As the clock in the informal dining room gonged nine in the morning, Severus allowed one of his dark eyebrows to quirk upwards in disdain. Potter had yet to awaken and join him for breakfast. He should have expected this from a teenager, however.
"Is the boy awake yet, Tokey?" Snape asked, unimpressed, but not surprised, at Potter's laziness.
"Yes, Master," Tokey replied.
Snape frowned. "He is?"
"Master's guest is being awake since very early," Tokey continued, pouring a fresh cup of tea into Severus's mug. "Tokey be asking the young sir if he wanted anything and the young sir asked if he could help with preparing breakfast! Tokey was upset—isn't Tokey good enough, Master?"
Snape's brow crinkled as a frown tugged at his eyebrows. "Your services are incomparable, Tokey," he reassured. "I am sure Potter did not mean to offend you."
"Should Tokey be fetching the young sir now, Master?"
Severus shook his head as he reached for his tea. "I will go upstairs and see to him myself, Tokey. I will need to inform him of my plans for today. If he requires food I am sure he will tell you." He pressed pursed lips to the edge of his mug, sipping the hot liquid delicately. He was in no rush to walk upstairs and check on the boy, Potter was certainly capable enough to care for himself without Severus's assistance. And until a time came when Potter was indeed in mortal peril, the wards Severus had placed around the room would alert him to such danger.
As long as the boy and I continue to have minimal contact with one another we may survive this summer…
Snape came to a halt outside Potter's bedroom door. Drawing in a deep breath, he knocked briskly before he entered without a further word, coming to an immediate halt. His eyes widening slightly as he observed Potter attempting to remake his bed, the boy so focused on his task he had yet to notice the Professor's presence.
Snape cleared his throat. "Mr Potter."
Harry jerked in surprise, dropping the sheet he was in the process of smoothing out.
"What in Merlin's name are you doing."
Harry glanced downwards. "Making my bed?" he replied.
"Would it not be prudent for Tokey to complete that for you? Particularly since you are currently incapacitated?"
The dark-haired young man lifted his left hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it awkwardly as he shrugged. "I'm just used to it," was all he muttered.
A sixteen-year-old? Used to making his bed?
"Be that as it may, while you are here and do not possess a capable right arm, I would suggest leaving Tokey to attend to tasks such as that, is that clear?" Snape instructed sternly.
The boy's jaw visibly clenched but Snape was satisfied when he nodded his answer.
"Good. Now, I will be leaving momentarily to fetch certain items from my usual abode. I will not be long. You are not to leave the manor whilst I am gone, understood?"
"Yes."
Snape did not bother correcting Potter on his lack of manners. Instead he turned, eyes on the doorway.
"I—um, Professor?"
The tall male paused. "What is it, Potter?"
"Could you… perform the visibility spell again? Please?"
Mild surprise filled Snape as he turned back around. Potter looked remarkably uncomfortable at asking for help for something so simple. Snape couldn't help but smirk.
"Very well," he replied, brandishing his wand.
With a lazy swipe and a murmur, Harry's gaze became clear once more, the room coming into focus. Snape was staring at him with an eyebrow quirked, his long fingers expertly sliding his wand back up his sleeve.
"Thank you," Harry murmured, gaze falling away.
Snape watched Potter for a little while longer. He knew he would not be able to continue doing the vision spell for the boy—sooner or later, Potter would require new glasses.
"We will see to providing you with spectacles sometime this afternoon," he decided. "It should be safe to take you to St Mungo's—as long as we are both properly disguised."
The boy stared at him briefly in astonishment.
"I cannot, after all, continue to perform the vision spell whenever you require it." With a brisk nod, Snape turned on his heel. "Remember, do not leave the manor."
His robes swished. The door slammed shut. And Harry was left alone, staring dazedly at the dark wood.
Now what… the voice in his head murmured.
