Nope, don't own it. J.K. Rowling does. Get over it.
OK, so we're ignoring Order of the Flaming Dodos. This is a fifth year fic, and Sirius WILL be cleared. Snape is slowly going through a personality transplant. I'm blaming it on hormone potions. You can blame it on the wonderful concept called Alternate Universe. This will NOT be Manipulative!Dumbledore, although there will be occasional references to old, or stupid, decisions of his.
Adjustment and an Offer
"AhhhhhhOWWWWW!" (NO, not a werewolf, Harry screaming in pain and terror.) Harry Potter slammed upright, shaking in terror, before starting to whimper. The teen slowly curled into a ball, desperately attempting to use massage to soothe the burning nerve endings in his aching right leg, which was sending constant pain messages to his still sleepy brain.
Well, 'attempting' is the operative word, since the leg in question was missing from halfway down the thigh, a fact the young wizard was still growing used to, with the help of a Mind Healer. Just one look at the wall by his bed confirmed this fact, for hanging there was the prosthetic leg the poor boy was trying to adjust to. The Healers had promised him that once he was truly used to the leg, and was using it to get around; he could do anything he wanted to. Even Quidditch. Space travel would be his only limit- unless he went Muggle, that is.
And speaking of things the young wizard was trying to adjust to, there was the dull emptiness that came with knowing that the only constant link he had to his long dead parents was now refusing to have anything to do with him. Oh, he knew perfectly well that his aunt and uncle hated him, and even that they considered him a burden. They'd never hidden this fact from him, indeed they proclaimed it regularly. However they had taken him in all those years ago, and they had always taken him back at the end of each year, even if they did hate him. But now that he was disabled, a "useless, worthless cripple" to quote Vernon, who hadn't even bothered to mask this opinion, and had instead shouted it out in front of everyone who cared to listen, the Dursleys would no longer have anything to do with him.
In fact, just to prove that Harry no longer had a place with them, and never would again, Petunia had actually dumped everything that had belonged to Harry out on the kerbside, where fortunately Arabella Figg had found the boy's belongings, and rescued them, before they were taken to the council tip. There was even one of Lily Evans' old school trunks in the pile of things Petunia tossed out. Hell, just to do a really thorough job of it, Petunia had even thrown out the furniture that used to be in Dudley's Second Bedroom, simply because Harry had been using it for the last few years, and it was therefore 'contaminated' by the Freak, and had no place being in a NORMAL household. It was unfortunately obvious that Harry had no value whatsoever to the Dursleys, now that he couldn't be worked constantly, and needed to be taken care of, rather than 'earning his keep' by taking care of them.
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and all around good egg, even though he was sometimes a well-meaning but annoyingly manipulative silly old bugger, was unsure of where Harry would live now, he had suggested the Weasleys, but that had been shot down in flames by Ron's disgusting attitude. And then the offer came.
"Drs Judith and Andrew Granger would be delighted to have the company of Harry James Potter for the summer between their daughter's and his 5th and 6th years, and, should he desire it, the following summer as well."
Harry stared at the letter in shock, before turning to his remaining best friend. "Mione? Is this for REAL?" "Of course it is, Harry. My mum and dad liked you the first time they saw you, Mum's been asking about you ever since second year, and when I wrote home, fuming, about what Ron said, according to Mum, Dad broke our BEST chandelier! Just yelled at the thing and it exploded. The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad came, and fixed the chandelier, and apparently Dad's coming to Hogwarts next year, since his fury awakened latent magic, or some such thing. Either way, Mum and Dad are insisting you come to our place for these holidays, and unless Sirius gets cleared, between now and the following summer, they want you to come over for next summer too."
Harry just stared at her. "WOW! Someone actually wants me? Even though I can't earn my keep?" "And just WHAT is that supposed to mean, young man?" asked a furious, oddly silky hiss. "Um...I...er...nothing" Harry stuttered. "Eloquent as...oh stuff it. Potter, please, using Merlin's good English, explain to me EXACTLY what you meant by that statement." Severus Snape ordered. For once, Harry wasn't sure who the scowl on his face was aimed at. *Dammit, Fate. If you HAD to let a teacher hear me, why couldn't it have been McGonagall or Flitwick?* Harry mentally screamed.
He replied politely, however. "I, uh, had to earn my keep at the Dursleys. They were always complaining about how much it cost to keep me, so I had to do chores, and sometimes if I didn't do them properly I didn't get to eat, and..." The nervous teen trailed off. Snape stood there, staring. "Firstly, WHO are the Dursleys? Secondly, whose bright idea was placing you there? Thirdly, how long have they had this attitude? And finally, who keeps making you go back?... Actually, don't bother. The second and fourth questions are clearly Albus' Greater Good. The third one is probably for as long as you can remember, and since I vaguely remember Albus saying something about one of Lily's old trunks being tossed on the curbside, I can only guess that the Dursleys are Petunia and whomever she managed to eventually marry."
