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: 274433 Published: 07 Aug 2015 Updated: 01 Sep 2015
Behaviour Patterns by Alexannah

It had to have been a dream.

 

When Harry woke up the next morning, he remembered feeling someone kiss him the night before. Well obviously it had been a dream. Why would Snape kiss him? Especially since he had been half asleep at the time.

All the same, Harry wished it had been real, though he felt guilty for wishing it.

Waking up alone, though nothing unusual, felt lonely after being held for a whole night. Harry told himself sternly to get a grip, and then promptly had to run to the bathroom.

“Are you all right in there, Potter?”

“Fine,” he called back.

“Yell if you need anything.”

Harry ventured downstairs shortly afterwards, feeling a lot better than he had even the day before. Still by no means one hundred percent, but a great improvement.

The day passed much as the previous one had, only with less time spent sleeping and less runs to the downstairs toilet. Harry was also eating more, something Snape seemed very pleased about. After Harry’s post-lunch nap, he got bored with the television and tentatively asked Snape if he would play chess with him.

When they had played before, after Harry’s first morning on the beach, Snape had completely thrashed him. This time, Snape still won, but it was much narrower a victory. He was obviously still distracted by something.

“Checkmate,” he said with a smile. “I win again.”

“Only just.”

“Only just still counts.” Snape collected up the pieces. “Who do you normally play with?”

“Ron. He always beats me. Actually everyone does, except Hermione, and she doesn’t play very much.”

“Hmm. Perhaps you should try playing your Head of House once in a while.”

“She’s not bad, is she? I thought—”

“On the contrary. Haven’t you ever looked at the wizard’s chess trophy cabinet at Hogwarts? Her name’s all over it. She could teach you a thing or two. How do you think I learned?”

“McGonagall taught you chess?”

“That’s Professor McGonagall, Potter; and she helped me improve, certainly. It’s a very worthwhile thing to try, since learning to strategise is beneficial applied to all sorts of things in life. You could certainly do with some improvement in that area if you don’t mind my saying. Another game?”

“Um, yeah,” Harry said, still slightly in a mental tangle over the words if you don’t mind my saying. When had Snape started to criticise like that?

-

By the following day, Harry felt more or less normal. Perhaps with slightly less energy than he had had before he was ill, which Snape reckoned was because of his lack of nutritional uptake in the last few days.

Although a relief, part of him was disappointed, knowing that now he was no longer ill, he no longer had a reason to be staying overnight anymore. Of course he would still be at Snape’s all day, so it wasn’t as if he had to go back to being with the Dursleys full time, but knowing Snape was only a few feet away from him (or less) throughout the night had been comforting in ways he didn’t see himself experiencing again.

He wished he could hang onto that feeling, but chided himself. When had he got so dependent? Snape was already doing far too much for him. The man deserved some Harry-free hours in his day. Harry told himself sternly to appreciate what he had and stop longing for more.

“How would you feel,” Snape said while making them both lunch, “about going back to the beach tomorrow morning?”

Harry’s heart sank. “Highly uncomfortable.”

“I meant do you think you’re up for—”

“I know. And you don’t need to try any psychological tricks this time. I’ll do it.”

Snape smiled. “Good.”

Silence fell again. Harry watched Snape preparing the sandwiches, now puzzling over Snape’s smile. Was it Harry’s imagination or had it been a more frequent occurrence recently?

-

Harry went back over to Number Nine that night, for the first time in days.

Snape had washed and put away the original set of pyjamas in the spare room. Harry hadn’t been able to contain his curiosity anymore, and asked where they had come from—and the toothbrush he had been using.

“I bought them when you first started coming over, in case such a situation arose,” Snape had said simply. “Come on, you don’t want to be late back.”

Snape marched him across the road as usual. Vernon and Dudley barely acknowledged them, but Harry felt Petunia’s eyes on him as he made his way back upstairs. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she suspected something.

-

For the next few mornings, Severus took Harry to the beach as he had done before the sickness had occurred.

Harry could wade in almost up to his knees now (with support of course), something Severus was quick to praise. He could feel the boy shaking as he did so and knew how difficult it was for him, yet without fail every morning Harry was trying. Severus could never have believed he could be so proud of someone. It seemed there was something to be said for Gryffindor courage and stubbornness after all.

With rest and proper meals, the colour came back into Harry’s cheeks, and he lost the wasted look he had got during his sickness, for which Severus was thankful. The boy just didn’t have much weight to lose. Of course the food poising hadn’t helped, but even after weeks of being looked after properly, the boy still looked far too small and fragile. Severus was going to kill those Dursleys when the time came.

That time seemed to be getting closer. Harry’s birthday was almost upon them, and Albus had said that the wards at the Burrow were almost ready. Harry’s time with him was running out, as was Severus’ time for deciding what he was going to do. Term was still a way off, but it would only be fair to explain things to Harry before he left.