The brunet glanced around, unsure where to even begin. He had already spent a small amount of time organising his trunk which had arrived the previous evening. What little quantity of clothing he had was now put away, his textbooks now shelved neatly on the large bookcase by the dark-wood desk. Normally, Harry would not have given a flying fuck about where his clothes went nor where his school things would have been placed, but spending hours alone in a foreign room with nothing else to do had spurred him on… even if it was purely to distract himself.
Now his trunk was empty and his wand lay untouched and unused on his bedside table.
Taunting him.
"Ugh." Harry turned away. Stupid wand… stupid arm…
An unpleasant tingle had swept up his left arm when he had lifted his wand out of the trunk—almost as if the blasted stick of wood knew it was being held in the wrong limb. Harry hadn't even bothered trying to hold it in his right hand, god knows what might have happened.
With a huff, Harry sat down on the edge of the mattress, staring into space. If he had been back with his relatives, he'd be working his arse off doing the never-ending chores they always flung at him. His cousin would be constantly demanding food, his aunt cringing at the very sight of him as he moved from room to room. Days were always better though—most of the physical punishment began as soon as his uncle returned from work.
Most.
Harry exhaled. He really should have a shower or something… it didn't appear that he had bathed since the last morning at the Dursleys. He looked down at his arm, a frown appearing on his forehead. But how was he going to shower with his arm all bandaged and in a sling? Would it be worth the material getting soaked?
Harry bit his lip, wondering if he should wait until Snape returned. Almost immediately, a wave of reluctance coursed through him—there was no way he was going to ask Snape for help with cleaning himself. No way in hell.
"Erm… Tokey?" he called hesitantly, not sure if the summons would work.
There was an immediately crack, the small elf appearing at the end of the bed from where Harry sat. She bowed low, her squeaky voice filling the room.
"Young sir is calling Tokey? How can Tokey be of assistance?"
"Er… I was wondering if you had any ideas on how I might have a shower or something. Because of my arm…" Harry gestured to the sling awkwardly, feeling absurd. "I'm not sure if I'm allowed to get it wet."
Tokey's head tilted to the side as she stared at the injured arm. "Should Tokey attempt a water-repelling charm, young sir?" she suggested.
"Uh, I suppose? I mean, we can only try."
"Yes, yes!" Tokey beamed. "Tokey is happy to try whatever young sir wants! Come! Tokey will run a bath for young sir."
Tokey hurried quickly across the lush carpet floor, heading to a door at the other end of the room. It swung open as she approached, light spilling through the doorway as hundreds of candles flared into life. Harry stared bemusedly after her for a moment before getting to his feet and following. His jaw dropped slightly as he entered the ensuite—it was ridiculously lavish; Harry had never seen a bathroom so extravagant. The room was the size of a living room at least, and tiled in glossy black marble. Alcoves lined the walls with towel racks, sinks, and fancy looking benches. There was a pool-like tub inset into the ground, similar to the one in the Prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts, however there were no taps lining the edge that Harry could see. Around the edge of the bath was a risen lip of marble, with various rectangle holes hiding various sponges and soaps. As he stepped closer, Harry could see cut out shapes that resembled seats situated at various depths within the tub.
Apparently tone-it-down wasn't an option for this house… he thought wryly.
"What scent does young sir prefer?" Tokey squeaked then.
"Oh—I don't—I'm not sure?" Harry replied. "Why don't you choose something for me."
The elf beamed. "Tokey be choosing something very nice for young sir!" She clapped her hands briskly, and jets of water exploded out of carved holes in the sides of the large rectangle crevasse. Instantly, a soothing aroma encircled Harry. It was gentle, a mixture of lavender and honeysuckle, and it enveloped him in a deliciously warm cacoon of comfort. The tub did not take long to fill, and Harry suspected a magical helping-hand in that regard. With the extravagance that this manor exuded, Harry couldn't believe Snape didn't live here full time.
"Tokey will be casting the spell for young sir now!"
Harry looked down. The elf was waiting patiently at his side, her big yellow eyes gleaming.
"Alright, let's give it a go," Harry replied.
"Does young sir wish to remove the sling for the duration his bath?"
The dark-haired young man looked down at his arm, frowning thoughtfully. It would make taking off his clothes a lot easier.