"Pretty much, Sir." Harry replied, nervously. "I hadn't realised you knew my aunt, though." Snape chucked darkly, shocking his listeners. "Knew her? We grew up as neighbours, and Tuney was a vindictive little *Deleted* ever since Lily got her Hogwarts letter. She was strange before that, although I thought it was fascinating watching Lily pick up a dead flower and bring it back to life, but their mother was nervous of it at first, and Petunia used that to get us in trouble so many times..."
Harry nodded. "Dudley does that, too. Then again, if ANYTHING weird happened, no matter where I was or what I was doing, I got blamed for it. Even if Uncle Vernon got a pay cut while I was in my cupboard, I got the blame."
Ignoring, or perhaps not noticing most of what Harry had said Snape sputtered, 'cu-cup-CUPBOAD? Whose bright idea was THAT?" "Uncle Vernon's I think," Harry replied, nervously. "OooooKAY. I KNOW it's possible to hate family, to even despise them, I felt that way about my father, and not because he was a Muggle. I like Muggles in general, but Tobias Snape was a raging alcoholic. Literally. But I had hoped that in the time since I was a child, Muggles had progressed in their treatment of children, so that confining them in small, dark places was illegal."
Harry blinked. "Er, Professor? I'm fairly sure it would be illegal to refuse to feed a child for several days in a row because they scored better than another child on a test at school or something like that, but that never stopped Uncle Vernon from doing it to me."
Everyone in the room shrank back in fear at the look of fury on the greasy headed Potions Master's face. "OK. I've never tried to hide that I don't like you. And it's not all because of Potter Senior, oddly, although he's the one I use to attack you the most. I might have been a little harder on you, maybe even allowed some of the minor stuff my house gets up to if it was just about Potter Senior. But Heaven knows I would never have allowed Malfoy to get away with openly attacking you or your friends, and I would certainly never have taken his side over yours if your behaviour was clearly justified. But of course, as much as it hurts either, or both of us ot admit the fact, Potter Senior wasn't the only one who died that night."
Harry blinked in confusion, before suddenly getting it. His face cleared, and he nodded, understandingly. "You hate me most because I lived and Mum didn't, don't you?" He asked, staring at the floor. "Sometimes I hate me most because of that, too. I mean, I'm not worth dying for, especially now that I'm crippled and useless." "Here, Pott...Harry. Drink this for me, and then you really should go and have a nap." Snape said, holding out a small blue vial, his face laced with concern.
Noticing Harry's sceptical look, Hermione observed the vial for several seconds, before turning back to her friend. "It's just a calming draught, possibly laced with a cheering potion of some sort, from the slightly darker tinges, and" pausing for a moment, to check her analysis with the good Professor, who was staring at her and mouthing something about not learning those potions for another year, "I think it may also have traces of a sleeping potion in it, probably Dreamless Sleep, from Professor Snape's suggestion of a nap."
"And you and your friends wonder, Miss Granger, why I refer to you as a know-it-all," Snape had finally gotten his voice back, after staring at Hermione with his mouth open for several seconds. "You're not meant to know about cheering potions or calming draughts, at least not well enough to recognise them, before sixth year." Here, he sighed. "Then again, you're not meant to encounter more than a passing mention of Draught of Living Death until sixth year either, and you could probably have brewed the base for it in first year. And no, that wasn't a compliment. Know-it-alls rarely endear themselves to others. Even well meaning know-it-alls. I taught Lily that within a few weeks, and she was MUCH more popular for it" He snarked.
Harry laughed. "And there's the Greasy Git we love to hate!" he whispered to Hermione, who nodded, placing one finger on her lips. "Shhhhh. If he hears you, then you'll be in..." trailing off at the look on her teacher's face. "Uh-oh. He heard." She whispered, paling a little. "Yes, I heard, Miss Granger. 15 points TO Gryffindor for honesty. 10 points FROM Gryffindor for insulting a teacher within that teacher's hearing."
Pausing, to gauge the reaction of the two students he was talking to, Snape continued. "Flies, Mr Potter," for Harry's mouth had fallen open. "If you must insult me, or refer to me in a casual manner especially within my hearing, PLEASE remember to use my title. And please, Miss Granger, stop imitating a goldfish." For Hermione's mouth was opening and closing uselessly.
Chuckling, the older wizard continued, "Potter Senior got away with calling Professor McGonagall by her first name so much because he always called her Professor Minnie, unless he was flirting with her, which was DISGUSTINGLY often." He smirked at the looks of horror on the two students' faces. "I was in the same class level as him and his friends, as well you know. It sickened most of us, just how much Potter would flirt with the female teachers."
A dark chuckle, then Snape continued, almost reminiscently. "Then again, IF I didn't value my life, I just might have tried to flirt with Minerva as well; the years have been good to her, although her hairstyle hasn't. I remember when she wore it in a single braid most of the time, it was a good deal softer, and her face was far gentler for it. The war impacted us all in strange and often harsh ways." He rubbed at his left arm, unconsciously. Both students flinched.