Of course, once Harry discovered he had once served the megalomaniac who had killed his parents, he would probably just go back to hating him anyway, so that would be the decision made. Severus couldn’t deny that the prospect stung. He had more than got used to Harry; he had grown fond of him, and could hardly bear to imagine returning to their previous, mutual-loathing relationship.

-

There was nothing in the way Petunia shouted Harry awake, at ten to eight as usual, to suggest that the day was any different to any other.

Harry scrambled out of bed, washed speedily and had just pulled his t-shirt on when Snape turned up. He bid Petunia good day, and left Number Nine with Harry as usual.

“I think she still suspects something,” Harry told him once the front door had closed behind them.

“Hmm,” was Snape’s only comment. Harry was taken by surprise when, instead of walking up the garden path, Snape turned and began leading him out of the close. “I have some business in town today, Potter. If you would assist me.”

“Oh—okay.”

Harry wondered what had happened to giving him breakfast and then taking him to the beach, but he didn’t ask. Maybe Snape was beginning to get tired of doing things for him all the time. He could understand that. With a sinking heart, he followed.

He hadn’t actually been in the town centre before, and looked around in curiosity when they reached the high street. Before he could take in much, Snape stopped them at an open café.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about breakfast.”

Hope rekindled in Harry as Snape ushered them both inside, sat them both down at a table and picked up a menu.

They ordered in the café; Snape with his usual coffee and porridge, and Harry with scrambled eggs on toast.

“So what do you need my help with?” Harry asked.

“Not much,” Snape admitted. “I didn’t want to say so just in case one of your relatives overheard, but I thought you just might appreciate some time out of the house. I do have some things to do, but you’re free to do what you like, and we can meet up in a few hours. I brought your wages out for you.”

Harry’s eyes widened as Snape pulled a money bag from his pocket and handed it over. It was stuffed full of notes. “Don’t spend it all on sweets.”

Considering Harry had long lost track of how many hundreds of pounds he had ‘earned’, he thought this unlikely. He had planned to save most of it, keeping it in case he ever needed Muggle cash. If this summer had taught him anything, it was to expect the unexpected.

“Oh, and Potter,” Snape said before Harry could thank him. “Don’t exhaust yourself. I will need your assistance this afternoon with some things.”

“Okay,” Harry said, wondering when Snape had started working him again. Maybe Snape just had a lot of work to do that day. It wasn’t as if he minded; he was just curious.

They made plans to meet back at the café, and separated. Harry wandered freely for a while. He did stop in the sweet shop, but limited his purchases to a stick of Hastings rock, a bag of liquorice allsorts, another of rhubarb and custards, and a sherbet fountain. He knew he’d be dead if one of the Dursleys caught him with any of it, but figured if Snape was happy to keep his money for him, he would be happy to keep sweets for him as well.

Harry watched the kids’ carousel, a juggler and a couple of musicians, dropping a fiver into each instrument case and the juggler’s cap. He admired the mosaics on the walkway. He explored a couple of twittens leading to smaller shops. He breathed in the fantastic smell from the bakery.

After a while he stopped for a cup of tea, and drank it leisurely, sitting in the teashop window and watching the world go by, feeling pretty relaxed.

He appreciated the trip out. He would have to thank Snape profusely later.

At noon, Harry returned to the café. Snape was waiting for him inside, at the same table.

“Did you have a good time?” he asked as Harry sat down.

“Yes, thanks, Professor.”

“Good.” Snape handed him the menu. “Choose a sandwich.”

Harry ordered a BLT, and sucked on a rhubarb and custard while he was waiting. Snape had a shopping bag sitting on the floor by his legs, but he didn’t seem in a hurry to tell Harry what was inside.

“So what did you buy?” Snape asked.

Harry showed him the sweets. “Do you think I could keep them at your place so my relatives don’t find out?”

“Of course.” It was settled. Silence fell, and the sandwiches arrived.

Snape checked his watch several times while they ate. Harry got the impression he didn’t want to be late for something. He ate his sandwich very quickly, and stood up when Harry was still eating, counting out some money.

“I have to make a quick call.” He put the money on the table. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay.”

Harry watched Snape in curiosity out of the window as he finished his sandwich. Snape headed towards a phone box and went inside. After a call that couldn’t have lasted more than a minute, Snape withdrew and approached the café again. Harry quickly finished his food.

“Ready to go, Potter?”

Harry nodded and stood up, wondering vaguely who Snape had been calling, and why bother using a public phone when he had one at home, but Snape didn’t offer any sort of information.

“Come on then.”

They returned back to Snape’s house. Harry thought for a moment, as they were walking up the garden path, that he detected movement behind a curtain. Maybe it was his imagination. Or maybe Dumbledore had let himself in again.

For some reason, the house felt too silent as Snape let them in. Harry couldn’t explain it.

“Living room,” Snape said to him.

Slightly puzzled, Harry entered the living room, and his mouth dropped onto the floor.

“SURPRISE!”

The End.


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