"Or perhaps Tokey can be undoing all the bandages so young sir gets proper clean?"
"Um," was all Harry said in response.
"Tokey knows how to be bandaging young sir's arm again!"
Snape really hadn't given him a proper 'how-to-care-for-one's-injury' lecture—how was Harry to know if it was safe to remove the current bandages he had on? Knowing his luck, they were probably some kind of special bandages… like, magical or something.
"Er—maybe not the bandages," Harry finally decided. "I think I should wait until I can ask Professor Snape."
Tokey nodded her head wisely. "Yes, Tokey be thinking that be a good idea. Tokey will only remove young sir's sling and then Tokey will cast the water-repelling charm."
With a click of her fingers, Harry felt the knot slip loose, the material of his sling falling away. He carefully lowered his injured arm, wincing slightly as the burning sensation returned. Slowly, he stretched his right arm downwards as much as he could before the pain became too much, and he returned the limb to be cradled against his chest, loosely held in his left arm.
Looks like I'll be using the sling for a while then…
"Is young sir ready for me to perform the spell?"
Drawing in a calming breath, Harry nodded. With gentle grace, the spell fell over the bandages, from the tips of his fingers to the top of his shoulder, glowing a soft blue. It was a relief when the charm did not appear to antagonise his injury as Harry had been somewhat expecting.
"Tokey will leave young sir to undress now," Tokey squeaked, looking positively thrilled to have helped Harry in some way.
"Er—thank you, Tokey," Harry replied.
With a crack, Tokey disappeared, leaving only the faint rustling of bubbles as they floated lazily across the water's surface.
Harry took his time undressing. He knew it wouldn't be practical to cause further distress to his arm as he removed his clothing, and it wasn't as if he had a place he needed to be. His shirt was the more difficult article to remove, and once that had been tossed to the floor, he stepped from his pants and under garments easily, heading straight for the edge of the very inviting bath. He walked along until he came to a spot where he remembered seeing one of the higher carved steps and, with an exuberant sigh, sank into the sudsy warm water gratefully. Every negative emotion seemed to seep out of him as he lowered himself into the depths; the water felt so wonderful on his skin, as if calming charms were weaved throughout the heated liquid. He sank down until the water came up to his collar bones and allowed his head to fall back, resting against the edge of the bath, and closing his eyes gratefully.
"There be self-cleaning soaps in the water, young sir!" Tokey squeaked unexpectedly.
Harry jumped, sending water sloshing over the rim. Tokey blinked innocently at his side, head quirked slightly, and not at all perturbed at Harry's state of nakedness.
"In case young sir finds it being hard to wash with his sore arm," she continued, "the soaps clean for you!"
"Th-Thank you, Tokey." Harry coughed awkwardly, feeling his cheeks grow hot.
"Would young sir be liking anything to eat? Tokey can prepare food whilst you bathe!"
The prospect of food did not sit well with Harry's stomach. He shook his head.
"No, it's alright thank you, Tokey."
The Elf's face fell.
"Er—but maybe a drink would be good?" Harry continued, feeling bad. "My stomach is feeling a little off at the moment."
"Tokey will fetch tea!" she announced excitedly. "Tea is being good for upset stomachs!" She disappeared instantly, allowing Harry to relax in momentary privacy.
At least this isn't so bad… he thought.
The lack of angry voices that usually yelled at him from the other side of the bathroom door was a refreshing change. Of course, they had been replaced by an incessantly eager house elf… but still…
Water dripped from his tanned skin as Harry lifted his left arm, wiping his damp hand over his face as he laid his head back once more against the edge of the tub, allowing his eyes to take in his surroundings. The superior quality of the bathroom was so foreign to Harry it made him feel like an interloper. The entire manor was so unreal, so artificial… it made it all the clearer that Harry did not belong. He shouldn't even be here. Not with Snape—not with anyone. He should still be at Private Drive, avoiding his relatives and just waiting out each day before he could go to the Weasleys where he was actually wanted.
Where people actually cared for him.
