When they were finished with dinner, Severus tapped the table twice with his wand and the dishes vanished back to the kitchens. “When it is meal time, just tap the table once and the food will appear,” he explained. “From now on, no skimping on meals! Try to eat a little bit more each day until you can eat a full portion.” Harry nodded at the new rule. “Leave your potions bottle here and I will show you the rest of the rooms.” He led Harry on a short tour, showing where the door to his private potions lab was – which Harry was under strict orders to never enter unless specified by Snape, and led him down the hall where he pointed out his own room – again with the same restrictions - and the new room for Harry.

“This will be your room, Potter. That door, over there, leads to a bathroom and that one next to it is your clothes cupboard. If there is anything in here that does not please you, blame it on the headmaster – he decorated it.” He snorted, looking around at the decidedly Gryffindor furnishings and colour scheme.

Harry was beside himself in happiness – a whole room with an ensuite all to himself! “It’s brilliant, professor. I wouldn’t change anything!” He saw the owl perch standing next to his desk where his owl’s empty cage stood. He almost smacked himself for forgetting about Hedwig until now. “Professor, my owl…” he said, slightly panicked.

“Is upstairs in the Owlery, Mr Potter. You may go and see her when we return tomorrow afternoon, if we have time. Otherwise you may see her the next day.” Harry heaved a sigh of relief at this bit of information and walked over to his trunk; he really needed to write to Ron and Hermione and explain everything. Ron was going to blow when he found out Harry was staying with Snape. That brought up a question, though.

“Ah, sir? What can I tell my friends?”

Severus thought about this for a moment before answering. “You may tell them what happened as to why you never received their missives. You may also say that you have been removed from your aunt and uncle’s; but you may not tell them where you are now, nor with whom you are staying.” The boy actually looked satisfied at this answer as he nodded his understanding. He returned to his original task of actually opening his trunk.

He was a bit embarrassed at the state of everything; he had just thrown his stuff in at end of term. Snape watched him for a moment before deciding to lend a hand.

“Granted our leaving your relatives was a bit hurried, but after this I don’t ever want to see this trunk in this state again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said resignedly. Well, with a caring adult came the expectations, he supposed.

Severus actually began looking at the clothes that were being pulled out of the trunk. “Potter, what is this? Why are these in your trunk? They are at least six sizes too big for you!”

“Erm, these are my clothes, sir. They’re my cousin’s hand-me-downs; that’s all I was allowed to wear.” He coloured up as he looked down at his transfigured trainers. He really hadn’t wanted to reveal that – but he knew the professor wouldn’t tolerate a lie.

Snape pinched his nose in consternation. So, those Muggles had another thing to answer for: he knew Albus had been paying them a monthly stipend to cover such things as food, clothing and other items for the boy. Obviously they had been pocketing it all and denying everything decent and necessary for the child. He conjured another dicta-quill and parchment to start, what was sure to be, a lengthy shopping list.

“Potter…” he began, then thought better of it. “Never mind, just pile up your cousin’s rags over there… is that all of them? Fine. Incendio!” Harry jumped back as his cousin’s old clothes caught fire with a sudden whoosh, and turned to ash in a matter of seconds, which Snape vanished with a wave of his hand. Harry grinned – he had wanted to do that to those stinky old things of Dudley’s for years! Snape then turned to the pile of school clothes and underwear that was left; the boy’s first-year books being placed neatly on the desk with leftover parchment, some ragged quills, and quarter-full bottle of ink. Hagrid’s gift of the photo album held a place of honour on the nightstand and Harry’s wand was back in his rear pocket of his jeans. He felt more complete with it back where it belonged.

“Two robes – decent shape – they should last this year, but we’ll pick you up a couple more, just in case, as hopefully you will grow. Definitely need more jumpers, shirts and slacks as well as several more pairs of pants that actually fit.” The quill flashed along the parchment as he threw the greying pants on the floor and those followed the previous pile of clothes into ash. “Those transfigured trainers will last you, but will then revert back tomorrow evening, Madame Pomfrey always uses temporary spells for that sort of thing – so, a few pairs of shoes and socks.” He went on muttering to himself as he continued the list for the shopping trip. Harry, meanwhile, was counting up the galleons in his head. Why did he need a new grooming kit? So what if his comb was missing a few teeth and his toothbrush bristles were mushed; they did the job, didn’t they? Why so many clothes? Snape was even talking about casual clothes now, much less school supplies! Harry just shook his head to himself; he wasn’t worth all this fuss.

