Chapter one. Melted butterscotch.
A/N; warnings for; anorexia, cruel Snape, and language, ignorant Remus and dealing with depression. i'm going to be honest folks, as much as i love cooking i'm a disaster waiting to happen in the kitchen.I don't own any of the recipes, or the is much shorter than my other works but a nice stress reliever.
read)
"Harry, my boy!" the jovial man excited, spreading his arms. Harry nodded politely, pulling his trunk after him in the circular office.
"Sir." he looked at the portraits, half missing and the other half sleeping, it was a depressing sight, because the sleeping portraits looked like they were dead.
"I believe everything went as expected?" Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster asked kindly, extending his hand from his pocket he gestured at Harry.
"Sherbet Lemon Harry?" Harry declined politely and settled down on a antique chair settled across the desk, the tall brute man standing behind him. Blue eyes and freckled face, with his red hair pulled in a ponytail behind his back, Bill,Weasley was at the peak of his life, as of now he was one of Harry's advance Guards, escorting the boy to Albus's office as earlier planned.
"You'll be fine on your own?" He asked the raven haired boy, even though the boy was already fifteen, Bill and Charlie both felt extremely protective of him since they had met him when he was twelve.
Harry smiled slightly and nodded his head. "I will, thank you Bill." he shook the curse breakers hand and smiled softly.
Bill nodded at Albus again before departing by the floo, shouting out 'the burrow!' loudly before disappearing in a whisk of flames.
"Has Bill told you anything? About your current situation Harry?" Dumbledore settled down on his own chair, popping another lemon drop in his mouth.
The teenager nodded curtly. "Yes sir, he explained everything."
Albus eyed the boy warily. "And what do you think?" his baby blue eyes were twinkling madly and he was hiding a huge grin behind his long lengthy grey beard. Harry shook his head, fumbling with the small plastic bird like key chain. "I'm not sure. Not really, if you could..."
Albus nodded, smiling widely. "Harry, first you have to understand that this is the best solution the order could come up with, as you know Voldemort is getting more powerful as each day passes and the blood wards might not be enough anymore."
The old man snapped his fingers, a small plate of pastries appearing on bis desk. He was aware of Harry's sweet tooth, had heard from the sugar rushes the boy had from the order members and knew that if the boy who lived had any weaknesses, it would be sweets.
Harry eyed the plate warily, he would not take that pastry, he was on a diet. You're on a diet! He thought desperately.
"Do you want to try one?" Harry could swore the man was laughing at him when he couldn't take his eyes off the plate, those delicious looking scones and butterscotches just sitting there on that plate, waiting to be tasted by Harry, he would kill for the secret recipe, he had been trying to get out of the house elves for a while. What made those scones so perfect and delicious, or what made the butterscotches taste so crunchy but soft at the same time. Just one, he pleaded, wrestling with his self will.
Just a fingertip...you're on diet! He whimpered, looking away.
"I can't." he answered the headmaster, looking ready to cry. Albus laughed, shaking his head.
"Whatever happens in this room, stays here Harry. Feel free to eat as your heart desires."
Harry felt like he was being bribed, but he couldn't focus, his entirety was focused on those scones, oh how much he wanted one right now...
"I can't." yes you can, just take one. Where's your Gryffindor courage?
You're on a diet Potter! Get a hold of yourself!
Albus heaved a regrettable sigh and snapped his fingers again, the plate disappearing with a loud clank. "Alas, that was our best made scones, with fresh butter and milk."
"Fresh?!" Harry looked ready to melt, why hadn't he taken it? Damn you Potter, damn you!
Dumbledore, chuckled, seeing the devastated look in the boy's eyes. "Moving on, I believe this temporary arrangements will be good for the both of you Harry, Spinners end is more secure than here or the burrow at any rate and you shouldn't worry at all when you have Professor Snape with you."
"Good for whom exactly Professor? We'll both be dead by the end of the week if left alone for too long." Harry grumbled, spinning the key chain in his palm, the motion calmed his super hyper nerves.
The headmaster laughed once again, stroking his beard. "No Harry, but believe me when I say, both of you could use each other, Severus might be a little stubborn, but I'm sure you get through him."
