Broke! by Alexannah
Past Featured StorySummary: Harry's Gringotts account is empty, with two years left at Hogwarts. What is he going to do? Get a job working for his Potions Master, that's what.
Categories: Healer Snape, Master Snape > Apprentice Harry, Fic Fests > #22 Spring fest 2017, Teacher Snape > Professor Snape, Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Dumbledore, Molly
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Angst, Drama
Media Type: None
Tags: Alternate Universe, Injured!Harry, Physical Impairment
Takes Place: 6th summer
Warnings: Neglect
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 13 Completed: No Word count: 26279 Read: 76144 Published: 03 Aug 2017 Updated: 11 Oct 2017
Story Notes:
My entry for the Spring 2017 Fic Fest! Rating may go up as the plot develops.
Chapter 1: Overdrawn! by Alexannah

Aunt Petunia’s shriek when the owl flew in through the kitchen window was almost enough to shatter glass.

Harry jumped up to catch the envelope it dropped, wondering who could be so desperate to talk to him. It was only the second morning of the summer holiday, and he didn’t recognise the owl.

The envelope bore a Gringotts stamp. He frowned.

“Shoo!” Aunt Petunia brandished a spatula at the owl, and it flew hastily back out of the window. Not keen on sticking around to hear her ranting about freakiness and filthy animals, Harry quickly took off upstairs.

Now he knew about the prophecy, Harry had decided to get hold of some more advanced Defence books and really knuckle down on preparing himself for whatever came next. He’d only ordered one so far. Maybe this was the confirmation of his transaction? Though those usually came with the actual owl-ordered product, and the catalogue had said to allow three days for delivery.

Harry sat down on his bed and opened the letter. His mouth fell open.

Dear Mr Potter,

Your account is OVERDRAWN. As such we have been unable to process your transaction to Flourish and Blotts.

You have a week in which to pay in the required sum of 14 Sickles 3 Knuts or you will be charged 5 Sickles. If you have not paid in the required amount in two weeks your transaction will be cancelled.

Thank you for banking with Gringotts.

Harry didn’t know how many times he re-read the letter, trying to take it in. By the time he stopped, he could have recited it word for word, but he still couldn’t believe it.

His account was overdrawn? He had no money left at all?

How was that possible? He’d still had piles of money the last time he’d withdrawn! … Mind you, that had been before third year. The last couple of summers, the Weasleys had withdrawn for him. And he had never bothered to find out how much the Hogwarts school fees were; they probably made a sizeable dent. He’d never bothered to keep track of his money full stop—it wasn’t as if he was in the habit of splurging on big things, so he’d thought of himself as careful enough to not need to count the Knuts.

“This can’t be happening,” he moaned, trying to think straight.

He was such an idiot. He had spent all his money, and he still had two years at Hogwarts left.

“Mrs Weasley would have mentioned last year if I was running low,” Harry said to himself, “so the fees for this coming year must have been what emptied it. If I hadn’t had enough for that, the Gringotts letter would have said so, so at least I’m okay for this year …”

He trailed off, realising he wasn’t. He still needed money for his set textbooks, plus he was running low on stationary and potions ingredients, and his robes were a couple of inches too short for him now. He also needed to buy some new toothpaste, and most of his hand-me-downs were so close to falling apart he couldn’t justify not replacing them anymore. That was a small fortune before he even added the extra textbooks he wanted to get.

“What on earth am I going to do?” Harry said desperately to Hedwig. She only ruffled her feathers and put her head under her wing, having been out hunting all night.

It was at that point, as if to answer his question, yet another owl arrived, and dropped the Daily Prophet on his desk. Harry paid the owl out of his last few coins, and sent it away with a note cancelling his subscription. He was going to have to rely on his friends to keep him updated on what was going on now.

“I’ve only got one choice,” Harry said as the thought hit him, grabbing the newspaper and turning to the classifieds. “I’m going to have to get a job.”

He knew from all the careers-related chatter in the last few months that the wizarding world had summer job opportunities for underage wizards. Ron had been talking about getting one this summer, but most students who took one put in their applications months before the holiday.

Harry scanned the jobs section, looking for something suitable. There was only one available.

House-cleaning/errand runner/gardening assistant wanted, 2 S/hr, 4 days/week
SO NMR
Apply Floo 7383787-76273

The SO, Harry knew, stood for Summer Only, and NMR for No Magic Required. He had plenty of experience cleaning and gardening for the Dursleys, too, so it was perfect—except he didn’t know what the Floo number meant.

He left the house and headed for Mrs Figg’s.

“Hello, dear,” she said warmly when she opened the door and saw him there. “Is everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine—I just wanted to ask you something. Are you connected to the Floo Network?”

“Yes, I am. Come in, come in. Was there someone you needed to talk to?”

“Er, well, sort of. What’s it mean if someone says Floo followed by a long number?”

“Oh, that—every fireplace is numbered, and some people might give out their number if they don’t wish to give out their address. If you only have the number, you can make Firecalls, but you can’t travel to that address.”

“Oh, okay. Um, in that case, could I make a call?”

“Of course. Would you like a cup of tea or piece of cake or anything?”

“No thanks, Mrs Figg.”

She left him alone, and Harry threw a handful of Floo powder into the flames.

“Seven three eight three seven eight seven dash seven six two seven three,” he reeled off the advert, then hoping he’d said it right, thrust his head into the flames.

