Snape had breakfast ready when Harry woke the following morning, and he stumbled out to the small kitchen and sat down before a plate of eggs and sausage and a stack of toast. He'd become quite proficient at eating with his left hand only over the past days and made quick work of the eggs by piling them on a piece of toast, capping it with another piece and eating it like a sandwich.

"Did Dumbledore leave in one piece last night?" asked Harry with forced casualness as he buttered a third piece of toast.

Snape grimaced. "Of course. I'd hardly kill my employer now, would I?"

Harry swallowed a bite of toast and washed it down with tea. "Well, thanks, OK? I mean, for going to bat for me."

"The Headmaster has good intentions," said Snape and Harry thought he was trying for some reason to keep Dumbledore in good graces with Harry. "But he is often too much of an innocent, expecting people—even people like the Dursleys—to walk the higher ground. It is a naiveté uncommon in a man of his age and stature. But it is not excusable."

Harry smiled as he forked a sausage from his plate.

"Will Professor McGonagall take me shopping? For clothes, I mean? I'd really like to get a few things that actually fit me." He hoped he didn't sound whiny or needy.

"Actually, I told the Headmaster we'd take care of that today," said Snape. He looked slightly embarrassed for some reason. Harry, however, brightened.

"You mean in London? Muggle clothes, then?" he asked. Snape nodded, almost painfully, it seemed to Harry. "Wait…did Dumbledore give you money? I don't have enough with me but maybe we could stop at Gringotts…"

"I have plenty," said Snape. "Minerva can pay me back later if you don't wish me to use my money for your clothing. But you will be purchasing your wizard clothing in Hogsmeade with Professor McGonagall after we return to Hogwarts. Muggle clothing is perfectly fine for informal occasions but you should have appropriate wizard wear as well. You are 16 now, almost an adult in our world."

They left the flat together thirty minutes later and took the tube to the Westminster Bridge boat pier and boarded a boat for Greenwich. They spent a pleasant morning at the National Maritime Museum, ate an early lunch and returned by boat to the Tower of London. It was mid-August and the tourist season was at its peak, but despite the crowds, Harry quite enjoyed the Beefeater's introductory tour and waited patiently in queue for a glimpse at the crown jewels. The hoards of people seemed to put Snape on edge but it was Harry who suggested they leave and walk across the Tower Bridge. He felt nicely anonymous amid the crowds and they decided to head toward St. Paul's Cathedral, which they had clearly seen and admired from the elevated walkways above the bridge.

"Do you think I can make it up the stairs to the Whispering Gallery?" asked Harry thirty minutes later as they stood under the great dome looking skyward.

"Probably not," said Snape. "However, if you'd like to try, I will accompany you."

An hour later, when they left the cathedral, they had indeed made it up to the Whispering Gallery, as well as down to the crypt where the Duke of Wellington and Horatio Nelson were buried along with a great many dignitaries whose names Harry didn't recognize. They returned to the streets of London and Snape led Harry purposefully down several side streets until they came to a block of mixed retail stores.

Snape started to lay down the rules before they entered the first store. Harry stood outside looking in the window as Snape lectured. The store seemed acceptable enough—men and boy's clothing in a variety of styles and such, a bit on the stuffy side but it could have been a lot worse. They had passed several stores, in fact, that sold the type of clothing you would wear to state dinners or to accept the Nobel Peace Prize.

"Nothing torn or faded, no shirts with lewd or obnoxious sayings or designs, and yes, I shall determine what is lewd and what is not. While Gryffindor colors are appropriate on the Quidditch Pitch, you will hardly want your day to day clothing to be garishly red or gold. Trousers will fit your waist, not hang below it off your hips." He looked disapprovingly across the street at a group of teenagers in very low-slung jeans.

Harry was eying a display of colorful t-shirts obviously targeted for tourists with London-themed designs and phrases such as "Mind the Gap" and "Look Left." One shirt particularly caught his eye—a picture of the young Prince Harry with the phrase "I Wanna Marry Harry." He wondered what size Ginny would take…

"Absolutely not," said Snape, catching his eye lingering on the t-shirts.

