Rubbish.

Harry woke a couple of hours later to find the tingling had gone and with it the last physical vestiges of the beating he'd received, though the emotional and mental anguish lingered. He hugged himself and stared silently at the wall, thinking over his current situation as calmly as possible. 'Snape's determined to be a complete bastard, so whether I go along with him or not, whatever happens is going to happen. The only question is do I make it easy on him?' Harry felt that deep, dark well of hatred rise and a bitter smile curled his lips. 'If Snape wants a fight, he's going to get one.'


"Mr. Potter, it is time for dinner." The cool voice spoke from the doorway and then it's owner retreated into the kitchen to take his seat at the table, eating slowly and waiting for Harry to appear. Ten minutes later he set his fork down, staring toward the hallway with a silent sigh of resignation. He knew it would take more than a beating to break Harry of his rebellious streak, and had the idea it would likely only make it that much stronger. His hand trembled with what he knew was coming, but he squelched all physical signs of his deep distress and rose from his chair.


When he stepped into the bedroom it was only his swift reflexes that saved him from taking a boot to the head, and he scowled at his mop-topped charge, drawing his wand. "Mr. Potter, I am swiftly losing my patience." Harry only stared at him with those familiar, yet obstinant emerald eyes, then picked up the other boot and chucked it at Snape's head. When the man moved to avoid getting brained, Harry ran forward out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Snape remained where he was for a moment, until the first crash of glass shattering pulled a weary sigh from his lips.


He returned to the front of the house to find Harry amidst chaos, hands sweeping dishes from the cabinets to smash upon the floor with the other plates, glasses and bowls. Harry shot him a look of savage victory and hatred, then shoved past him to head for the bookshelves. "Do not, Mr. Potter." The deathly chill in Snape's tone only caused a brief stumble in the boy's determined stride, then he continued toward the shelves, prepared to tear every last page from Snape's books. Before he could snatch the first from the case, however, Snape had done what he'd hoped to avoid.


"Cruciolus." Pale blue fire burst from the end of his wand and struck Harry's back, driving the boy instantly to his knees with a shriek of pain. Snape could feel icy fingers squeezing his heart and his stomach tightened until it was a hard ball of pain, but he held the spell a few moments more before lifting it and speaking cooly. "I am sick of dealing with your childishness, Mr. Potter. I will not have you destroying my home out of spite." Harry struggled to regain his breath now that the feeling of being burned alive from within had passed, and he shoved himself up resolutely on shaking legs. He didn't even bother responding to Snape, merely reached for the book he'd tried for before.


Snape fought against the urge to vomit, closing his eyes and forcing his face to remain calm as he muttered. "Cruciolus." And once again the little torment sprang from his wand and spread it's tendrils of agony through his ward, Snape's own mouth going dry. Harry's screams made his skin crawl and a seed of self-loathing buried it's self in the soil of Snape's soul. He swallowed back a wrenching cry as he ended the spell and spoke once more, surprised to hear his voice so regular and cold. "I can keep this up all night, and the spell is altered so that there is no chance you will go mad, Mr. Potter."


Harry lay silent on the living room floor, wanting to crawl into a corner and curl up there until he was nothing but dust and bones, but he rose again to his feet, feeling as if half of his mass had turned to jelly. His hand shook alarmingly as he reached yet again for that book, and Snape flicked his wand, sending a bolt of red light flashing at his ward. Harry went rigid and then fell over with a crash, knocked unconcious by the silent Stupify. Snape dropped into the nearest chair, aching cold spreading throughout his body, and he began to shake violently, bending forward to place his head between his knees.


He could feel his body trying to expell the little food he'd eaten at dinner, but he fought against the urge, voicing dry, wracking sobs. He lifted a trembling hand to cover his face, moaning softly in emotional agony before forcing the feelings back and down into a bright marble, dropping it into the bottomless pit at the back of his mind. He simply had no time to indulge in guilt at the moment. He rose to his feet once the shivers passed and he had regained his composure, murmuring. "Levicorpus." Harry floated up into the air and Snape lead the bobbing, sleeping body of his ward back to their bedroom, lowering him gently into his bed. For a moment Snape merely stood over him and stared at his peaceful face, silently begging his forgiveness before flicking his wand and murmuring hollowly. "Incarcerous." Watching as ropes appeared from beneath the bed and bound themselves tightly to Harry's wrists and ankles.


He licked his lips and returned to the front of the house, casting a few Reparo spells to put right the broken dishes, then retrieving a bottle of butterbeer from his fridge to drink it down in two gulps. By the time he returned to the bedroom, Harry was awake and glaring at the door with murder in his green eyes. "Let me go." Snape ignored him and disappeared into the bathroom, emerging fifteen minutes later to see Harry jerking and twisting in his bonds, hissing. "Snape, I swear on my mother's name...when I get free I will kill you."


"Cruciolus!" Snape didn't even think before casting the spell this time and he approached as Harry shrieked and arched off of his bed, body rigid from the unbearable pain. When it finally ended, Snape was standing over Harry, glaring down at him. "If I ever hear you soiling your mother's name that way again, I will not bother with my altered spell, Mr. Potter. Now, you will remain within those ropes until you are prepared to apologize to me for damaging my belongings and threatening to destroy my library."


Harry snorted and spat at Snape, eyes glittering dangerously. "I'd rather die than ever apologize to you, Snivellus." Snape took a step back to avoid the spittle and then twitched at that old, hated nickname. "Unfortunately for you, Mr. Potter...I do not intend for you to die." He plucked a bottle from his robes and leaned over, neatly avoiding Harry's snapping teeth to pinch the boy's nose shut, the thumb of his free hand shoving the cork in the neck of the bottle out. Harry held his lips shut until he turned an alarming shade of lavender, then his lips parted to gasp for breath and Snape dumped the potion into his mouth.


He pressed his palm over the boy's lips and waited until he swallowed, then stepped back, murmuring quietly. "It will be easier on you if you just give in, Harry. Accept your life and the boundaries I've set...Please." He whispered this last word with an uncharactaristic note of desperation, but the Morpheus Draught was already taking effect and Harry drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep.