A New Place To Stay

Chapter 10

Gringotts, Wizarding World, and Muggle World

Harry woke up, stretching leisurely and wondering why he was in such a good mood. Remembering yesterday, he sat up in bed abruptly; looking at the time, he almost swore. Grabbing his clothes, he ran to the bathroom and washed. He couldn't believe he had slept so long! Or all night, for that matter. It had, without a doubt, been the best sleep he had ever had since the dreamless sleeping potion after the Tri-Wizard Tournament, or since he had been dosed with potions when Draco had attacked him. Dropping his toiletries on his bed, he went down the stairs double-time. He skidded to a halt outside the dining room and walked in calmly, willing away his heavy breathing.

"You made it; good," said Severus simply; he had heard the teenager running along the landing, so had known he would make it. He knew better than even to think about letting Harry miss a single meal. Seeing how skeletal the teenager was, he knew the boy needed to eat more. Despite the fact he had been at Hogwarts all year, Severus knew the human body could only handle so much after years of malnutrition, especially when one was getting ready to go back to less food.

"Yes, sir," Harry agreed; not even showing he was winded, he walked round the table and took his seat.

Today Harry had a big bowl of porridge with fresh fruit. What he didn't know was that Snape had known he liked it and had requested it. Harry noticed he had a milkshake, an odd-coloured one: it was chocolate with swirling caramel-looking colours in it. He warily took a sip and immediately loved it, he practically gobbled it down, and it left him feeling pleasantly full and happy.

"That was lovely, what was it?" Harry asked, his large green eyes regarding Snape without his glasses, as he had forgotten them. Snape was struck by how different the teenager looked without them; he looked more like his grandfather and mother than his father. The hair, no doubt, was Potter's, but the face… the face did look like Henry Evans', if he wasn't mistaken.

"A nutritious milkshake, Mr. Potter; the strongest one, and yes, it does taste nice, surprisingly. The second-best nutritious potion you can get tastes like spinach or broccoli," Severus smirked.

"I like broccoli," Harry said simply, digging into his porridge with gusto. It wasn't bitter and wasn't sweet; for lack of proper words ― it was just right: Strawberries, bananas, figs, cinnamon, and sugar mixed together. Harry scowled at his own thinking; next he'd have the three bears next to him saying those words. The porridge did fill him up, a lot; in fact he felt that his stomach was fuller than ever. Even more strangely, it didn't feel overly full or uncomfortable, but just bothersome enough that he knew it was there.

"Finished?" Severus asked, once Harry had drunk his orange juice.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied.

"Polyjuice potion is not ideal for going to Gringotts, and Glamours aren't very reliable either, but we have no choice but to use them," Severus smoothly announced.

"Oh," Harry nodded jerkily.

Severus smirked wryly― so the boy knew what Polyjuice potion was; but then, of course he did: Crouch had been using it, and he had commented on what it was. It obviously wouldn't take long to join the dots, even if the boy had been as daft as he had accused him of being on occasion.

"I'm not spending all day shopping, Potter, so you'd best be on your best behaviour, and quick about it, too. Spending large amounts of time isn't what we want to do, and I do not want you using magic. They will have your signature, no doubt, and will be waiting for you to use it, seeing as you have in the past," Severus said sternly.

"I've only done underage magic once since I started at Hogwarts, and that was because Marge—my Uncle Vernon's sister— she said my mum had bad blood and that there was something wrong with her. She compared her to her disgusting puppies. Vernon had told her my mum and dad were drunk layabouts who got themselves killed in a car crash," Harry defended himself furiously. "I wasn't the one that did that hover charm! I didn't even learn it in first year! How was I to know? Dobby the Malfoy house-elf did it to stop me from going back to Hogwarts. He knew what Lucius Malfoy had done and was determined to save me… why me, I'll never know."

"And the tongue?" Severus demanded smoothly.