The only experience Harry had with shopping for clothes had been at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions in Diagon Alley. He bought his school robes there and other uniform accessories, but had never been in a Muggle store dedicated to clothing. Thus, he was rather surprised when he and Snape entered the store and he wasn't immediately accosted by a woman (or a man, for that matter) wielding a measuring tape. Snape moved purposefully over to the section of the store dedicated to casual trousers.

And so it began. Harry was first made to try on several pair of pants to ascertain the correct waist size and inseam. Snape carried on a short but animated conversation with a male attendant regarding the tailoring of specific brands—apparently, he must have been expecting Harry to get taller during the coming year as he was specifically concerned with the trouser hems having extra length to be let out. Shirts were much easier—especially dress shirts—as they seemed to come in sizes based on neck circumference. Harry doubted that that particular measurement would change in the next year (unless he polyjuiced into Goyle again), but after trying on one that Snape decreed fit perfectly, he tugged on the buttoned up collar and asked for the next size larger—just in case he did grow. He tried on casual shirts and t-shirts as well, but his favorite garments by far were the jeans. Putting on a pair of jeans that actually fit was heaven. The ones he chose were pre-washed, comfortable and plain. He got one pair in blue and one in black. Snape pointed him to socks and pants last. Mercifully, he didn't provide input or guidance, nor did he make Harry try anything on. Harry picked out the boxers he preferred in a waist size to match his jeans and trousers. He added a pair of garish socks from the tourist section—in the Union Jack design. Snape opened his mouth to protest but Harry hurriedly explained they were for Dobby. Snape shook his head but didn't comment.

Two jeans, three trousers, two belts (one plain black, one plain brown), two dress shirts, three casual shirts, four t-shirts, 10 pair of boxers, two pair of pajamas and a dozen pair of socks later, Snape's wallet was considerably thinner and Harry was assuring him that he would visit Gringott's and repay him when they went to get his school supplies. Snape hefted one of the two heavy bags, letting Harry manage the second with his good hand, and said "It will be worth every penny when we go back to the flat and incinerate all of your other clothing. Now, one more stop. We may as well get all of this out of the way today."

Harry lifted his shopping bag and followed Snape out of the store and onto the street. It took a great deal of finesse to avoid the Londoners heading for the tube stations on their way home from work, but Harry managed by simply walking directly behind Snape, who seemed to have a real knack for navigating the crowded sidewalks. They walked only a block and a half before Snape ducked inside another store, and Harry found himself surrounded by shoes. Here Snape did insist on Harry being fitted. The attendant admired the boots Harry took off, whistling softly as Harry set them aside. Harry glanced at Snape but the professor's face was impassie and gave away nothing. The socks Harry wore had definitely seen better days. In fact, they'd probably seen better days before Harry had inherited them from Dudley. Snape reached into the shopping bag Harry had placed on the floor beside him and extracted a pair of plain white socks, which he handed to Harry without fanfare. While the attendant retrieved several pair of shoes to try on, Harry changed his socks and Snape unceremoniously tossed the old ones in the rubbish bin.

An hour later, after an uncomfortable ride back to the flat on packed trains with the bulky shopping bags, they ate the leftover Chinese take-out then Snape started a fire in the fireplace and, after telling Harry to stay put, tossed some floo powder in and called out "Shell Cottage." He was gone in a flash of flame but was was back within fifteen minutes, holding Harry's school trunk. He dropped it rather unceremoniously on the floor in front of the fire place and bent to open it.

Harry watched as the lid fell back, revealing a tangled mess of clothing, books, parchment and quills. Snape sighed and gave Harry a significant look.

"I will just assume that the trip through the floo has created this chaos. I will further assume that in the future this trunk will be more orderly. You are no longer a child, Mr. Potter. Take care with your possessions." He passed his wand over the top of the trunk and then lifted it slightly, moving it to the right and pointing to a spot on the floor. At least half the trunk's contents followed the wand, holey socks with stretched out elastic, worn t-shirts, graying pants, jeans with the cuffs rolled up. The robes stayed put, along with a couple of Gryffindor themed t-shirts, a hat and pair of mittens Hermione had knitted for him during her knitting craze fourth year and his Gryffindor ties.

Snape poked his wand into the bundle of black robes.