Harry grunted, he absolutely /hated/ this turn of events, just last week, he was at the burrow longing on Ron's bed, or helping Molly in the kitchen, life was good. But now... He was being shipped off to live with Snape, to who knows where for who knows how long, being cut off from the rest of the world without nay means of communication or human exhibition for at least twenty miles away. Well, aside from Snape, but he really didn't count /him/ as a human being. More like a giant bat. He thought snarkly.
"Now there Harry, be reasonable, Professor Snape has accepted to take over your guardianship until you're of age. You should be grateful." he scolded the sour teenager softly, watching the inner conflict with interest.
Harry heaved another sigh. "Yes sir, but are you absolutely sure.."
"Yes Harry I'm sure." he said firmly. "I'm afraid there is no way out of this one."
Harry sighed in defeat, he didn't look forward to living with Snape at all.
"How did he even accept this arrangement? He hates me!" this was the only question really bugging Harry for a while. They both hated each other, that emotion was certainly mutual, he hated Harry and Harry hated him back out of spite.
There was no questioning it, it was just the way things were. What changed that?
"I believe that is the question we both want to be answered my boy." Albus drawled in amusement. He sighed and stood up, gesturing Harry closed. The shorter boy scrambled to his feet.
"Sir, just be to be sure, I can't send or receive any owls, right?" his tone was laced with dread, he couldn't even imagine himself locked up with Snape in a rundown house with no means of communication, completely secluded. Once again fate was messing with him. They had an interesting relationship, he and fate, she just insisted to kick him in the face again and again when he thought nothing else could go wrong. And he just kept getting kicked without giving any blows.
"Yes Harry, but don't worry, I'm sure your friends will be delighted to send your packages through Dobby. Whenever required." he added silently, putting his hand solidly on Harry's shoulder.
"I have a portkey waiting for us in three minutes Harry, be prepared." Harry did so, by clasping his hand around the truck's handle, he stuffed his key chain back in his back pocket, and made sure that he still had his wand.
"Can I communicate with you sir?" He asked suddenly, he wondered how long it took Snape to throw him out of the house, or floo Dumbledore to come and retrieve his golden boy. Or better yet, kill him in his sleep. Harry shuddered, he had to lock his room. He decided, one never knew if his potion Processor had homicide urges.
"...Harry? "Albus called him, waving his hand in front of his green eyes. Harry blinked owlishly, snapping out of his stupor.
"Excuse me?"
"I said do you have everything you need?" Harry nodded distractingly, looking around the office for the last time for who knew how long.
"Sir you didn't answer my question." he said suddenly, looking at Dumbledore. Albus sighed and grabbed the portkey, Harry hurried after the man and grabbed the edge of the cooking magazine. What a irony, he thought slyly.
"Just tell Severus Harry." the old man winked before Harry felt a sickening pull behind his navel, feeling as if his guts were in his throat and his heart was beating next to his brain, the couple whirled in a mash of colors, spinning madly.
Harry let go of the portkey just in time to crash against the cobblestoned street, groaning as he felt his trunk dropping on his side with a loud crash. Ouch, he winced, cursing under his breath.
Harry climbed to his feet slowly, wincing as his hip protested. That's going to bruise, he thought before looking around, feeling his mouth go dry all of a sudden. Spinners end was exactly the way Harry had expected it to be, grim. Even the air was heavier and more humid, the street was narrow and he could smell trash even from where he stood. He looked around the deserted street. More like an alley. He thought, awful neighborhood, and dogs barking. Great, he thought sarcastically, exactly his image of a perfect home.
"Shall we Harry?" the old man didn't wait for him to answer, instead he took off to one of the houses far off the narrow cobblestoned alley. Harry shuddered, biting his lips self consciously before following after the headmaster.
Every ounce of self doubt and dread was back, this place looks like a dump. He thought to himself, wincing inwardly. Lock the front door and your bedroom and lock the windows Potter, maybe he should keep a kitchen knife with him. Just in case. Harry trailed after the strolling man, who seemed oddly out of place in his bright purple robes and his waist length beard, popping sweets in his mouth and strolling as if he was in a park.
Crazy, all of them. Harry thought, shaking his head. What would Sirius say? Seeing me like this? Harry had no idea since the man was currently in Belgium with Remus, doing merlin knew what, probably on a mission. He knew that Sirius rather let Harry die than let him spend his time here, living with 'snivelous '. They reached a dingy porch, and an unhinged gate standing awry and a little bit rusted. Harry sighed warily, this place was safe? Harry's cupboard had more bolts on it than the gate.