"Fred and George dropped one of their sweet tricks on the floor; Dudley was on a diet and couldn't resist. He ate it and ended up with a tongue the size of the living room. Part of me is so glad I didn't have to go back this summer," Harry shuddered in fear of what could have been done. He knew what Vernon was liable to do to him; it was Dudley that was unpredictable. Dudley couldn't care less whether he broke his bones or not, or whether he could do his chores. In fact, he loved it if he was able to get Harry into trouble, and took great delight in watching him whipped as hard as Vernon could. Harry was just glad Vernon was so out of shape that he couldn't last long, or he had no doubt each beating would have gone on much longer.

"I see," said Severus; how much had he misjudged the teenager? If what he said was correct, then he had only done one piece of accidental magic. There was nothing he was happier about than the fact it was over his mother. It seemed she wasn't forgotten by everyone after all. Severus had hated the fact that Lily seemed forgotten in the entire Boy-Who-Lived rubbish. Here sat a boy who loved his mother very much, obviously, to get emotional enough to blow up Marge Dursley. It was an impressive display of wandless accidental magic. Most people could make something disappear or smash something in anger; he had known Lily was powerful, seeing her actually manipulating her magic to make her float and to make dead flowers come back to life. If he knew some of the things Harry had done, he would be shocked to the core. Apparation, shrinking charms, Reducto curses, vanishing charms, and even colour-changing charms, which weren't taught until seventh year. The teachers didn't want to teach children things that would make them even worse during school, which included the distraction charm that made everyone ignore you or scuttle around you. Coloring charms and the like, things that could help students' pranks, were always taught last.

"Stand in front of me; we will apply the charms," Severus said abruptly. "Do try to avoid using names if you can help it; you can call me sir, if it comes to it."

"Yes, sir," Harry acquiesced, wondering if he would have even called him anything but.

"This is a Portkey, and whatever you do, Potter, do not let it be seen, or they will know. It's got the Prince coat of arms on it; do you know what that means?" Severus asked, the last part almost sarcastically.

"No, sir," Harry murmured in confusion.

"The Prince name is as well known as the Potters'; if anyone sees it, it will be automatically connected to me," Severus explained, his voice dangerous.

"Oh. I'll be careful, sir," Harry said, taking the Portkey with sweaty palms; he looked green around the gills. Severus wanted to whack himself; of course the child would be deadly afraid of them. He had ended up seeing Voldemort's rebirth the last time he had touched one.

"Listen to me, Potter: it will only take you right back here. I configured it myself, and if I had wanted to send you away, trust me, you would already be gone," Severus said. He hadn't been able to help himself, he had to be cruel to be kind, a let-old-grudges-die-hard sort of thing. Strangely enough, Harry seemed to draw confidence from his words, as some colour came back to his face.

"Okay, let's do it," Harry said, taking comfort from the cold, sarcastic words.

Severus quickly charmed them both. It wasn't his long suit, but he had perfected glamours. It was the only way he could move around without suspicion clouding him like a mist. It stopped his former acquaintances from bothering him when he did go out; however, he hadn't put one on someone else before. His magic was strong, but if Potter didn't want it on, it wouldn't take much to break through the charms and leave the real boy standing there.

"Do you need anything else, Potter? Before we go?" Severus asked smoothly.

"No sir, nothing," Harry murmured, actually rather excited about going shopping and to Gringotts.

"What about the Tri-Wizard winnings, Potter?" Severus asked, arching an eyebrow in curiosity.

Harry suddenly found the floor very interesting; Severus had to strain to hear his next words. They left him stunned, baffled, shocked, and a small bit proud that the boy, despite his money worries, had given it away. "I gave my winnings to Fred and George; I had wanted to give it to the Diggorys, but I don't know where they live," Harry admitted sadly.

"Despite the fact you were worried you wouldn't have enough left to get yourself through Hogwarts?" Severus asked; his voice was different from anything Harry had ever heard.

"I didn't want it," Harry insisted, his face screwed up in distaste.

"Indeed; very well, shall we go?" Severus coolly asked.