"You will need new school robes as well, I take it. You've grown several inches this year. However, as I said this morning, we will let Professor McGonagall take care of that in Hogsmeade. But for now," he said, closing the trunk and scooting it against the wall behind him, "let us dispatch with these."

The magical fire was still blazing in the fireplace but Snape turned toward it and flicked his wand again. Nothing appeared to happen, but when he picked up a pair of Y-fronts with the tip of his wand—a pair Harry had never worn as they looked as if they would fit Professor Slughorn—and tossed them in the fire, the pants gave a satisfying sizzle and disappeared with a crackle and a pop. Harry grinned.

"Be my guest," directed Snape, stepping back and taking a seat on the comfortable wingback chair after turning it to face the fire.

Harry sat down next to the pile of clothes and rummaged through it to pick out a particularly odious sweater in mustard yellow with violet sleeves. He bundled it and tossed it at the fire. It hovered over the flames as if on an invisible force-field for a few seconds then sparked and sizzled and melted in on itself, the sparking reminding Harry of the twins' fireworks at the end of last term. It took surprisingly little time to reduce the clothing to ashes and the experience was whole-heartedly satisfying.

"Wow, thanks," said Harry, standing up.

But apparently, Snape wasn't satisfied yet.

"Accio Dudley Dursley's clothing," he said, pointing his wand toward the hallway. There was an almost immediate pounding and scratching at Harry's bedroom door. Snape shook his head and spoke another spell.

"Alohomora."

The bedroom door swung open and Harry's trainers and the clothing he had worn yesterday shot down the hall and landed in Snape's lap.

"Any reason you're practically sitting in my lap?" asked Snape a moment later as Harry almost slid across the floor toward him.

"I'm wearing a pair of Dudley's boxers! Cancel the spell!"

Snape smirked. "You may use those for bedding for Hedwig," he said. Harry had forgotten about Hedwig. He went over to her to check her water and give her some owl treats, then opened the window by the perch to let her out to hunt.

After a celebratory Butterbeer, Snape pulled out the chessboard and he and Harry sat down for a game of chess. Snape had brought out the scar removal cream only tonight. "The instructions from St. Mungo's are no potions or other treatments for your arm after noon today. And nothing to drink or eat after midnight in case the nerve stripping is necessary. However, you can use the scar cream as that doesn't affect the nervous system."

As Harry applied the cream with his good left hand, he thought of something that had slipped his mind.

"What's happening with Umbridge? Did Professor Dumbledore mention anything?"

Snape was silent until he completed the move he was contemplating. He continued to study the board as he answered. "A trial is pending. Once the Headmaster opened the inquiry, parents of two other students came forward with similar claims. However, it seems that Deloris has disappeared. I have it on good faith from a friend of mine that she is currently being treated in a Muggle psychiatric ward in a hospital in Wales. As they use shock therapy at this particular institution, the Headmaster has deemed it wise to wait for the Muggles to finish their therapy before retrieving her for trial."

Harry couldn't concentrate on the game with that particular nugget of information in his hands.

"Shock therapy? You're talking about electric shock, right? Like in Frankenstein?"

Snape nodded. Harry didn't pause to wonder how he knew about Frankenstein. "I also spoke to the Headmaster about our experiment. He asked if we had worked with strong emotions or feelings other than pain. I told him we had not. He recommended that we continue our experiment, but with emotions at the other end of the spectrum. I told him we would not experiment further until we had St. Mungo's behind us."

Harry grimaced. Even with the fortuitous delay St. Mungo's offered, he knew where this was going. He distractedly moved a pawn.

"I suppose we should test whether you can feel my passion first," Snape continued. "Fortunately for you, Mr. Potter, I am passionate about many things outside of the bedroom, including potions, ballroom dancing and The Beatles."

Harry stared at him.

"Checkmate, Mr. Potter," said Snape, taking his pawn and leaning back in the chair. "We will be leaving early tomorrow—no later than 8 a.m. Pack your pajamas, toiletries and clothing to wear when you are released."

"Yeah, OK," said Harry. He stood up, his face giving away his nervousness.

"Mr. Potter," said Snape, his voice soft and oddly reassuring. "That which does not kill us makes us stronger."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" asked Harry, incredulous. He started walking down the hall but paused as he heard Snape's voice again.

"Whisper words of wisdom, let it be."