“Professor, you don’t have to do this. I’m really fine with what I have,” he attempted to interject pleadingly.

“Potter, trust me when I tell you, that what you possess is not even the bare minimum required!” the professor sneered.

“But I bought what was on the list…” he tried to point out.

“You bought?” Snape twirled around to face Harry, eyebrow raised to the highest mast, as the quill screeched to a stop, nearly ripping a hole in the parchment, and hovered in midair, fletchings quivering as it eagerly awaited more instructions.

“Yes, sir. Last August, when Hagrid took me to Diagon Alley to get my school supplies, I got money from my trust account and bought everything that was on the list…”

“Potter, that list is a guideline. Most parents would know to get more of each item for their children.” He pinched his nose and tried another tact to make the boy understand, as Harry was giving him a totally bewildered look. “How many sets of clothes did your cousin go off to school with?” He let a partial upturn of the mouth proceed when he saw Harry begin to realise. “But you didn’t have a parent with you, so you wouldn’t have known that,” Severus dismissed with a wave of his hand. He liked Hagrid, the man was absolutely brilliant, if a bit barmy, with magical creatures – but he was not a fit person to be taking a young boy shopping for his first school supplies, he was so childlike himself in many ways.

“Oh,” Harry looked taken aback. “Still, sir, I have money to pay for all this…”

“I’m sure you do, your father being quite wealthy when he was alive. However, I am perfectly able to provide these for you. Remember: it is part of my responsibility to you as your guardian. Something your relatives never bothered with, despite being given money to do exactly that. Yes,” he clarified, drawing the word out, as the boy’s eyes got wide in surprise at that revelation. “Let’s leave your trust fund where it is for now – perhaps taking out a little bit for pocket money for the school year. But, I will monitor what you spend, understood?”

Harry bristled at the comment for a moment, but then, after a moment of thinking on it, realised his professor was right. He decided to give in gracefully for the moment, nodding his understanding, and listened as the professor went over his books, writing supplies, and potions kit with a practiced eye. The quill began happily writing again, almost purring with satisfaction as it busily made the notes Snape would need. He caught Snape giving him a calculating look after he looked at the latter item of Harry’s supplies.

“I think, Mr Potter, that we will spend some of our time this summer practicing potions. Your performance this year was barely adequate.” Harry sighed at the criticism – just par for the course from the potions Master; but his eyebrows nearly hit his hairline at the next sentence. “I know you know what the potions should do – your written work exemplified that, sparse in content though it was, and the handwriting was simply atrocious. But, I got the gist of what you were saying. However, your practical applications were woeful. So, we will definitely work on potions and penmanship for the next month; hopefully bringing your understanding of both subjects up to acceptable standards before the start of term.” Harry sighed again; he should have expected this bit of news as he was staying with the Potions King for the rest of the summer.

Then Harry grew pale as Snape reached the bottom of the trunk and pulled out his dad’s old cloak that Professor Dumbledore had given him at Christmas.

“Ah, yes…” the man purred, “…the infamous Potter invisibility cloak. What to do with this?” He looked over at his charge, noting the sheer fear in the boy’s eyes. He thought a moment before handing down his decision. “I am going to go ahead and leave this with you for now – however,” he held up his hand to forestall any backtalk, “if I discover you have been using it, it will be confiscated until further notice. Am I understood, Mr Potter?”

“Yes, sir.” Severus nodded at the answer and, after carefully folding the cloak, placed it back in the bottom of the trunk.

“All right, I believe I know what you need now.” He pocketed the list and vanished the dicta-quill as he gazed at the clock on the nightstand. “Eight-thirty; I believe that will be all for tonight, Potter. You may stay up reading if you wish, but I expect lights out at ten o’clock.” Snape Accio-ed a pair of pyjamas from his room and handed them to the boy. “Go change into these and brush your teeth, you will find a new toothbrush on the sink. When you come back out, I will shrink them to fit.”

Harry nodded and headed for his loo. When he came back out, he placed his jeans and t-shirt on his desk and walked to where his guardian was standing. A quick flick of the wand had the nightclothes shrinking to fit and Harry was in possession of a well fitting set of blue cotton pinstriped pyjamas.