Harry nodded his head, clasping the Portkey through his pocket and making sure it was still there. If anything happened, he was safe in the knowledge someone cared enough to take measures to get him back safe and whole. Cared was maybe going too far, but someone that wanted to ensure he was alive and fed. It was all rather strange for Harry: Snape hated him, the Dursleys hated him; Snape fed him, and the Dursleys didn't. The Dursleys would kill him, but Snape would save his life. It was a mass of contradictions, and he wasn't used to that. Hate, he could handle; someone that apparently hated him but saved his life constantly, he didn't know how to deal with.

Before long, both man and boy apparated outside of Gringotts. Harry did a double-take, looking at his professor. Blond hair? Blue eyes? Red t-shirt and—bloody hell!— a pair of jeans, and a black cloak? He had never seen a more absurd sight in all his life and had to stop himself from laughing at the image of Snape actually wearing such clothes, and not the glamour he could see.

"Let's proceed," Severus said, his voice different, more gruff than normal.

Harry just nodded, not wanting to hear what his voice would be like; it didn't surprise him that Snape's voice was different. Everyone knew Severus' Snape's voice, it was too distinctive to remain unaltered. It was the most defining thing about him; that voice was unmistakable. Harry wondered if his grandparents had known that even when he'd been a child. The voice of a poet, if he remembered correctly—and he did, because he'd spent a long time looking at the writing, trying to imagine his grandmother writing with such a hand.

That was the one thing he knew he could agree on with his grandmother: Snape did have the voice of a poet. It was just a damn shame that Snape had decided to be a sneering, sarcastic man rather than trying to rhyme words together.

"Where is your key?" Severus asked, his voice very different.

"I've never had it… Hagrid got my things in first year, Mrs. Weasley in second, Mr. Fudge in third, and of course, Mrs. Weasley again this last year," Harry whispered very quietly so no one could even try to overhear.

"Po… you idiot! You aren't supposed to give your vault key away or let others handle it!" Severus angrily snapped, shaking his head in agitation.

"How was I supposed to know?" Harry cried indignantly, as he was propelled forward towards one of the goblin desks. Severus knew they could see through all disguises, so simply in his best teacher's-voice he demanded a room and a goblin to see them.

Minutes later they found themselves in a very big room; Severus had thankfully calmed down. Honestly, how could Harry be so bloody clueless? Why hadn't they given the boy his vault key? He ignored the fact he wouldn't have given it to an eleven-year old, either. Then again, it hadn't been his responsibility; if it had been, the child would have at least known it was there.

"Hey, Griphook," Harry murmured without thought as the said goblin came through the door. He missed the shocked look on the goblin's and Severus' faces as he looked curiously around the former's office. There were a lot of gold and silver instruments, and marble everywhere; it was a beautiful place.

"You serve Mr. Potter when he comes to the bank?" Severus asked, his voice low and dangerous; his temper was close to the surface, Harry realized. He began to feel quite sorry for the goblin, but they were made of stern stuff, or rather, er, looked it.

"I do," Griphook acknowledged, his head staring straight up at the intimidating wizard.

"Care to enlighten me as to why it wasn't explained to him how much money he has, and his inheritance wasn't discussed with him?" Severus inquired, his silky voice sending shivers down Harry's back. He was definitely mad, and the odd thing about all this was, he wasn't mad at Harry! He hadn't known anything could make Snape angrier than he could.

"I wasn't given the opportunity; Mr. Hagrid wouldn't allow it," Griphook stated without hesitation.

"And you left it at that? You disobeyed Gringotts policy?" Severus asked incredulously.

"I hadn't been aware it would be the last time I saw Mr. Potter," Griphook responded. Harry thought he looked a little nervous around the eyes, though the face remained the same ― impassive.

"Then I want it explained to him now," Severus demanded, his onyx eyes narrowed.

"Yes, sir," Griphook said, going around the desk and sitting down, rummaging through a massive drawer― a drawer that shouldn't have fit in that small desk, that was for sure. Harry almost grinned: he loved magic! Eventually the Goblin pulled out a massive folder and placed it on the table and began reading through it.