"Come Harry." Albus called, already at the door. Harry followed hesitantly, not quite sure why he had agree to this. Because you had no choice. His mind snapped back at him. Oh, now I remember, Harry rolled his eyes.
Yes, he did remember the headmaster flooing in yesterday, while Harry and the Weasleys were enjoying a good beef stroganoff made by Harry and a particularly good chocolate pudding, also made by Harry as a celebration, and then Dumbledore just had to barge in right then. Right as Harry was about to eat his first spoonful. The only desert he was allowed to have for the week.
Stupid old coot. Harry frowned darkly, dragging his trunk past the gate, careful not to hit it to the gate, it looked ready to fall off already. Harry didn't need Snape down his throat the moment he got there.
The door, not so surprisingly was open, honestly the whole house looked deserted. Harry followed Dumbledore swiftly, once again making sure to pick up a kitchen knife as soon as he unpacked.
Dumbledore walked down the grim filled hallway and into the house, Harry left his trunk by the door and followed the man hastily. He looked around the empty walls. Nothing, no pictures, no wallpaper, no cobwebs. Grey walls.
It's just two years Harry. Two years from now on, you will be an adult. He had started counting down his seconds from then. He entered what seemed to be a living room, covered in books, stacks here and there, the three shelves lining the wall all full to the brim, and a worn red velvet armchair resting next to the fireplace. Just 365 days Harry until your next birthday. No big deal. Album looked around the house and turned on his feet, facing Harry.
"Well then Harry, I'm sure Severus is down in his labs. I wouldn't bother him if I were you, get settled in and I wish you a great holiday, goodbye." he put a warm hand on Harry's shoulder, squeezing it. Harry opened his mouth to protest but the headmaster was already out of the door, the front door clicking softly with a snap. Harry sighed, not believing what just had happened, Dumbledore just left him! Like this, with Snape nowhere in sight.
What was wrong with this people? Harry hadn't had the foggiest that what he was supposed to do, and he had no entire to get caught snooping around the potion master's house, so he walked down to the armchair and sank down.
Better wait for Snape to stalk in. Dumbledore was right, there was no point in bother the bat in his labs.
He looked around the house again, honestly he expected Snape to sleep in coffins, or live in dungeons all year round. But this didn't raise his expectations at all. The house was clean, there was no denying that. But everything was so... Out of place ad old, ancient even. Rather Snape_ish actually. Seconds turned into minutes and minutes morphed into a whole hour before Harry was snapped out of his thoughts. Still, no Snape in sight. This is ridiculous, Harry thought, if this is going to be my house for two years then why am I fretting here like this?
He stood up determinedly, going to retrieve his trunk from the Hallway, if Snape was going to ignore him then Harry was going to do the same, he had no problem pretending that Snape didn't exist.
The young boy nodded to himself and ventured the house, the trunk on his tail wherever he went. The first room was next to the living room, linked with a glass door Harry hadn't noticed before, leading to another room, slightly more furnished, so Harry supposed it was the drawing room. Still, no photographs or any paintings in sight, not even a knick knack, just books, tones of books scattered here and there.
Again furnished in dark colors, the two coaches and the loveseat were all done in a boring shade of brown and the dark red curtains hung loosely from the ceiling, faded over time.
The floor creaked under his weight as the boy slowly made his way out of the rooms and further down the hallway.
It turned out to be the kitchen, a modest size kitchen with grey tiles and battered cabinets, a dingy stove and an old fridge stuffed together in a small kitchen. The teenager sighed. He normally didn't work in kitchens like this, aunt Petunia's kitchen was big and modern, the Weasleys kitchen was at least clean and comfy. This place looked like a dump, to put it lightly. He couldn't work in this place Harry decided. If Snape was going to cook the meals that was his problem, but if Harry had any say in it...
He left the trunk lingering at the door and went over to the sink, opening the tap. He sighed in relief when the water was clear. The last thing he needed was inedible water.
This place needs cleaning, Harry mused, a serious cleaning. He wondered if Snape left it like this on purpose. A note caught his eyes, lying on the wooden table, untouched with a stack of muggle money set on the paper. Harry looked around and picked up the note, he unfolded the paper.