Snape doesn't fucking care… Harry sunk a little lower in the water. He's just doing what Dumbledore asked…
The hollowed echo that had settled in his chest after waking in the Hospital Wing was a growing ache; a brewing storm cloud. It was easy for Harry to recognise, it was the same one he had felt for months after Sirius fell through the veil.
And yet… Harry was too tired to be concerned.
Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep, steam filled breath, and allowed the water to attempt to soothe his exhaustion.
There were several thuds as Severus lowered three large terrariums onto wooden benches. Each terrarium held a different coloured snake, and it was with gentle gestures of his wand that the Potions Master slid each of them into position carefully. Although many would assume that he would regularly use their venom in various potions and nothing more, Severus was rather fond of his scaled serpents. He considered them the only company he ever needed, especially since they could not speak back.
"Welcome home, Master!"
Snape supressed the automatic shudder that ran down his spine.
This will never be my home… he thought bitterly.
"Thank you, Tokey," he replied instead. "I assume nothing disastrous occurred whilst I was absent?"
Tokey shook her head, ears flapping. "Master's guest is being very well behaved. He had a bath and some tea."
Snape paused. "Has he eaten?"
The elf shook her head again, albeit sadly, and her big yellow eyes shone with unshed tears. "No, Master," she whimpered. "Tokey is being very sorry. Tokey should have provided food anyways. Master's guest be saying he wasn't hungry."
"Foolish boy," Severus uttered, pulling out shrunken racks of vials from his pocket. "How on earth is he supposed to improve if he does not eat." He set the racks down on a bare section of bench and returned them to their regular size. "Inform the boy that if he does not eat right now we will not be fetching his glasses."
Tokey disappeared. Snape stared angrily at the bench top.
Idiot boy. No doubt used to a lavish style of living if he can't even fetch himself food.
Even still, as the thought dimmed, Snape felt an uncertain niggle at the back of his mind.
It's nothing… he thought determinedly. The boy is simply lazy.
"Master be telling Tokey that young sir must eat!" Tokey squeaked. "Master said that he and young sir will not get glasses unless young sir has some food."
Harry's stomach lurched. God, he was so not used to this. Back at the Dursleys, Aunt Petunia would thrust a slice of bread and cheese in his face whenever she deemed it time for him to eat… which usually only included mid-morning and dinner, so he rarely had to even consider meals unless he was cooking for his relatives. Even at Hogwarts there were scheduled meal times, and more often than not it was because he was with Ron and Hermione that he even remembered to eat.
"Tokey will be making something for young sir right now!" the elf said adamantly.
"Alright, alright, but please, Tokey, something simple?" Harry interjected, worried the elf would return with a buffet style plate.
Tokey frowned in puzzlement, tilting her head as she studied the brunet.
"Er—because of my stomach, remember?" Harry continued. "Not feeling well?"
Her eyes widened in understanding and she nodded vigorously. "Of course, of course!" and she popped away with another crack, leaving Harry to groan into the silence.
What the hell did Snape care if he ate or not? Not getting glasses unless Harry ate something? Seriously?
"The git just can't help himself, can he," Harry muttered bitterly. "Just has to keep reminding me who's in charge. Treating me like a fucking child."
It wasn't long before Tokey had returned with, thankfully, a simple sandwich and a glass of water. Harry eyed the now blurry food with minimal excitement but knew that Snape would hold true to his threat if he didn't at least consume something. And there was no fucking way Harry was going without his glasses for a day longer.
"Master be saying that once young sir is done, he is to be meeting Master in the foyer ready to go," Tokey said, placing the tray on the bed. "Tokey will be telling Master when young sir has finished his food."
"Alright," Harry acknowledged, reaching for the sandwich. "Thank you, Tokey."
Twenty minutes later, Harry was reluctantly descending the stairs that led to the foyer. Despite how much he desired having glasses again, the prospect of going anywhere with Snape as his guardian ruined the entire experience. Per Snape's request, Harry was dressed as inconspicuously as he could manage, his pouch of wizarding money tucked away in his jeans pocket.