"Let's see... from the Potters, you have the ancestral Potter manor in England, a house in Godric's Hollow, a seven-bedroom house in Scotland, and another in England, a cottage and house in Ireland, and a house in Wales," Griphook announced, flipping through the property list. "This is a list of all the transactions you have made; this is a list of statements, which include how much you have and the interest you receive in your vaults. This shows the contents in all vaults," Griphook explained as he handed sheets of paper over to Harry. "From your mother you received a house in Privet Drive and a vault," he continued, handing over another few sheets.

Harry felt like laughing: he owned the house in Privet Drive! He owned the house, yet had remained in a cupboard; the ironies of life never ceased to amaze him sometimes. "How do I own number four, Privet Drive?" asked Harry curiously.

"Your grandmother and grandfather signed it over to your mother, obviously; and in turn you, her son, are next entitled to the house," Griphook told him.

Severus didn't bother trying to tell the teenager what he had done, he was rather curious to see if the teenager had the Slytherin cunning and guts to want them evicted from the house. If it had been he who had owned the house he'd grown up in, he would have chucked his father out.

"So I can throw them out?" Harry asked curiously.

"You can in one year's time, as the contract runs out then, unless they do not adhere to the conditions put forth in said contract," Griphook agreed, then qualified his statement.

"Dumbledore wouldn't be happy with that," Harry grinned, his green eyes sparkling with glee. Once again Severus noticed that he didn't have his glasses on; perhaps he would do best to tell the boy about the corrective surgery he could have. It would be best; after all, glasses were a hindrance when duelling. Or so he insisted to himself, it was certainly nothing to do with making the boy look less like James Potter.

"Mr. Potter, get yourself a Gringotts card, it works in both worlds," Severus advised smoothly. "It will save you from having to carry money and get it converted."

"It can be done for you right now, Mr. Potter, if you should wish it," Griphook offered politely.

"Yes, please," Harry said eagerly. He would have to make sure it remained hidden from the Dursleys, should he be sent back there. Dumbledore would always get his way, and Harry knew this, so he didn't even attempt anything yet.

"Very well; if you would wait here, I shall see it done," Griphook said, leaving the room as quickly as his small legs could carry him.

"Mr. Potter, I see you don't have your glasses on," Severus remarked calculatingly.

"No, sir; they hurt my eyes worse than not wearing them," Harry admitted.

"When was the last time you had your eyes tested?" Severus demanded. Perhaps his eyes were too bad to get the corrective surgery, especially if they were going downhill that fast. People usually got their eyes tested every two or three years unless they had problems, such as diabetes. He was confused as to why Harry had gone completely red, as if he was utterly embarrassed.

"I've never had them tested; my aunt brought me a pair home from Mrs. Mason's bin," admitted Harry reluctantly. Snape knew when he lied, so there wasn't any point, really. He also knew the worst, so what could it hurt to know that tidbit of information?

Severus narrowed his eyes; oh, Petunia Dursley was so going to get cursed when he got back. Perhaps it was time to use his experimental potion on them, one he was making for the Dark Lord. He could think of no one better to test it on, and for once he hoped it would bloody work. The Dark Lord wanted a potion that worked like the torture curse, but without the permanent effect of insanity. Of course he would never hand it over, unless it meant his death. He knew the irony of all ironies: it would end up used on him the most. Those thoughts calmed him down and brought him back; the teenager was staring at the floor, a red flush still permanently painted over his cheeks.

"If you wish it, there is corrective surgery you can have done; it only takes ten minutes at the most. It does sting like hell, but once it's over, you would have perfect eyesight and won't have to worry about glasses or headaches," Severus conceded smoothly.

"Oh," Harry said; he had to hold back the urge to say "wicked" as Ron usually did when he was hyper or excited. The thought of not having to wear glasses was a very relieving thing. He wondered why no one had ever told him that before—or was it simply to keep him looking and acting like James Potter that they didn't dare suggest something that would blow their images of him?

