Snape shook it off. "It is simply a rather unpleasant word used to describe those who are of muggle parentage.
"Oh," came Harry's response – he wasn't surprised, not really – it was Malfoy, after all.
"It is not a term that is tolerated here at Hogwarts, and rest assured, myself and Mr Malfoy will have words," Snape told him.
Harry simply nodded and didn't pursue the topic any further – mostly because he was sure he must have upset his guardian.
After a moment or so, Severus spoke again.
"I have seen very little of you, this past week."
It was more of an observation than a question.
Harry shrugged. "I'm grounded, aren't I?"
"Whilst that is correct, I do recall advising you that you were still welcome in my quarters," he pointed out.
"Oh. I forgot," was all the boy said, focusing on his food.
Severus Snape resisted the urge to sigh, wondering why attempting to raise one twelve year old boy was so much harder than teaching full classes of the brats.
Maybe he couldn't do this.
"Sir? I… I was wondering, how much longer will I be grounded for?" Harry asked, quietly. "It's just… it's Quidditch tomorrow… the first game of the season…"
"Your grounding will remain in place for another week," Snape told him.
Harry's shoulders slumped.
"However. I will permit you to partake in the Quidditch game tomorrow," he began, seeing the boy's face light up again. "On one condition."
"What is it?" Harry asked, practically bouncing in his seat now.
"I need you to promise me that your reckless behaviour and penchant for trouble will cease. You yourself have seen this evening that the castle may, at present, not be entirely safe. Therefore, I would ask that you do not put yourself in any position of vulnerability. Do not go looking for trouble. And, though I am sure it goes without saying, ensure that you adhere to curfew."
Harry nodded eagerly. "I will. I promise."
"Very well," Snape sighed. Grounded but still permitted to play Quidditch – he was going soft.
With that, he rose from his seat, going to sit on the sofa by the fire, hopeful that the brat would allow him to read his newspaper in peace.
And there was peace then – at least until the boy had finished eating, at which point he appeared in front of his guardian.