Love Thy Neighbour by Alexannah
Past Featured StorySummary: The Dursley family move house, and Harry is horrified to find that they are now living opposite his most hated Potions Master. Between Snape and the Dursleys, will Harry make it to the Burrow in one piece?
Categories: Healer Snape, Teacher Snape > Trusted Mentor Snape, Fic Fests > #18 Summer 2015, Teacher Snape > Professor Snape, Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Dumbledore, Original Character, Petunia, Vernon
Snape Flavour: Snape is Kind, Snape is Mean, Snape is Secretive, Snape is Stern
Genres: Angst, Drama, Family, General
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe, Snape-meets-Dursleys, Spying on Harry! Snape
Takes Place: 4th summer
Warnings: Abusive Dursleys, Physical Punishment Spanking, Neglect
Prompts: Neighbors, Grounded!
Challenges: Neighbors, Grounded!
Series: None
Chapters: 23 Completed: Yes Word count: 39258 Read: 274427 Published: 07 Aug 2015 Updated: 01 Sep 2015
Accidents Happen by Alexannah

“Wake up, boy! It’s eight o’clock!”

Harry groaned as he slowly came to. Petunia was shaking him.

“About time too! Come on, get your lazy arse out of bed, Snape’s going to be—”

The doorbell rang.

“Here any minute,” she finished pointedly. “Come on, get up and get some clothes on for goodness’ sake.”

Harry carefully sat up, wincing. His stomach hurt, and he felt like he was going to throw up. His bedroom span as he got slowly out of bed, and he had to seize the wall to stop himself falling.

“Potter?”

He made a noise in his throat, not daring open his mouth. Snape appeared in the doorway.

“What’s the matter with you?”

Harry tried taking a step towards him, and the world lurched again. Snape assessed the situation quickly and grabbed his arm.

“Careful, Potter. You’re sick.”

Harry wished he hadn’t said that word, because the urge to vomit was getting stronger. He clapped his hand over his mouth, and Snape got the message.

He grabbed Harry and lifted him in his arms before hurrying across the landing with him towards the bathroom. Harry reached the toilet just in time, and Snape cast a hurried silencing charm and closed the door.

Harry wanted to thank Snape—if he had thrown up over the carpet, Petunia would have made him clean it himself—but couldn’t speak. Cold sweat ran down his skin as he heaved. Snape kept one hand resting on his shoulder, keeping him from keeling over.

“Ugh.”

“Feel better?” Snape enquired.

“Not really,” Harry croaked.

“Feel able to get over the road?”

“Um ... give me a moment.” Harry stood up shakily, but didn’t like to move away from the toilet bowl just in case he set off another round. Snape waved his wand and the contents emptied, taking the smell with it.

“Thanks Professor.”

“Don’t mention it. Shall we?”

Harry made his way slowly downstairs, clinging to the bannisters as he went. Snape descended by his side, ready to grab him if he looked like he was going to keel over again.

Petunia glared at Harry as he finally reached the hall. “What took you so long, freak? I’m so sorry Mr Snape.”

“Well the joke’s on him,” Snape said. “I will be keeping him longer this time, overnight. Is that all right by you?”

“Oh, by all means, take him!”

“Thank you. It may be he has to stay more than one night, we’ll see how much work he gets done. Come on, Potter.” Snape took hold of his arm, which probably looked forceful, but it was acting as a support.

“Yes sir,” Harry said weakly, and stumbled out of the house.

He felt a little better for the fresh air, but still terrible. Snape walked him into the house, set him down on the sofa and started examining him with the same kind of rod Madam Pomfrey used.

“What exactly do you feel?”

“Um ... nauseous. Hot. Shivery. Weak. And my stomach hurts.”

“Hmm.” There was silence for a couple of minutes, before Snape finally announced, “Food poisoning.”

Harry’s mind went immediately to the funny-tasting prawns last night, and suddenly regretted being so polite. If they’d been off, then surely even Snape couldn’t have been offended if he had not eaten them. Well done, Potter, he thought.

“That’s bad?” he croaked.

“It’s unpleasant, but you’re not in any immediate danger. I’m afraid I can’t give you a potion for it.”

“Why not?”

“Wizards don’t have a cure for everything. With food poisoning, Healers have tried various magical methods over the years to remove the offending bacteria—or whatever—from the system, but so far nothing has been found to be more effective than letting nature take its course. As for treating the symptoms alone, well, I’m sure you’ve heard the expression ‘Better out than in’.”

“Yeah.”

“Anti-nausea potions or the like would cause more problems in the long run. So there’s no shortcut. Just rest, and make sure you drink plenty of water.”

Harry nodded. Snape fetched him a jug of water and a glass, the blanket, and an Everlastingly Hot Water Bottle for the pain.