"Here you are, Mr. Potter. Madam Malkin's does some really nice wallets; perhaps you should go and see about getting one done," Griphook suggested, handing over a gold Gringotts card.

"Thank you, Griphook," Harry nodded; he took one look at the totals sheet and shook his head. No wonder Snape had laughed at him; he couldn't spend all that if he tried. Looking over the Vault Contents summary, he noticed that everything from Godric's Hollow was in a vault that had been opened the night it had happened.

"Stop the money the Dursley's are receiving in payment for their care of Mr. Potter," Severus demanded of Griphook. "They are no longer responsible for him."

"It will be done," Griphook replied immediately.

"Can we go to the eye place, please, sir?" Harry asked softly and cautiously. He wasn't sure how asking where to go would be taken by his teacher. Obviously Snape hated silent people, or he wouldn't demand a verbal answer from him all the time. It was the opposite with the Dursleys: they didn't like hearing his voice or having him asking questions.

"Very well, let's go," Severus agreed, already walking towards the appropriate shop.

"I have a customer here that would like his eyes seen to," Severus declared as soon as he walked into the shop, in his usual no-nonsense manner.

"Very well; come in here and take a seat," Amy Bizet replied.

Harry did as he was told, suddenly feeling very nervous. What was worse, he got comfort out of the fact that his teacher was there with him, and that just wasn't normal. Snape hated him; he wasn't supposed to be comforted by the man's presence.

"I'm going to check to see how bad your eyes are; they have to be better than twenty-five percent, or the operation won't work, understand?" Amy asked softly and professionally.

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said nervously.

He had to stop himself from flinching a mile when she raised her wand; she set it between his eyes. He could feel the woman's magic touching them before withdrawing; before he knew it, paper was coming out of her wand.

She "hmm'ed" and "haa'ed" a few times before she began speaking again. "His eyes are quite bad, but the surgery will work," Amy decided, nodding her head; a neat bun stopped her hair from moving with her.

"Very well," Severus said smoothly.

"Now, how will you be paying? Cash, cheque, or card?" Amy asked, a form already being filled in.

"Card," Harry answered, handing over the said item almost reluctantly. Thankfully his name wasn't required to be on the front of it, or everyone would have known he was there by the time he left the shop.

Once the payment went through successfully, he was asked to lie back against the chair, which he was hesitant to do. He hated the unknown, and the thought of lying there defenseless while she did something to him rubbed him up the wrong way. "Why?" he asked cautiously.

"Don't worry; we will bind you to stop you from rubbing at your eyes. It will be done within five minutes," Amy told him, intending to soothe him.

"No, I'm not being bound by anyone!" Harry declared, his voice taking on an hysterical edge at the end.

Severus had to stop himself from snapping, by seeing it from the boy's point of view. He knew the boy had been bound while Voldemort was resurrected. Closing his eyes, he sighed in exhaustion; it was harder than he would have believed, looking after one teenage boy. What was worse, Harry wasn't really doing anything wrong; it was within his right to panic should someone want to restrain him. He wouldn't allow it either, so with a resigned grunt he walked forward and told her to do it, that he would keep a grip on his hands.

Harry's wary green eyes met his; he didn't bother with useless reassurances, and with a nod at her the spell was cast. He did indeed hold onto Harry's hands, but it was wasted effort, as Harry didn't as much as try to move. The only way Severus could tell he was in pain was the fact that his eyes were now scrunched shut. He supposed quite angrily that it was nothing compared to the curses he had experienced over the past few weeks. Once again he was incensed that a fourteen-year-old had experienced the torture curses. His godson wouldn't get away with it; his fifth year would be a mass of detentions for what he had done. One way or another, he would get through to his godson that life as a Death Eater wasn't for him.

"Well, I wish all my patients were like that," Amy said. Despite her words and professionalism, Severus could see her eyes were wider than normal― she was very surprised by the boy's pain tolerance.

"The sink over there is available; wash out the gritty texture you no doubt feel," Amy softly instructed.