It emerged in the fireplace of a dark living-room. He couldn’t make out much, but it smelled quite dusty. No wonder the owner wanted a cleaner. He opened his mouth to call for someone, then promptly sneezed.

A figure appeared in the doorway. “Potter? What are you doing in my fire?”

Harry blinked ash out of his eyes, and his stomach dropped. “P-Professor Snape? This is your house?”

“Yes it is, and you didn’t answer the question,” Snape growled, striding towards the fireplace with a scowl. “What do you want, you little brat?”

“Um … I was looking for a summer job.”

Snape stilled. “You what?”

“A job. It was you who advertised, right? I didn’t get the number wrong?”

“Yes, it was me,” Snape said, still scowling. “What could you possibly want a job for? I thought you were rolling in it. Or did your twit of a father exaggerate the extent of his family fortune that much?”

Feeling a blush creep up his cheeks, Harry knew he would rather eat a live scorpion than admit to Snape he had spent all his family’s money. “No—I just wanted to get some experience working. Hermione keeps telling me it would look better to future employers.”

“And of course you left it to the last minute,” Snape scoffed. “Typical Potter. However, you’re the only applicant I’ve had in four months, so I suppose I can give you a trial run.”

“Great,” Harry said. He wasn’t exactly thrilled to be working for Snape, but he knew he didn’t have much of a choice. “How soon can I start?”

Snape sighed. “You might as well come over now. Make sure you tell whoever’s watching you where you’ve gone. The address is Ty Clogwyn, and you’ll need to say my password afterwards; it’s llafn y.”

“Er, okay. Back in a minute.”

Once Harry had delivered his message, tried to flatten his hair and refused tea and cake from Mrs Figg again, he stepped into the Floo fully. “Ty Clogwyn, llafn y.”

He hoped he’d remembered and pronounced it right as he tumbled through the fireplaces, wondering idly why Snape had a Welsh-sounding house address and password when his accent was unmistakably English.

As always, he stumbled from the fireplace the other end. He brushed off the soot, noting with relief that it was the same living-room from before.

Now he had a better view, Harry saw it wasn’t as dark as it had looked. There was a large window, but the thin grey curtains were drawn across it, a sliver of light coming in from between them. The walls were panelled in dark brown wood, the floor grey stone, and the furniture was a reddish-brown and sagging.

Snape reappeared in the doorway. “You’re here.” Unsurprisingly, he didn’t sound enthusiastic. He gave Harry a critical look. “Get the rest of that soot off you, and then follow me.”

“Why are the curtains closed?” Harry asked as he brushed himself down vigorously.

“They don’t open,” Snape said. “Fixing it will be one of your tasks, if you are up to the job.”

Harry had no idea how to fix a dodgy curtain rail, but decided he’d better not say this.

Once Snape was satisfied Harry wasn’t going to trail soot all over the dusty floor, he showed Harry around the ground floor. The hallway, library/study and back room were all furnished similarly, though the curtains in them were actually open, letting in plenty of sunlight, so it didn’t seem so dismal. The kitchen and laundry room were very old-fashioned, and the windows of the small conservatory were almost impossible to see out of because the greenery around it had almost covered it. Snape led him into the garden, which was so overgrown it would have put the Forbidden Forest to shame.

“I do not expect you to clear this all up yourself,” Snape said, to Harry’s utter relief. “I will be doing the tasks which require magic, but there are plenty of others that simply require manual labour and elbow grease. Assuming you still want the job, I wish to start with the garden.”

“Yes, sir. I can do it.”

Snape gave Harry a funny look, clearly having expected him to change his mind when he saw how much was needed to do. “All right, then.”

-

For three solid hours Harry worked under the streaming hot sun. The garden was filled with all sorts of both magical and non-magical plants, some of them dangerous. Snape had given him very specific instructions.

“The blue ones have to be dug up completely, not a single root left in the ground. Be careful around the red ones; watch your fingers and don’t smell the flowers, they have very poisonous fangs. I have antidotes to hand but all the same I would rather not have to use them on you.”

Trekking through the garden, which Harry couldn’t even make out the size of, was like fighting his way through a jungle. At one point Harry slipped and plunged headfirst into a pond he hadn’t even realised was there. When he staggered over to Snape covered in painful stings, bites and rashes from whatever creatures were lurking inside, he received an apology from the man, for the first time in his life.

“I’m sorry, Potter; I had no idea there was a pond there.”

“This is your house, isn’t it?” Harry said shortly, realising even as he said it that surely no-one could have lived in it for years—it was in an even worse state than Grimmauld Place had been.

“Technically, yes. I inherited it last summer, but I haven’t had a chance to explore every inch yet.” Snape grabbed Harry’s wrist to stop him scratching his red throbbing skin. “I’ll get you some cream for those.”

“Thanks, Professor.”

Harry followed Snape into the house, swaying a little upon entering, and Snape grabbed his arm to steady him. He led him into the kitchen, where he rifled through one of the cupboards and pulled out a selection of healing salves.

“Um … I’m not fired, am I?” Harry asked as Snape, surprisingly gently, rubbed the paste into his itching skin.

“Believe it or not Potter, I am not going to fire you for falling into a pond.”

“Oh. Good. Thanks.”

“Though in future you should be more careful where you put your feet.”

To be continued...
End Notes:
The next chapter will be posted when I've written it--I'm hoping to at least get another couple of chapters up by the end of the week, but can't promise anything.


This story archived at http://www.potionsandsnitches.org/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=3421