As promised, the professor was waiting for him beside the fireplace, arms folded and his long face forcibly blank. Harry sucked in a deep breath, willing for patience.
Whatever snarky comments he makes just ignore them… you know there's no point in rising to his bait…
As Harry neared, Snape removed his wand from up his robe sleeve.
"Do not move whilst I apply the glamour," he commanded, eyes tracking over Harry's form in speculation. "Even a miniscule movement can be enough to flaw the charm."
Harry did so, feeling awkward as his teacher moved around him with slowly sweeping movements of his wand. He felt the glamour tingle as it settled over him.
"While we are out you will refer to yourself as Alexander Smith." Harry glanced up, staring at Snape as the man came to stand before him once more. "You may mention that you attend Hogwarts if asked, however, it would be prudent to name a different house to avoid raising suspicion. Keep your answers simple and short. Avoid all personal details unless it is directly linked to your health or eyesight, understood?"
Harry nodded.
"And do try not to bring attention to yourself."
Harry bit his tongue. He nodded again.
And then Snape was turning, heading towards a mirror that hung a few feet away. Harry watched, slightly transfixed, as his professor applied his own glamour, his features melting into a face that he did not recognise. Although his eyesight prevented him from seeing distinct details, Harry could tell that Snape's hair was no longer black but a deep auburn, his eyes not as dark and his hooked nose now small and rounded.
Harry wondered what he looked like now.
"I will go through first," Snape announced, returning to the fireplace. "You will wait exactly 60 seconds before following me, is that clear?"
"Yes, sir," Harry replied, swallowing back a sigh of exasperation. He had only been with the man for five minutes and he was already feeling exhausted.
St Mungo's was positively humming with life as Harry stepped dizzily from the hearth. Once again, he felt Snape's unusually strong fingers grip his upper arm, preventing Harry from falling face-first onto the cool, tiled floor.
"This way," Snape said briskly, barely waiting for Harry's equilibrium to return, and directing him down the nearest corridor.
It wasn't hard to notice how tense Snape had become all of a sudden. His wand was concealed inconspicuously in his hand and his eyes swept constantly, as if waiting for a threat to jump right into their path. Harry couldn't imagine what threat there might be in a hospital of all places, and it felt so weird to be the subject of Snape's… concern? Nah, paranoia was more like it.
They came to an abrupt halt before a large white welcome desk. Harry hadn't really caught sight of which department they were in—obviously—but he could only assume it was the place where he'd be getting his new glasses.
"Good afternoon," Snape began in a bored tone, "we are in need of an eye specialist." He gestured to Harry standing beside him. "The boy requires a new set of spectacles."
The Medi-Witch sitting behind the counter moved her gaze from Snape to Harry.
"Name?" she asked.
"Alexander Smith," Harry replied. The words felt so strange falling past his lips as he spoke and he tried hard not to appear awkward. Easier said than done.
"Have you been to St Mungo's before, Mr Smith?" the Medi-Witch asked.
"Er—"
"He has not," Snape interrupted smoothly. "Due to an accident, Alexander irreversibly damaged his spectacles. He simply requires new ones."
"And you are…?"
"His caretaker," Severus replied bluntly. "He is staying with me over the summer holidays."
The Medi-Witch clicked her tongue at Snape's abrasive nature before quirking her wand. A quill, some ink, and a board with parchment attached to it slid along the counter to where they stood.
"Please fill out the form and return it to me once it is completed," she droned.
Snape took the quill and parchment wordlessly, jotting down an abundance of false information. His hand sped down the length of the page and before long, he was sliding the parchment back over to the Medi-Witch.
"Thank you. A Healer will be with you shortly. Please take a seat."
And then there was that wonderful awkward silence that Harry just loved. There he was, sitting side-by-side with his Potion's professor who refused to even look in his direction let alone talk. Oh yes, just perfect.
Do it for the glasses… he told himself. Do you really want to be blind all summer…?
Lifting his left hand, Harry rubbed his tired eyes, trying to release the slowly building pressure in his head.