Harry nodded, wincing at the bright light once he opened his eyes. Once that was done, he sighed in relief: they weren't stinging anymore. Finally he got to see the world properly for the first time in his life. Everything was so clear; he could read everything, see every single little thing. Harry couldn't have hidden the awe for the life of him; it was just the most amazing experience he had ever experienced in his short life.

"Thank you very much," Severus said curtly, gesturing for Harry to get a move on. Harry nodded his head and said his own thanks before following Severus, ensuring he had his card with him.

"Thank you for this, Pro… Sir… Why didn't anyone tell me about it before? Or perform the spell?" Harry asked as they began making their way to Madam Malkin's.

"I have no idea; to perform the spell you must master it. It's dangerous if amateurs practice it," Severus smoothly said. "If someone did it without experience, you could have ended up in severe pain or blinded altogether."

Harry's eyes widened at that thought, but he nodded his understanding.

By then they were at Madam Malkin's. Harry let Severus order everything for him, because he himself was unsure of what to do exactly. He got a whole new wardrobe made for him, even if he did go bright red when he was asked what underwear he preferred. He missed the amused smirk tugging at the sides of Severus' face; the teacher suppressed rolling his eyes― teenagers. Honestly.

"I, um... don't care; I'll take some of each," Harry admitted, willing the flush to go down.

It wasn't long before he had a lot of clothes, underwear, shoes, boots... he even had a dragon-hide wallet. The only thing he didn't have was a casual wardrobe, Madam Malkin's didn't have normal clothes for everyday wear, just everyday wizard wear for school and special events. He shuddered at the very thought of a new Yule ball; one had been enough to last him a lifetime, and wizards' lifetimes were longer than Muggles'.

"Would you like your purchases shrunk?" Madam Malkin asked, handing Harry his card back. He had taken the wallet out of the packaging so it didn't get shrunk with the rest of the stuff. He placed the card in the wallet; despite how nice it was, it felt awfully empty, by itself in its own pouch. Shrugging his shoulders, he put his wallet in his pocket, feeling very smug and satisfied, and he wasn't sure why.

"Yes," Severus curtly said. He wasn't going to force the teenager to lug it around; he already looked as if a slight wind could knock him over. He had started the teenager on nutritious milkshakes and was giving him as much protein as he could. It would bulk him up― it was usually a high-protein diet that body-builders used, and that's what Harry Potter needed.

He took them into a café, and Severus ordered for both of them, ordering a normal lunch for himself and a fish dish for Harry. Fish, meat, and dairy― it was all rich in protein― and also a big glass of milk. He could see the child was confused, but he wasn't about to tell him he was concerned about him.

Hopefully by the end of the summer, he would have put on enough weight to get to a normal state for a boy of fourteen. Unfortunately, he wouldn't ever reach his intended height even with Snape's potions, but he could try. He couldn't believe people saw a hero when they looked at the scrawny boy; even his father hadn't been that small.

Harry could say he was very surprised when Snape ordered for him, but then that would be a lie; he was surprised his teacher had stopped for lunch, period. He couldn't deny, though, that the fish was amazing, and it filled him up. He didn't get fish very often, and he rather liked it, although he left the tail end of it after he found a little bone.

"Finished?" asked Severus when it was obvious he was. Harry just nodded, however, and before long they were apparating to the Muggle world. This surprised Harry greatly; then he remembered what Snape had told him: his father had been a Muggle, and he had obviously lived in the Muggle world, at least until he was seventeen years old.

It wasn't long before Harry was buying a whole new, different wardrobe. This time it was mostly everyday clothes he was buying. Jeans, jogging trousers; he got a few pairs of combat trousers he liked. Khaki-coloured ones; the colours the boy was buying actually surprised the Potions teacher. Harry even got a pair of chinos, turn-up shorts, and trousers in different colours.

Finally it was paid for, and Severus was looking for a spot to apparate from without people seeing or running into them. It was harder to apparate nowadays, with the advanced Muggle technology, CCTV in every direction― something they did not teach witches and wizards in Muggle Studies.

