A/N: Characters and world property of JK Rowling. No copyright infringement intended.
Beta Love: ambiguousgoldfish, the best beta in the world
Of Blacks and Boarhounds
By Zorak23
Noticing that the boy still looked pensive, he added, "You may always come to me if you have any… questions or concerns, Harry. About anything, of course, but especially about… this."
"Really, sir?"
"Really."
"Well, I do have one question…"
"Yes?"
"Why, exactly, do we need hair in our armpits?"
Chapter Fifty Four
July 7, 1992
Tuesday dawned bright and early, as Poppy wanted to see Harry before his nine o'clock appointment with the muggle caseworker. After completing their morning ablutions and choking down a hasty breakfast, Severus, Lulabelle, and Harry were stood in the receiving room, waiting for the matron to arrive.
With a wide yawn, Harry asked, "How long will it take to get to Surrey? I don't quite remember."
"'Bout an hour, sugar," Lulabelle said as the fire flashed green and Poppy stepped through.
"Good morning, everyone! Let's get you checked out, little lamb. I know you have places to be today."
Harry seemed rather quiet as Poppy cast her charms over his person, congratulating him on another two pounds gained. Finally, having sussed out his reticence without needing to ask, she commented, "You do know, little lamb, that there is absolutely no chance of being taken away from Severus and Lulabelle today, correct?"
Harry inhaled sharply and looked at her with wide eyes. "I—I didn't…"
"In fact," Poppy went on in the same, almost blasé tone, "The only reason you have to go see this caseworker at all is because it would be easier if the Dursleys were to be tried in muggle court before their Wizengamot trial. And as I am sure you are well aware, your professor is quite an accomplished wizard. If there are any problems at your appointment, Severus will simply Confund the muggle and whisk you away."
Harry took a couple a deep breaths before relaxing his shoulders slightly and giving her a small grin. "Thank you," he said quietly. Poppy nodded her head and hummed in response, not wanting to bring attention to his nervousness.
"Now then, I have a few recommendations for you," she said to the adults. "Two are for mind healers, one of whom deals exclusively with paediatrics, and one for a vision healer who will be able to fit Harry with new glasses containing the proper prescription. All are able to provide you with muggle-looking records if needed; most private healers offer this option for a variety of reasons, but it can be difficult to obtain such at St Mungos."
"Thanks so much, Poppy. That'll be a big help," Lulabelle replied. "I guess I didn't think about y'all havin' healers outside the hospital. I figured we'd hafta get him seen at a muggle opthamologist somewhere."
"Er, what's that?" Harry wanted to know.
"Eye doctor," Lulabelle replied, but Poppy looked sharply at the boy.
"Have you not been to one before, little lamb?"
"No, ma'am."
"Where did you get your glasses, Harry?" the matron asked softly.
"My aunt took me to the charity bin, and had me try on what they had until I could see better. Can't you just fix my eyes with magic?"
A subtle flaring of her nostrils was all of the seething anger that she showed outwardly before replying. "I'm afraid not. Even the Headmaster must put up with wearing glasses."
"There's a surgery to correct your vision, but I don't know if it's a thing yet or not. Probably better to wait 'til you're in your twenties at least, in any case," Lulabelle offered.
"Really?" Poppy and Harry said as one, making the boy giggle.
"Yeah, it's called LASIK. They do it with lasers, but that's really all I know. My aunt had it done a few years back; she said it was weird gettin' used to seein' the alarm clock when she woke up, 'stead of havin' to just feel around for it."
"That would be brilliant," Harry said rather excitedly, and Lulabelle grinned at him.
"As fascinating as hearing about eye lasers is, we need to be leaving soon," Severus said pointedly. Poppy gave him a stern look for his tone, but Lulabelle jumped up, ready to go.
"You're right, Lou. We do need to head out. Thanks again for comin', Poppy. We'll floo ya when we get back, tell ya all about it. Should be around lunch time; wanna come over and eat with us?"
"That would be lovely, thank you. If you wish, I could set up an appointment with the vision healer for this afternoon, and possibly get Harry scheduled for a consultation with the mind healer sometime this week," Poppy offered.
"You're a peach, Poppy!"