Not long now.
A throat cleared. Harry looked up.
"Hello," smiled a woman brightly. She was wearing traditional lime-green Healer robes.
"Um, hello," Harry replied.
The Healer was tall, with a slightly upright curved nose, pinched lips, and curly dark hair that would put even Aunt Petunia to shame.
Harry couldn't help but shudder. Typical his Healer should remind him of his aunt.
"Mr Smith was it?" the woman continued.
"Er—yes," Harry replied.
She smiled kindly. "I am Healer Harbert, the eye-specialist. Follow me please."
Harry fell into step behind the Healer, Snape right on his heels. The Professor had barely left an inch between them since they left the manor and it was beginning to unnerve Harry slightly. It was bad enough that Harry didn't exactly like people being physically close to him, but having Snape constantly brushing up against him…
"In here, Mr Smith."
Harry and Snape entered the proffered room, waiting patiently for Healer Harbert to close the door. Only then did Harry sense Snape relax. It was minimal, and Harry was sure the Healer would not have known the difference, but to him, it was almost as if Snape had flopped into a cushioned armchair before a roaring fire.
"Alright let's get started." The Healer smiled brightly at Harry. "Just take a seat here, Mr Smith," she directed, reaching out a long-fingered hand to press encouragingly on Harry's shoulder. What neither she, nor Snape for that matter, expected, was the sudden flinch from the young man as her fingers brushed against his shirt, his body curling away instinctively from her touch. Harbert blinked in surprise, hand withdrawing as she frowned quizzically at her patient. Harry, not realising what he had done, sat down where the Healer had indicated, left hand hovering subconsciously over his right arm in a protective manner. Harbert cleared her throat slightly and reached for her wand.
"When did you first have your prescription altered?" she asked, voice gentler than it had been.
"My what?" Harry replied.
"Your prescription, Mr Smith. When you first received your glasses."
The young man blinked, unable to help himself from glancing at Snape who was watching the pair with a faint frown on his face.
"My un—er, I was just given glasses when I was younger. I've never had my eyes checked," Harry replied, feeling awkward.
Harbert blinked. "Never?" she asked.
Harry shook his head. The Healer gazed at him quizzically for a moment before she shook herself, placing a gentle smile on her face. "Not to worry then," she replied. "Please remain still while I scan your eyes."
Harry did so, feeling rather nervous as he did. He watched, eyes darkening, as Harbert moved closer, gentle fingers gripping his chin to hold his head in place. The itch to pull away from her touch was almost overpowering, so much so that Harry felt his left hand clench onto the arm of the chair, fingers digging into the padding as he fought the automatic reflex.
Throughout the entire procedure, Severus Snape watched the boy's interactions with a growing sense of unease.
He did not like this.
There were too many signs; too many red-flags that did not sit well with the Professor. From the beginning, Potter had not acted the way he had expected. This could have been predicted of course—the two of them barely knew one another and no doubt each had their own assumptions about the other person. What Snape was beginning to recognise about the boy, however, was the eerily familiar signs of abuse.
"Ah yes, there is some prominent scarring in each eye, more so in the left." Harbert shifted her wand from right to left, her gaze focused on Harry's. "Yes, a new set of glasses will definitely be needed. Please hold still for a moment longer, Mr Smith, I need to make a record in order to complete a new set of lenses."
Harry swallowed anxiously. Please hurry up…
Bubbling panic was rising in his chest. She was too close, her fingers squeezing into his skin as she continued to hold his head immobile. Then, just as the hold on his panic was about to break, Harbert released his chin, stepping back and shifting her gaze to the glowing words and numbers that were now floating in the air.
Drawing in a silent breath, Harry leant back in the chair, eyeing Harbert carefully as she analysed the report.
"Alright, Mr Smith, everything looks to be in order," she said then, flicking her wand. The words and numbers faded away. "I just need to pop down to the lens department to place your order. While you wait, please have a look and try on frames. Each set of frames have momentary vision charms placed on the glass which will allow you a brief chance to see your reflection so you can choose which ones you would like unhindered." With a gesture from his Healer, Harry turned. A white screen as suddenly retracting upwards, revealing slightly out of focus shelves that appeared to be lined with various frames. A mirror was situated in the middle, separating the shelves into two sections.
