Disclaimer: J.K. owns everything related to Harry Potter.

The majestic owl soars down in front of me as I sit in the Great Hall with my two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. I instantly flash a soft sad smile towards Hedwig as she holds her leg out towards me. I grab the envelope and slowly flip it over to open. The familiar green scrawl greets me immediately. I cannot help but groan.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione softly asks.

I only show her the envelope, since I know that is all I need to do to make her understand. As everyone claims, Hermione really is the smartest witch here. I sigh heavily before grumbling and opening the envelope. More of the familiar green scrawl greets me, which makes me just want to crumple the paper up, storm up to the High Table, and whip it at the greasy-haired git that wrote it. By all estimates, he is probably grinning inside as he watches me from his chair.

"I'm sure it isn't that bad, Harry," Hermione says quietly, which makes me level a glare at her. "Well, it's not as if you and—"

"Hermione," I hiss back. Granted, everyone knows Snape is my guardian now, but I'm not going to flaunt that in the Great Hall of all places. I then sigh. All right, yes, Snape and I live together when we're on break, and comparing him to the Dursleys, well, I'll take Snape any day over them. However, like the old law states, when things are good, be worried. Yeah, well, I have been worried for the past week ever since we finished our finals last week. Here in my hands is the answer to my prayers, only the letter is probably not answering a single one. Instead, it is likely ensuring that I have another miserable summer. Even though, all of my friends and so-called 'caring' adults all have promised me that I am going to have a fun summer. Yeah, right!

Once more, I sigh heavily before scanning my grade report. A moment later, my head slams down on the table with a loud thump. Wonderful, as if my life is not already full of stupid school enough. Now I have to go to summer school, too! Honestly, I live with a professor. That thought then echoes in my head before my head whips up and my green eyes dart towards my slimy-git, evil, mean, Slytherin guardian who wants to kill me with more school. He meets my look with hidden amusement. I growl under my breath before trying to select the best spell to hex him with later. He then folds his arms and leans back in his chair as if to challenge me. I shake my head angrily and turn back towards Hermione and Ron.

"That no-good vampire bat of a professor—"

"Harry!" Hermione exclaims glaring at me. "That is no way to speak about Professor Snape. Now, whatever it is can't possibly be that bad. So stop overreacting."

"He's making me go to summer school, Mione! How in the hell am I supposed to be reacting? That evil git is making me go to summer school! This was supposed to be a nice relaxing summer free of the Dursleys. I was supposed to be sitting back, sleeping all day, you know, things like that, not summer school."

"Oh, honestly, Harry, it won't kill you. You might even learn something."

"You're joking," I reply dumbfounded. I then glance towards Ron who only shrugs. "Oh, come on. I'm the best in class for Defense. I don't need to go to summer school."

"Well, obviously, that's not what your grades state, Harry," Hermione replies haughtily.

"Maybe you're forgetting, Hermione, but I did have a lot of things going on this year."

"Such as . . .?"

"Well, Quidditch, for example—"

"Why boys find that sport so attractive I'll never know," she mutters under her breath. She then levels a glare at me that is worthy to be a weak-Snape glare. "Academics are more important than that silly game, Harry James Potter, and I believe you heard this same lecture from Professor—"

"All right, all right, hush," I interrupt before she goes into another tirade that draws everyone's attention. "Fine, Hermione, but what about—"

"You'll just try to find any excuse, won't you? Well, believe me, Harry, it is no one's fault but your own." She then grabs the letter out of my hands before glancing at my grades.

I watch the horror spread across her face before she glances back at me. I am unable to prepare myself when she suddenly grabs her Astronomy book and starts to hit me with it hard. I try to fight off the attack by holding up my arms to block her blows, but she only redirects her hitting.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger?" a silky voice drawls behind me.

I instantly gulp and glance down at the table that looks oh so interesting right now. Of course Snape knows about my grades and that I'm spending my summer at summer school. After all, Snape was the one who wrote that letter to me. However, I also know that it is best to avoid Snape's gaze, especially after this.

"No, Professor," Hermione replies innocently. "Harry and I were just having an argument."

"Indeed," Snape drawls slowly. "And what may I ask did this argument concern?"

I quickly try to kick my leg towards Hermione's to stop her from talking, but I end up kicking Neville instead. He instantly yelps before falling backwards off the bench. If it weren't so sad, it'd be funny. Groaning loudly, I let my head drop back onto the table. I am so beyond dead now.

"Well, sir, Harry just received his grades for the term."

"Did he now? I take it, Mr. Potter, did exceedingly atrocious as always?"

Up until this point I have been biting my tongue to keep from speaking, however, when Snape insults me like that I cannot hold back. It's been engrained into me as a horrible habit it now where I just have to respond back angrily. My head whips up, and I stand up to glare at him. I care very little what trouble I'm going to get in later.

"Stop being such a git to me, Snape! I tried. That's all you asked of me this term…to try to get better grades. Well, I did, and that didn't work. Maybe if you weren't such a hovering bat in Potions, I could have passed my final and I wouldn't be in goddamn summer school now because of it! I tried, Snape, which is all you asked of me." I then cannot hold back the words because my temper is winning. "I'm sorry that I suck at Potions! I'm sorry that I'm not like Hermione, who doesn't even have to work at anything in order to do well at school! Mostly, though, I'm sorry you got such a worthless little idiot for a ward! I'M SORRY!"

"Are you done throwing your temper tantrum?"

The little vein in his temple that normally throbs when I shout at Snape isn't even visible. His face is perfectly relaxed. He hasn't clenched his hands into tight fists ready to cast powerful magic at me. There's just nothing. Absolutely no reaction from the man says he's angry, which is how Snape always reacts.

I open my mouth while probably wearing a stupid face, but close it a second later. How do you apologize for doing something like that? After all, I'm a fourth-year. I've faced down the darkest wizard of all century three times and walked away relatively uninjured every time. I've had psychotic DADA professors who have tried to hurt or kill me three times. I've learned that it was a very good idea on Professor Dumbledore's part to forgo that competition event that we should have had here this year. Why he decided to cancel it at the last moment is beyond me, but really that is the last thing we need here at this death trap of a school.

Professor Dumbledore probably changed it because of Snape. After all, the man is absolutely convinced that I have a death wish. For example, I was playing a pick-up game of Quidditch in the rain one day. When Snape learned of this later, I had to drink every nasty and disgusting potion he could find for me. According to him, Snape doesn't want me to catch some deadly disease that's so rare that only I can catch it. His words, not mine. Quite honestly, I think the man exaggerates a bit too much. It's not as if I always get hurt or am on my deathbed whenever something happens. Okay, well, sometimes, but it's not my fault, just like my grades. I just have a busy life this term. I mean, I have to balance my class work, Quidditch, learning DADA with Snape, and entertaining Professor Dumbledore. It's not a walk in the park here being Harry Potter. I have a difficult life.

"Detention, Mr. Potter. I expect you in my office promptly at 7 o'clock tonight."

"But, sir, it's the last day," I whine.

"And I would care why, Potter? After all, did you not just yell in front of the whole school that you are one of the unlucky souls who are stuck all summer with us?" He fixes me with a knowing look before briskly walking out of the Great Hall.

There are going to be others? Oh no! Everyone's going to learn how horrible I am at school then. I then sigh heavily and pick up my grade report.

Astronomy: Dreadful
Charms: Exceed Expectations
DADA: Outstanding
Herbology: Poor
History of Magic: Poor
Potions: Troll
Transfiguration: Acceptable.

Okay . . . maybe it is my fault.