They arrived in Guildford at a quarter to nine, and quickly found the office of the social worker within the local police station.
"Ya know, back home, M*A*S*H is an old TV show, not a…"
"Multi-Agency Safeguarding Hub?" Severus drawled when Lulabelle stumbled over the meaning of the acronym.
"Yeah, that," she said with a wave of her hand. Severus and Harry exchanged glances, both hiding smiles. Severus opened the door to the waiting room, and gestured for them to proceed inside. "Weird how these places all smell the same, even in different countries," Lulabelle commented, and the young woman behind the desk looked up and grinned at her.
"You must be Mrs Tremlett's nine o'clock. Just a mo', I'll let her know you're here." They took seats on the hard plastic chairs, and Lulabelle looked curiously around the room.
"It even looks the same. Orange and brown decor, faded industrial carpet, amazingly uncomfortable chairs…"
"They're always orange and brown?" Harry asked curiously.
Lulabelle shrugged. "Sometimes there's avocado green or this hideous burnt yellow color, but pretty much, yeah. Social services is where seventies decor goes to die. Although the big one in Tulsa is pretty nice…" Harry nodded sagely, pretending like he understood what she'd meant, when the trio heard a chuckle from the other side of the room.
"You're certainly not wrong, although I do find myself curious as to how many social service offices you've been in. I'm Margaret Tremlett." She crossed the room and held out her hand to shake. "Nice to meet you."
Lulabelle stood and grasped her hand. "Nice to meet ya, too. I'm Lulabelle Blackburn, and this is Severus Snape and Harry Potter," she replied, introducing them to the thin woman. She was of an average height, with dark hair that was threaded liberally with silver strands and pulled back from her face. Her bright, welcoming smile instantly put Harry at ease.
"Please, join me in my office. We have several things to go over today."
After calling for and receiving tea for the four of them, Mrs Tremlett got down to business.
"You currently have temporary placement due to an emergency protection order. We will need to schedule a home visit before applying for permanent placement if that is your wish, and," she added forcefully, noticing Severus' surreptitious movements, "Should you draw your wand on me, sir, I shall let you know the full force of my ire with you about all of the detentions you assigned my son."
Three jaws dropped, and three pairs of eyes stared at the woman behind the battered metal desk.
Returning to her smiling countenance, Mrs Tremlett said, "My Donnie never did have a head for Potions. He was too concerned with writing his music and practising his Charms. But two months of detention for singing in the halls seems a bit much, wouldn't you say?"
"Lou," Lulabelle said lowly, shaking her head at him, but Severus raised his brow, having finally placed the student to which she was referring.
"I recall an incident where a Mister Donaghan Tremlett Charmed his guitar to play throughout the castle, at full volume, whilst he stood on top of the Head's table in the Great Hall and… gave… a… concert," Severus drawled. "Perhaps this is the incident of which you speak?"
"Donaghan Tremlett? The Donaghan Tremlett? From the Weird Sisters?" Harry all but whispered.
"Och, that boy," Mrs Tremlett replied, flushing slightly. "My apologies, Professor. I shall take my ire out on my son the next time he's home from his tour, instead. And yes, Harry. The Donaghan Tremlett of the Weird Sisters is my son. Wicked, wicked boy. I have half a mind to call him home right now… But that's neither here nor there. I assume you were concerned with the home visit?"
"Yes ma'am," Lulabelle said brightly. "But since you're a witch, we can just—"
"Oh no, dearie. I'm a whatsit, a mangle?"
"A muggle," Severus corrected with a slight smirk. "I am afraid that the house we are staying in is not accessible to muggles except by floo. Would you have access through Mister Tremlett's home, perhaps?"
"My Donnie hooked us up to the fireplace years ago. I can certainly get there that way. Now then, when would be a good day for you?"
They picked up Chinese for lunch on their way home, ordering a variety of dishes as Harry had never tried it before, and Severus wasn't sure if Poppy had, either.
They passed the containers around the table, scooping the different foods onto their plates. After watching Harry struggle with his chopsticks, Lulabelle asked Kritter to get her a rubber band. She wrapped it around the end of the chopsticks along with the rolled up wrapper they'd come in, and handed them back to him.
"This is much easier, thanks," Harry said, finally able to start shoveling food into his mouth in normal sized bites.