"I won't be long!" Harbert called cheerfully. "The girls in the lab are very efficient."
Feeling somewhat awkward, Harry slid from the chair and turned towards the shelves. He had no idea what type of frames he wanted—all he needed was something practical and easy. He would have given anything to have Ron and Hermione with him at that moment, they would have made the situation seem a little less… daunting.
And Harry wasn't about to ask Snape for fashion advice.
Allowing himself a brief smirk at the thought, Harry reached for the first pair of blurry frames his eyes landed on. He could tell they were black, thin, and slightly rounded; they reminded him of his previous pair. But, as he slid them on and stared at his reflection—after the mild shock of seeing a blond, blue-eyed, scar-less young man looking back—Harry found himself disliking the way they sat on his face. He tried to envision them on his usual appearance but was still unhappy with what he imagined. So, with his vision currently clearer than it had been moments before, he quickly shifted his gaze over the shelves, searching for frames that appealed to him.
Sitting on a shelf on the left-hand side was another black pair. These had rectangle eye-pieces, and the frames were thicker. He took them off the shelf, placed them aside as he removed the pair on his face, and slid the new glasses into position.
The first thing that Harry noticed was how comfortable they felt. Before, his old glasses had constantly bit into the bridge of his nose, causing the area to ache throughout the day. These frames didn't seem to be as tight, and the rectangle shape was a nice change.
Huh… I rather like these…
For a split second, Harry almost turned around to ask Snape what he thought. Biting back a chuckle, Harry removed the glasses and folded them neatly, holding on to them as he returned to his seat and hoping that they'd look just as good on his regular face as they did on his current.
Sleek auburn eyebrows rose in slight amazement.
"That was rather… efficient of you," Snape commented.
Harry glanced over at his teacher, allowing a miniscule smile to curl the corners of his lips. "Despite what you may have heard, I am not one for extravagance."
Severus snorted but said nothing. Perhaps the boy is more different than I anticipated…
Thankfully, it wasn't long before Harbert returned, relieving the two males inside of their standard awkward silence.
"How'd you go?" she asked.
Harry held up the frames. "I'd like these ones, please."
The Healer practically beamed. "Excellent!" Hidden within the folds of her robes, Harbert removed a white pouch which contained Harry's new lenses. She placed them carefully on a small table after one last inspection for scratches and took the frames Harry offered her. With a few murmured words and a flick of her wand, Harbert skilfully replaced the old pieces of rectangle glass with the new lenses, grinning brightly as she handed the completed frames to her patient.
"Let's see how well they work."
Harry slid the frames back on his face.
Thank fuck.
"They're perfect," he breathed, quickly looking around the room. "Thank you so much."
"You're very welcome," Harbert replied, leaning casually against the edge of the table. "Let's hope these last a good while now, hmm?"
Snape barely held back the irreverent comment that burned on the tip of his tongue. Potter gets into so much mischief I'm surprised his previous spectacles lasted as long as they did… Instead he straightened and pinned the Healer with a stare.
"Is there anything else you need to explain, Healer Harbert?" he asked.
"Actually," she said in response, "there is. Along with your new glasses, Mr Smith, the hospital offers a set of complimentary contact lenses; something the muggles came up with you see." Her hand disappeared into the folds of her robes again and pulled out a small black box, flipping the lid open. Nestled inside were two extremely small discs.
"These tiny little plastic circles sit on the surface of your eye," Harbert continued, "and they allow you to see without the need for frames. Many find them useful during intense activities, such as quidditch." She paused then, head tilting to the side. "Do you play for your school team, Mr Smith?"
Harry's mouth automatically opened, the word 'yes' on the tip of his tongue, when he remembered Snape's warning.
"No," he murmured.
