Chapter 8! Apologies for any grammar/punctuation etc mistakes. I'm not an English professor, lol. Also, I use Gdocs to write my stories, and sometimes it autocorrects things without me noticing. Not sure what else to say, so… Enjoy!

Ch.8 - Rags

Snape and Harry were walking out onto the manor grounds, their wands in their pockets. It was an hour past lunch, and time for Potter's lesson, just as Severus had promised him not a few days ago.

Earlier that day, Severus had come extremely close to losing it when Potter showed up to him with a dislocated shoulder and limping. By Merlin's beard, the boy had no sense of self preservation! To climb a shed, of all things foolish!

The boy had merely dislocated his shoulder, and his ankle had been close to meeting the same fate, according to the non-verbal diagnostic spell he'd cast.

Severus still felt obliged to upkeep his vow and protect Lily's son, no matter if said son was now seventeen and had defeated the bloody Dark Lord. And if that included teaching and training Potter, then so be it.

Tutoring Potter was, by far, the last thing Severus Snape wanted to occupy his time with, but it simply wouldn't do to have the boy not know how to adequately protect himself. From what he'd managed to gather, Potter's knowledge of charms, curses, and spells was that of a fifth-year's! He wouldn't stand a chance against a Death Eater, Merlin forbid it ever came to that.

"Alright, Potter, I want to see how well your defensive spellwork fares," he said without preamble. They were now standing in the middle of the huge, grass lawn, Prince manor behind them. It was sunny and very warm, so Severus had to leave his cloak down in his potions lab.

"Er, okay, sir. What do you want me to do?" asked Potter, a ridiculous grin on his face. Oh, how Severus missed the days when Potter would cower at the mere sight of him.

Though, he couldn't help the wolfish smirk on his face. "I will be the offensive, and you will be the defensive," he explained in his usual, teaching voice. Contrary to popular belief — again — Severus did enjoy teaching; just not dunderheads. However, he could see Potter had some potential in him.

His favourite years to teach were always the sixth and seventh years, who had enough wits in them at that age to take their education seriously. And now, how could Severus pass up the opportunity to teach the son of Lily and bloody James Potter whatever he saw necessary without the ministry's abominable curriculum? He'd always wished to teach what he deemed necessary without having to follow the Ministry's crackpot curriculum, but the fact that his first opportunity to do as such with Potter was almost too ironic

Potter readied himself, stretching his arms and legs a bit, while Severus backed up so that they were a good distance apart for duelling.

Once Potter gave him a thumbs up, indicating that he was ready, Severus sent a stinging hex at him (though it was not a mild one — there was no need for dangerous spells and curses…yet.)

Potter successfully cast a Protego and blocked the hex. Good. Now, to evolve to a more difficult level…

Severus cast a more powerful hex at Potter, which he successfully managed to block as well, but nearly missed a follow up curse when he thought the attack was over and let his guard down.

"Foolish Gryffindor, NEVER let your guard down!" scolded Severus. Unknowingly quoting Alastor Moody, "Constant vigilance!"

As they progressed, Severus sent more than mere stinging hexes, like the Leg-Locker, for example. Potter seemed to be faring well, for the most part, aside from that fact that Severus had to tell him to adjust his footing and his appalling grip on his wand several times over. At least the boy had the decency to flush and do as he was told.

Fifteen minutes in, and Severus had seen enough of the same Protego.

"Acceptable, Mr. Potter," said Severus when he crossed the distance between them in a few, lengthy strides. "However, you can not constantly rely on Protego all the time. It is a rudimentary spell, one that will not save your hide from every spell, curse, and hex thrown at you."

Panting a bit, Potter replied, "Well, I don't really know any other shielding charms."

"Of course you don't," deadpanned Severus, pinching the ridge of his nose. He then looked at him. "I am going to teach you a more powerful shield, one that will not only withstand more powerful blasts, but also repel the spells being thrown at you with guaranteed precision at your opponent."

