And that was how Severus Snape's day went from bad to worse.
Not content with stealing a flying car, managing to embroil himself in every single Hogwarts drama and revealing his surprise talent for speaking to snakes, the child had now, it seemed, gotten into a fist fight with another student.
As he ploughed through the castle towards the transfiguration classroom, the potions master despaired.
Was he failing that miserably as the boy's guardian?
He sneered as he passed a group of fourth year girls, who were leaning out of an empty archway, watching Gilderoy Lockhart on the other side of courtyard, no doubt showing off to somebody. They were practically swooning.
Boys, Molly Weasley had assured him, were ten times easier to raise than girls. Much less complex.
Right then, Severus Snape was not convinced.
Finally, he came to a halt outside the classroom he was looking for.
Sure enough, the boy was sat at one of the desks – head down, back to him, but evidently miserable.
Upon seeing him, Minerva swiftly joined him on the corridor.
"I trust you have heard, then?" she said, quietly.
"Heard?" he scoffed. "I have, as they say in the muggle world, 'seen the other guy.'"
The witch sighed.
"Well? What was it about?" he demanded.
"According to Weasley, they were all at the Quidditch pitch for practice, everything was fine one minute and the next Potter and Smith were rolling around on the floor like a pair of imbeciles," she told him, primly. "Apparently, Smith made a comment about his father and that's when Potter hit him."
Snape gave her a look, but she simply shrugged.
"Boys will be boys, Severus. Especially when it comes to Quidditch."
The potions master resisted the urge to roll his eyes and wondered if Quidditch would be the death of him. Harry's desire to live up to James Potter: Star Seeker on the pitch could sometimes overtake him.
"The punishment?" he asked, eventually.
"A week's detention and a written letter of apology to Smith," she told him.
"An altogether light affair," Snape commented.