"Oh well, not to worry!" Harbert continued cheerfully. "Probably a good thing though, considering your arm. Whatever did you do, by the way?"
A chill suddenly descended over Harry as Harbert's unintended-to-be-upsetting words echoed in his ears. Oh god… quidditch. Harry hadn't even thought about it. There was no way he could play with his arm like this! He'd barely be able to stay on his broom let alone catch the snitch!
And who knows when your arm will be alright again…? It could take weeks… months even…
"Mr Smith?"
Snape cleared his throat. "Perhaps you can elaborate on these… contact lenses," he uttered.
"Certainly. As I mentioned, muggles were the first to create contact lenses and, after discovering the ingenious idea, Healers worked to manipulate them in a more permanent sense. Muggles are required to replace their contact lenses regularly, if not daily in some cases. With these however, they have been constructed with an Ever-Last charm, allowing them to maintain their durability. You may also wear them for as long as you desire as they will not harm your eyes. I do not, however, recommend sleeping with them in. They should be applied in the morning when you get up and removed at night before you retire to bed. There are instructions within the box to assist you, as well as a list of 'how-to-care-for' to ensure you get the best possible outcome."
"They sound positively miraculous," Snape agreed drily.
Harbert ignored his sarcasm. "What do you think, Mr Smith? Would you like to try them?"
Harry eyed the box thoughtfully. I guess it wouldn't hurt…
"Alright," he said finally.
Harbert flipped the lid shut and handed it over. Harry shoved it into his jeans pocket while he glanced over at Snape as the older man stepped across the floor towards him, pulling out his pocket watch and making a show of looking at the time.
"I believe time has run out for us. We must be leaving."
"Of course." The Healer stood upright and moved to the door, pulling it open.
"We thank you for seeing us so promptly," Snape stated as Harry got to his feet. "Do we settle the expenses with you or elsewhere?"
"You'll settle the bill at the welcome desk," Harbert replied. She smiled gently, presenting her hand to Harry in farewell. "Best of luck to you, Mr Smith, enjoy your summer holidays."
He offered her a small smile in response, shaking her hand as briefly as he could without it seeming rude. "Thank you," he murmured, stepping through the open doorway.
Harbert watched him go, the smile on her face fading as a frown replaced it. Turning, she spied a similar expression on the face of the older man who had accompanied her patient. They caught eye contact, a moment of dawning comprehension passing between them before it was broken, as if nothing had just occurred.
"Goodbye," Snape murmured, sweeping past her.
It was a very quick stop off at the desk. Harry paid for his new glasses, thanked the Medi-Witch, and then Snape was whisking him back down the corridor they had come, re-entering the bustling entrance of St Mungo's. Tugging the boy to the very last fireplace, Snape cast a quick eye around before applying a temporary silencing charm around them and the hearth, preventing eavesdroppers from hearing their destination.
"You will go first," Snape said. "I will be behind you momentarily."
Harry hesitated briefly, slightly worried about his exit without anyone to stop him from falling.
"Now, Potter," Snape hissed impatiently.
Jaw clenching, Harry walked to the fireplace and threw a handful of floo powder onto the ash covered bricks. He stepped into the midst of vibrant green fire, called the name, and disappeared.
Watching the boy's form become engulfed in green flames, Snape pursed his lips in determination. There was no avoiding it. It was all too clear that Potter did not react in the same manner as other seventeen-year-olds. In fact, Potter did not react in the same manner as most people.
And Severus knew.
He knew exactly what he was seeing; what he had been blind to for the past six years the boy had been at Hogwarts.
Squaring his shoulders, Snape stepped into the still warm hearth, grabbing a handful of floo powder.
Come hell or high water, Snape would get to the bottom of this.
"Prince Manor!"
A/N: Reviews appreciated! Thank you everyone who has left such wonderful reviews for this story already! I promise a bit more excitement in the next chapter, I just want to make sure I don't rush the father/son relationship between Harry and Severus and make it seem unrealistic; they have a lot of shit to work through. Our darling Draco will be stopping by veerryy soon by the way, for all of you keen Drarry lovers.