"Brilliant!" Potter gripped his wand more tightly, looking at Severus with determination in Lily's — his! — eyes. No matter how many times Severus would look into those eyes, he would always see Lily in them, and it would always catch his breath in his throat.

Severus swallowed hard, and jumped right back into teacher mode. "The incantation is Protego Exgorgio," he lectured. "Repeat it."

Potter repeated without fault.

"The wand movement is like so," Severus showed Potter the wand movement. It was similar to the Protego one, just a little more elaborate.

Potter nodded, indicating that he understood.

Once there was an adequate distance between them, Severus sent a more powerful curse at Potter. For a second, he had almost regretted sending such a powerful curse at the boy he was supposed to be protecting, but he let go of the breath he hadn't known he was holding when Potter successfully cast the shield charm right on time. The curse bounced off the shield and came hurtling back at Severus, who repelled it with a lazy flick of his wand.

Potter gaped at him like a fish. Severus smirked. He wasn't sure if the boy was shocked that he had successfully cast the spell on his first try, or if he was taken aback by Severus' magical abilities.

Apparently, it was the latter of the two.

"Sir, that was brilliant!" Potter met him halfway.

Severus smirked. "You dared to underestimate my abilities, Mr. Potter?" Severus purred silkily.

"Er, no, sir!" said Potter hastily, shaking his hands vigorously.

"Good. You'd better not," Severus warned.

They continued to practise for a good hour. At first, Potter had been the defensive and Severus was the offensive, but twenty minutes in, they switched. Potter was now throwing all the curses and hexes he knew at Severus ("Give it all you've got, Potter. Do not hold back!"), which almost made the ex-Death Eater cringe. The boy's offensive knowledge was just as limited and lacking at his offensive.

But Severus had to admit that Potter really was good at duelling, despite his spells matching the fifth-year's curriculum. He, of course, was no match for the boy, yet Potter's attacks came strong and swift. And though Severus wouldn't admit it, he found that he didn't hate duelling with the boy.

When both wizards stood sweating and tired, they called an end to their lesson and made their way back inside the manor. As they were walking, though, it was just then when the man took notice of the boy's clothes. Why do they look so torn and tattered? And isn't that the same shirt the boy had worn for the past two days?

"Potter!"

Potter turned his head to him, but continued walking. "Sir?"

"What are you wearing?" he sneered.

Potter looked confused. "What do you mean, sir?" he asked, looking down at his shirt and jeans, if one could call them that.

"Why do they look as if they'd been pulled out of a dumpster and chewed on by a troll?" Severus elaborated, gesturing at Potter's rags with his hand.

Potter flushed and ducked his head. "Oh, umm…"

"haven't you any other clothes?"

They stepped over the threshold into the sitting room through the back door, closing it behind them. Before Potter could step any further, Snape halted him.

"Well, I didn't pack a lot of clothes with me when we went searching for the Horcruxes, so I didn't have much choice," explained Potter matter-of-factly with a whiff of irritation. The reason made sense, yet something else was nagging at Severus…

"Then why is your shirt three sizes too big for you?"

Potter blushed even more, if possible. "Er…Well…All of my clothes are from my cousin, Dudley. And he was always kind of a baby killer whale…"

Severus looked at Potter oddly. Didn't the boy's relatives provide Potter with his own clothing? Why was the bloody saviour of the bloody Wizarding World wearing rags? For reasons unfathomable, Severus felt a sudden rush of anger course through him.

"And, are your relatives too poor to buy you something as simple as clothes?" Severus pressed on in a quiet, deadly voice.

Potter looked at him apprehensively, considering his next words. Before he could reply, however, "And do not even think about lying to me," warned Severus.

"..."

"Yes or no will suffice, Mr. Potter. Sometime this year, if you please." Severus said, his patience thinning.

"No, sir."

Severus was quiet for a minute, observant, before gesturing to him to sit on a couch. Potter looked reluctant at first, but complied.

