" Snape demanded.
"Yes, butтАж" Harry trailed off. He hadn't really thought the man was serious.
"When I tell you to do something, I expect you to do it!" Snape admonished him severely. This was much better. He was good at this sort of thing. "Do you imagine I speak merely for my own benefit?"
"No, sir!" Harry shook his head vigorously. "Sorry, sir!"
Snape paused, thinking. How much should he tell the boy? Would it be better to put him on notice now about Voldemort and Death Eaters and the fact that to many in the Wizarding world, Harry was an irresistible target? Should he explain that Harry would require special tutelage in defense and dueling? He looked over to the small boy, so recently released from one form of bondage and slated to another kind of indenture тАУ this time to the entire Wizarding world. He decided not to reveal everything just yet. First Harry had to become accustomed to not being a punching bag. There was plenty of time to explain that he was still a target.
"You are my ward," Snape decided upon his tack. "As such, your discipline is my responsibility. The other teachers may assign you punishments or dock points, but none of them is to lift a finger to you. If they do тАУ " he tried hard not to think about Quirrel in particular "- you are to defend yourself and prevent them from harming you. That is also true of your classmates. If any of them seek to harm you, you are to defend yourself. Vigorously." He was the most hated professor at Hogwarts for good reason, and it wasn't inconceivable that some of the more foolish students might try to get even with Snape by attacking his ward.