“Get some rest, Potter,” Snape said gently, “and let me know when you feel like you could try eating something, all right?”

Harry nodded. “I will. Thank you.”

-

Potter dozed for a couple of hours, looking rather the worse for wear. Severus stayed in the room, quietly doing his crosswords, and keeping half an eye on him. Late morning, he decided it was probably time he woke Potter up and got him to at least drink some water, if not eat something.

“Potter?” Severus placed a hand on his shoulder and shook it gently. “Time to wake up.”

“Huh.”

“Potter. Come on, wake up.”

The boy stirred reluctantly and bleary eyes opened. “Pr’f’ss’r?”

Severus pressed the glass of water into his hands. “You can’t sleep all the time, Potter, you need to keep your fluids up.”

Potter struggled into a half-sitting position and sipped at the water.

“Do you think you could manage anything to eat yet?”

“I-I dunno … maybe …”

“I’ll get you something to try.” Severus left him still sipping and began searching his cupboards for something fairly bland. Remembering that Potter liked fruit, he cut up a banana and returned to the living-room with it.

Potter was sitting up properly now, and accepted his breakfast with a weak smile. “Thanks.” He picked at the banana slowly, and Severus picked up the Daily Prophet again.

After a while of silence, the bowl fell to the floor as Potter suddenly jumped off the sofa, swayed slightly, and sprinted towards the downstairs toilet. Severus hesitated, wondering whether to follow or wait and see if Potter called him. There was a cry and then silence.

“Potter?” he called. “Are you all right?”

“Um ... Professor ...” Potter sounded somewhere between tearful and mortified. “I—I’ve had a—an accident ...”

Severus put the newspaper aside and stood up. “Do you need help?”

“Yes, please,” Potter said in a small voice. “I-I’m sorry, sir.”

The apology threw Severus slightly, but he hurried to the door, which hadn’t been closed properly. Potter was on the toilet, white and trembling, and nervously pulling his oversized t-shirt over his knees for modesty.

Severus had been a Head of House for several years, and had dealt with all manner of sick students, so the mess didn’t bother him. He simply Vanished it all. “Would you like some clean clothes?”

“Yes please sir,” Potter whispered. His stomach audibly gurgled and he groaned, wrapping his arms around it.

-

When Harry finally emerged from the toilet some while later, he was presented with some fresh clothes—a shirt and trousers belonging to Snape that had been shrunk down to fit him—and he also discovered that the sofa and television had been moved into the middle of the room by the doorway, to be nearer the toilet.

“You need to keep your liquids up,” Snape said, re-entering the living room after having bundled Harry’s technically-clean-but-not-exactly-smelling-fresh clothes into the washing machine. “What were you apologising for earlier?”

Harry would have thought it was obvious. “I made a mess of your bathroom.”

“You had diarrhoea; it’s not your fault,” Snape said simply. “Do you need anything else?”

“Um …” Harry thought. His stomach felt a bit less dodgy now. “Some food, please. Just a little, though.”

“Certainly.”

Harry lay back down while Snape busied himself in the kitchen. A realisation had begun to dawn on him, and it rather alarmed him.

He struggled into an upright position as Snape came back in and handed him a plate of dry toast.

“How’s the pain?”

“No change,” Harry replied. “Thanks.” He nibbled cautiously at the crust. “I feel a bit less yucky though.”

“That’s good. Let me refill your water.” Snape took the jug back into the kitchen.

It had taken Harry a while to realise, but any doubt had been erased after the embarrassing incident in the downstairs toilet. Had the same thing happened before the holiday, Harry would have expected Snape to make scathing comments and force him to clean up the mess himself.

But he hadn’t. Snape had been so … matter of fact about it, as if this sort of thing happened to him every day. He’d helped him out, even so far as lending Harry his own clothes. Harry had still been utterly mortified of course, but Snape had definitely made it easier.

Harry’s conclusion? He liked Snape.

The man may not like him back, but he’d taken care of Harry nonetheless, way above and beyond want or duty. If anything the fact that he didn’t like Harry made his actions even more admirable. Harry couldn’t help it; he liked him for it. Snape was a much better person than Harry had ever realised, and it puzzled him why that fact was usually so well-hidden.

Snape brought the jug back, filled with iced water, and set it back down within easy reach. “Make sure you keep your liquids up.”

“I will. Thanks sir.”

Snape rescued the blanket, which Harry only then realised was starting to slip off the sofa, and tucked it around him properly. Neither spoke and Snape returned to the kitchen as if nothing had happened.

Harry couldn’t help but smile slightly. Being ill was horrible, but actually being looked after made it much more bearable.

His eyes were closing when the doorbell rang, making him start. His eyes flew open again and he watched Snape as he peered through the window. If Harry wasn’t mistaken, Snape went slightly pale.

 

“It’s your aunt.”

The End.


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