"Elaborate." Severus sat himself in an armchair.

Potter shook his head. "I don't want to talk about it, sir."

Ok, now Severus was both irritated and curious. "I did not ask you to talk about it, merely to answer my question," he said carefully, steepling his fingers in his lap.

Potter suddenly grew defensive. "What's it to you?" he snapped. Severus had obviously hit a chord. In this situation — especially if the boy had inherited Lily's temper, which he had —, it seemed preferable to keep a calm demeanour. Luckily, controlling emotions was Severus' forte.

"I am merely curious as to why the saviour of the Wizarding World wasn't provided with basic necessities such as normal clothing. I understand that you hadn't packed much with you for the journey, but that does not excuse your relatives for refusing you adequate clothing."

Potter scowled, absentmindedly poking a finger through one of the many holes in his shirt. "Well, they never really cared, so why would they," he said tersely. "I've always had either Dudley's way-too-big clothes or the things Aunt Petunia would sometimes find in the charity sections."

Severus felt his blood simmer. How dare Tuney deprive her own flesh and blood of adequate clothing? Was this some kind of sick joke? Severus remembered Lily's sister well from their childhood, and she had never been a pleasant person.

She would always try to get Lily in trouble and she greatly disapproved of magic, even though she had tried to write a desperate plea to the Hogwarts headmaster so that she would go and learn magic, too. Truly, it had always astounded Severus how the woman was even related to Lily, let alone was her sister!

He was also bitterly reminded of himself during his childhood. His clothes had also been mostly from secondhands, but at least they had fit… More or less. At least his parents had been poor, a valid excuse, as opposed to Potter's relatives.

"Potter, what clothing articles do you currently have here with you?" asked Severus carefully.

Potter glared at him from his seat with a guarded expression. "What does it matter?"

Severus growled. "Answer my question, Potter."

"I have enough, alright?" he snapped, this time standing up in the process. "Look, I really don't want to talk about this right now — not ever, for that matter. I don't know why you care, all of a sudden, but just… Forget I ever said anything!"

Before Severus could even reply, Potter all but stormed out of the sitting room, leaving the Potions Master alone with what he'd just learned about the bloody Boy-Who-Lived.


That evening, Potter didn't show up for dinner. Severus found out that the boy had ordered his food upstairs when he'd asked Nibby. Prior to this, Severus had sat in the same spot Potter had left him in the sitting room for a few hours. It was obvious that this was a very sensitive topic for the boy — Severus would know. After all, he had been just as guarded about his family life at home as Potter was earlier today. Still was.

But really, why did he care? It wasn't as if Potter was his ward or anything like that. No, Potter was now a grown wizard.

Lily would be rolling in her grave if she knew that her only son was deprived of something so basic as his own clothing by her own sister!

But that couldn't possibly be the end of it, can it? Surely, there has to be more to it.

Tuney had always hated magic, and you know it, whispered a knowing voice in his head.

Severus sighed heavily. It was obvious that Potter had nothing but rags for clothes up in his room at the present, Severus didn't need Legilimency for that. What would Lily have done if she were here now? She would have gone out and bought a whole store of clothing for her son, no doubt.

But Lily wasn't here, and he, Severus, was partially to blame. But Severus was here, and he decided then and there that if Lily could not do that for her only son, then Severus would.

Blame it on guilt…shame…remorse…the vow he had taken years ago…But this way Lily's son, not just James'. He would do this for her, in hopes of atoning for his sins and mistakes. At least slightly so.

No, Severus would do something about this, he felt adamant to. Lily's son will not walk around in secondhand rags, not if Severus could help it. And he would get to the crux of the matter. There was more to the story, he was certain of it, call it his double-agent gut feeling. Even if it took the whole summer to pry the information out of the boy, he would be successful.

But, for the time being, there was only one reasonable thing he could do to rectify the situation.

Severus had an old friend to contact.

Ch.9 coming tomorrow!