"Sir? Can I go into Boots to get some toiletries? I've, er, run out," Harry said, looking at his teacher worriedly. He knew he was pushing it, asking and asking, but he really needed new stuff and wasn't asking to annoy him.

Severus saw the veiled worry shining through the fixed green eyes; he felt saddened by it for some indefinable reason. Was Harry Potter that beaten he was hesitant to ask even a single question? Or was it just because he was with him? He had to find out just how badly the damage was the Dursleys had inflicted on Harry Potter.

"Of course, come," Severus said, hiding his exasperation. They quickly got into the shop and began browsing. Harry had a basket in his hand, and he was putting things he really needed into it: a new shaver, razors, shaving cream, three tins of deodorant, toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, two bottles of shower gel, two bottles of shampoo and conditioner, and a new facecloth. He didn't even roll his eyes when the boy put muggle sweets and crisps into his basket and waited at the side for him to pay for everything. He didn't understand why the boy had bought muggle toiletries; the wizarding world had better stuff, and it lasted ten times longer.

"Is there anything else you need?" Severus asked, almost tempted to add "Mr. Potter" at the end, but forcing himself not to. Who knew who was lurking around; call him paranoid, but it was better paranoid than dead, at any rate. He was a spy; it was his job to be so damn paranoid. He instinctively knew the Dark Lord was too weak to do much of anything, never mind a raid, but the Death Eaters could be ordered to go on one. The Dark Lord seemed to be keeping himself on the down low; he hadn't planned on anyone knowing he was back. How anyone would explain how Harry Potter was supposed to have been found dead, Severus hadn't an idea. Thankfully that wasn't the case; once again he shook off his wandering thoughts even as his hawk-like eyes scanned the vicinity.

"No, sir, thank you, sir," Harry quickly said, not wanting his teacher to think he was ungrateful. He had never felt this carefree, even if he was with Snape, before in his life. The freedom just to spend money was extremely liberating, and he could have done it for days. However, Harry wasn't one to waste money; he bought what he needed and no more.

"Then let's get back and see what's been made for dinner," Severus grunted; he was rather hungry, and it was beginning to get dark now. Before long, they finally found a deserted alleyway and apparated into Prince Manor without being seen. Severus unshrunk everything and floated it to Harry's room.

"Go shower, change, and put everything away, then come down for dinner; do not worry about the time. It can wait― but only for today," warned Severus, and Harry nodded eagerly, already bounding up to his room.

Severus went to check on his guests. The rats had stopped moving; they were just watching him wearily. The skinniest of the lot started screeching as soon as it saw Severus; it was a good job he knew which was which. Severus threw a pain curse at her, not an unforgivable, unfortunately; he had no desire to go to Azkaban. This would be painful, though, and it would make him feel better. After everything that had happened today—Harry's poor eyesight, the fact he hadn't had his eyes tested or glasses of his own, his pleasure at buying something, clothes of his own—had touched Severus deep down, perhaps because he knew what it was like; he knew how the teenager felt, personally. He had been the same. Once he had finally passed his Potions Mastery and begun earning money, then of course he got the Prince money too. Being able to buy something felt very infectious; seeing the green-eyed boy so happy had almost done that to him.

Vernon and Dudley squealed and hid as far back as they could from him and his wand. Leaving the mother and wife of the rats to squeal and squirm in pain, he continued using different spells for at least twenty minutes before he quit. The room was deadly silent after that, it was as if everything was afraid to breathe for fear of something happening. Once he knew that Tuney was still alive, he turned around and abruptly left, feeling better about everything once more.

Dinner for Harry consisted of steak, egg, and a few vegetables, all things that were good for building muscle. Harry thought it rather odd; who wouldn't? Egg and steak? Not exactly something that you'd make together, but he didn't mention it. As usual he never went hungry as it filled him up, the milkshake even more so. Dessert was low-fat yoghurt with fresh fruit―he had two bowlfuls; he couldn't get enough of it. He was feeling pleasantly full and happy, surprisingly, exhausted after a day of shopping.

Edited by Jake and Jordre thanks guys