Lulabelle shrugged. "That's how I learned, sugar."
"I still don't understand why we can't just use cutlery," he admitted.
"We are attempting to broaden your horizons, Harry. One should be able to appreciate the variances of different cultures—" Severus started to say, but stopped when Poppy snorted.
"Oh pish. You just wanted to watch the boy struggle."
"That, too," he drawled, and Harry rolled his eyes.
After lunch, they told Poppy about their appointment. "...and her son is the Donaghan Tremlett! Do you know him, too?" Harry wanted to know.
"Let me think," Poppy said, trying to place the name.
"The Great Hall concert of 1989," Severus said dryly, and Poppy nodded in recognition.
"Oh yes, I remember now. Such a nice young man," she said, making Severus snort.
"Apparently your 'nice young man' told his mother that he received two months of detentions for simply singing in the halls," he stated, and Poppy laughed. "She threatened to take her ire out on me for the punishment, too."
"Oh pish. What else happened?"
"We have a home visit scheduled for next week, but she went ahead and signed the paperwork for permanent placement. We'll still have to be present for the trial against the Dursleys, and have a final hearing before the Magistrate for wardship, but Harry is officially in Lulabelle's permanent custody as of today."
"Oh, little lamb, I am so very happy to hear that!" Poppy gushed, wrapping her arm around Harry where he was sat next to her on the couch. Harry blushed, but leaned into her side willingly. "I knew it would work out, but to have it settled… well, that's certainly a relief." She wiped her rather damp eyes, and gratefully took the handkerchief Severus offered. She patted Harry on the leg, then said, "Now. I've made you two appointments; one this afternoon at two with the vision healer, and one for tomorrow with a mind healer. You'll be able to floo directly to their offices, as both understood the need for privacy. You shall be able to continue to do so with the mind healer; he allows all of his patients this service. The vision healer, however, usually does not. In the future, you will have to arrive through Diagon Alley like anyone else."
"Alright," Harry said, then looked up as Hedwig flew into the room and landed next to him. She extended her leg and offered him the letter tied there.
"Oh, Hermione's written! I'd asked Hedwig to stay in case she wanted to reply," he looked down as he unrolled the parchment, and removed an envelope that had been rolled up within. "Er, this is for you," he said, handing the letter to Lulabelle.
"Me?" she asked, surprised, taking the envelope from him.
"Yeah…" he replied distractedly as he quickly scanned his letter. "It's from Hermione's mum. I'd asked her when she'd be able to go to the beach; I think her mum wants to know more about it."
Lulabelle opened the envelope and unfolded the letter, smiling a bit at the 'normal' looking paper. She read:
Dear Miss Blackburn,
My daughter tells me that her best friend is wanting to have a trip to the beach. While her father and I are thrilled that Hermione has made friends in her new school, I'm sure you can understand my reservations about allowing my only child to go off with a boy we've never met before. I should like to invite you and Harry to dinner this week or the next so that we can get to know one another. Please feel free to bring Professor Snape as well, as I understand he is also caring for Harry; my husband and I would appreciate the opportunity to discuss Hermione's progress at school this past year. We are free most evenings, Tuesdays being especially good as I only work half days then.
Sincerely,
Helen Granger
Lulabelle looked up when she was finished. "We've been invited to dinner at the Grangers for this week or the next; she says Tuesdays are best, but that any day will work."
"Today's Tuesday," Harry said excitedly, bouncing slightly in his seat.
"Best write her quickly then, little lamb. You'll need to make sure it's alright with her parents as soon as possible."
Harry shot off the couch and ran for the library to fetch more parchment. He soon returned, tied his letter to Hedwig's leg, and sent her off to Heathgate once more.
Severus scowled down at Lulabelle, who patted his leg. "I'm sure you'll like her folks, Lou. They're dentists, so they're smart people."
"Anyone who has Hermione as a daughter must be clever," Harry agreed.
At precisely two o'clock, Severus, Lulabelle, and Harry stepped out of the floo at Ogilvies Optics and Eyewear for the Discerning Witch and Wizard. Harry and Lulabelle looked around in wonder, while Severus strode across the shop to the short, blonde haired wizard behind the counter.