Don't get in my way, don't make loud noises, don't be out of the house without permission and don't come down into my labs, keep the room clean and don't use all of the hot water. The money is for groceries, don't waste it. Upstairs first room on the left. I expect your summer essays lying on this table from this moment on each afternoon, and absolutely no flying in or out of the house. Do not make me angry. Or you'll face the consequences. S. Snape
Harry reread the note and then awkwardly put it down on the table, only Snape could make him feel all shaky in a note, he still sounded like a terrifying git even on a paper.
He let his breath slowly and took the money, wondering if he should leave for groceries now to get some air. But thought against it, it was too early in the morning, he would go for a grocery soon anyways.
Regrettably the young boy dragged his trunk up the flight of stairs, as quietly as possible so he wouldn't alert Snape. If the man was so set on ignoring that Harry even existed, then why did he accepted this arrangements in the first place? Was he getting paid or something? Or perhaps his job was on the line?
First door on the left. Harry turned the knob anxiously and stepped back, watching the door creak open. Snape hadn't even entered the room, it seemed in ages, the room was dust free like the rest of the house. But the furniture... The room was modest, definitely bigger than his own bedroom at the Dursleys and a tad smaller than Ron's room, wooden floor, small paned window with no curtain and a battered dresser topped with a old and worn out and ancient bed with Grey comforters was the sight that met Harry as he stepped in the room.
Harry sighed, pulling the trunk behind him, he was really lucky that he had brought his own comforter, well technically it was Hermione's hundred piece quilt, but who cared? Hermione was a too busy with Ron and her studies to worry about a quilt. Harry unpacked quickly, his stomach was growling, he didn't have any breakfast and he had skipped lunch to wander around and look for Snape. The mere thought of cooking in that battered kitchen made his guts churn, but Harry didn't let it get to him.
The kitchen was empty, in fact, it was the way Harry had left it in the first place, with note and money still sitting on the table and the chairs still scattered. Not realizing that he was holding his breath, Harry opened the fridge, only to be met by its emptiness. Nothing was in the fridge, nothing even as simple as eggs or milk. Harry worried his lip and closed the fridge. The boy wandered off to the cabinets checking every drawer or cupboard, trying to find something edible. Even the plates looked unwashed for quite some time, Harry mused, trying to keep his rising panic at hay.
By now his stomach was throwing a fit, growling and demanding food. Harry sighed as he found nothing and picked up the money, turned out I have to go to the grocery store sooner than I realized, he thought. Harry had mixed feelings about this, on one hand grocery shopping was one of his favorite parts of cooking, but on the other hand Snape said to not to leave the house.
It's his own fault anyway, leaving me in this damn house with nothing to survive with, Harry thought angrily but decided to leave a note in case Snape decided to show up.
He threw his clothes on quickly, making sure to grab a light sweater just in case it got cold, and got out of the house. After looking around the neighborhood, the teenage boy took off with his hands deep in his pockets, mindlessly twirling the key chain in his palm.
He had no idea how to deal with this new situation. He was expected to live with Professor Snape for two years until he got of age, apparently because the Dursleys have unexpectedly moved out of their house and the wards have fallen. Seeing as the Weasleys, and Dumbledore were both obvious choices and it wasn't quite as safe, Snape of all people has agreed to take him in. At first Harry flat out refused, he'd rather die than spend more than three hours with Snape, much less /live/ with him.
And in a place like this... He mused, looking around, he could just imagine aunt Petunia sneering in disgust and uncle Vernon sputtering in indignation. But on the other hand, he had to do this, he couldn't let anyone else getting hurt because of him, the mere thought of losing his family the way he has lost Sirius and Cedric was unbearable.
Sirius. He exhaled slowly, looking around for a local store, he couldn't think about it. A whole month after the incident, and he couldn't even thing about the man's name. And Remus, gazing at him with those disappointed hazel eyes, barely containing himself from blaming Harry for what had happened. They all did, to some extent, even Molly was angry at him for a while, but they never said anything, Sirius's death seemed like punishment enough, so instead of tongue lashings and glares Molly and Arthur took him in after the school term ended.
Until Professor Dumbledore came along. Harry squinted his green eyes behind his glasses, gazing at a small dingy store with flickering lights. Oh well, the boy shrugged and quickened his pace. Better this than nothing he supposed. Harry huffed, and bit his lip, looking up at the grey sky.
Things will never be the same again. He thought before striding towards the shop.
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