"Harry Potter is here for his two o'clock appointment," Severus said in a clipped voice. Internally congratulating himself for not sneering at the man's pretentious spectacles, he did not fail to miss the widening eyes of the proprietor when he heard the boy's name.
"Quite right; Madam Pomfrey said one of her special students would be stopping in today. Welcome, welcome," he called to the other two. "Right this way, if you please."
He led them to a back room that held a comfortable looking armchair at one end, and had a large framed print of different runes on the opposite wall. The room was well lit, narrow, and rather long. "Take a seat, Mister Potter, take a seat," Mister Ogilvie said, and Harry sat.
"Let's find out just how well you can see currently, shall we?" the vision healer said. "Please read the smallest line you are able to see clearly."
Severus glanced at the picture and sneered. "The boy has just completed his first year, and you're asking him to read runes?"
"Quite right, quite right. My apologies, that has been left from my last appointment. Let me change it, won't take but a moment," Mister Ogilvie flicked his wand at the frame and the runes melted before reappearing as the Latin alphabet.
"Wicked," Harry breathed, causing Mister Ogilvie to smile.
"Try this, lad," he suggested.
"F, K, I, E, Y, W, P?"
"Very good. And the one below it?"
Severus raised a brow at the man's words; Harry had missed several letters, and was only a third of the way down the sign.
"L, P, O, then a triangle, C, X, and a… squiggle. I think."
"Marvellous. Now remove your glasses, and read the lowest line you are able."
Harry slipped off his glasses and squinted across the room. "I mean, I know the wall is still there, but I can't see it."
Severus snorted and Lulabelle pressed her face against his side to keep from laughing. Mister Ogilvie quirked a smile in their direction, before returning his attention to Harry. "Jolly good. I am going to cast upon you now; you won't feel a thing. I am just checking to see what prescription you'll need."
"Alright," the boy replied.
He was about to ask when Mister Ogilvie would begin, when the man said, "Right-o, that's done and dusted. Put your glasses back on and let's go pick out some frames, shall we?"
The small man led them back to the showroom, and gestured towards one wall. "This is our Young Wizard collection. Any of these can be spelled to fit, just pick several styles you like and try them on. Here's a mirror," he handed Harry a surprisingly plain hand mirror, then added, "And there's a larger one on this wall to make sure you like how they look from a distance."
"Er, which ones have the right prescription?" Harry wanted to know.
Mister Ogilvie glanced down at him quizzically and said, "Dear boy, we can put your prescription into any of these frames. In fact," he paused for a moment and waved his wand over the wall. "There. I've temporarily spelled your prescription into all of them. You'll be able to see perfectly whilst trying them on."
Lulabelle thanked the man, moving forward to help Harry pick some styles to try when she noticed him looking rather overwhelmed with all of the options. Mister Ogilvie looked at Severus and tilted his head, motioning for him to move away from the others for a more private chat.
When Severus joined him on the other side of the room, the shorter man said, "Before I begin, I want you to know that as my patient, young Mister Potter is protected under confidentiality vows." Severus nodded his understanding and the man continued, "With his current eyewear, the child was seeing 20/50. Are you familiar with the visual acuity scale?"
"I am, yes," Severus replied.
"I feel it my duty as a healer to ask how this is possible. How any child, much less the Boy Who Lived, could go around with such poor eyesight in this day and age…"
Severus sighed. "His previous guardians were… unsuitable. Miss Blackburn has had custody of him for the past week, and he is being cared for properly now. Madam Pomfrey is aware of the problem, and has been instrumental in this regard."
"Thank Merlin," Mister Ogilvie replied. "If Poppy knows, then I can rest easy. She's quite fierce when it comes to her charges. If it is not too presumptuous of me, may I ask what she calls him?"
Severus quirked a smile. "Little lamb."
"Ah yes. That makes sense, then. He'll grow into a fine man one day with that name."
"Were you, perhaps…" Severus asked leadingly.
"I was. After my graduation in 1970, Poppy helped me get placed with a healing apprenticeship."
"She helped me find a potions apprenticeship, as well," the taller man admitted.
Chuckling wryly, Mister Ogilvie said, "The gods knew what they were doing when they sent her to Hogwarts."
"That they did."