Snape handed him a small bottle of potion. “This is Dreamless Sleep, Potter. I daresay you will need this for the next few nights. One swallow only, though. Understand?” The young boy nodded. “Now, if you wish to read before sleeping, there are novels on the shelves next to the Floo, otherwise, good night.”

“Thank you, sir. I think I will just go to bed now. I’m still feeling a bit tired.”

“Very well. Breakfast at seven-thirty.” Snape turned and left the room, leaving the door cracked open a bit. Harry headed to his bed and burrowed under the wonderful thick and warm covers. Setting his glasses on the table, he picked up the potion and took one swallow before succumbing to sleep.

****

The next morning after breakfast, Severus led Harry through the thick oak door into the dungeon hallways beyond, and then up to the doors of the castle and down the crunchy pea gravel of the carriageway to the main gates. There, Snape grabbed hold of Harry’s forearm and Apparated them to Diagon Alley. Harry staggered at the suddenness of the transportation and nearly lost his breakfast on Snape’s shoes, but managed to swallow it back before he disgraced himself.

“What was that?” he asked breathlessly, when he felt he could speak without sicking up.

“Apparition; the quickest way a wizard can travel,” Severus replied.

“I think I’ll stick to a broom,” he coughed as his stomach attempted to reassert itself.

Snape peered keenly at his ward’s face and had to admit it had a slight greenish tint to it. “You’ll get used to it,” he commiserated as he placed a hand on Harry’s back and steered him over to Madam Malkin’s shop.

Harry’s face slowly returned to the correct shade, and possibly over-corrected a bit too much, as the shop’s proprietress worked quickly to fill Snape’s order for Harry’s new clothes. The man had told her that his ward needed a ‘complete kit’, and this seemed to be some sort of code that she understood, for she brightened up with glee. Harry found himself following her around the shop letting her fill up his arms with piles of trousers, jeans, shirts, robes, underclothes, pyjamas, casual shirts, cloaks, coats and jackets with Hogwarts insignias, and so on. Everything – and more, as far as he was concerned – that a young wizard would need for a year of school at the United Kingdom’s finest wizarding academy.

Severus sat back on one of the little armless chairs scattered around the shop and watched stony-faced. Although if anyone had taken the time to actually look in his eyes, they would have seen bemusement.

Snape paid for the clothing after adjustments and growth charms were placed on them. He then shrunk the packages and placed them in his pocket and led Harry out to continue their shopping trip.

Harry found himself suddenly wary of all the people in the streets, and found himself gravitating toward his professor as, ironically, someone safe and protective. He tried to shake himself out of these paranoid feelings, he certainly hadn’t been this agoraphobic last summer, but now he was looking at everyone as if they were a potential threat. As a result, he caught the looks that people were giving him, and the professor, as they proceeded down the Alley in search of various items.

It seemed that some people went out of their way to avoid his teacher – even to the extent of crossing to the other side of the street as they approached. Some raked Snape with their accusatory eyes, murmuring under their breath or avoiding his gaze altogether; and some even spat on the ground before moving out of the way. Others, which included some students or former students, nodded politely to Snape and just gave Harry a cursory appraisal, raising eyebrows at the oddity of the Boy-Who-Lived out and about with the strict instructor.

The third bunch, realising who Harry was, fawned all over the boy. Snape ended up having to extract the trembling boy from numerous well-meaning clutches of maternal witches attempting to bury his face in their bosoms as they crooned over the ‘poor bairn’. Thus, Harry was ecstatic to run into Hermione in front of Flourish and Blotts a little while later - someone who would treat Harry as a normal person.

“Harry! I’m so glad to see you!” She grabbed him to give him a huge hug. He did his absolute best not to flinch from the contact, but it was hard. He just did not feel comfortable being touched that closely by anyone, right now. “Why didn’t you answer any of my owls?” She looked up at Snape as he came up to the two young lions. “Oh, hullo, Professor Snape.”

Severus had seen the way Potter’s shoulders had tensed when the girl had grabbed him and felt he should intervene on his ward’s behalf. “Miss Granger,” he acknowledged, giving a mere hint of a head nod in her direction. “Mr Potter never received your missives this summer; his relatives… I’m sure you understand.” He saw the boy give him a grateful look over his friend’s shoulder.

Hermione’s eyes opened wide at this revelation. “Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry. I should have realised… Ron has been trying to get you to come over all summer!”

“I’ll write to him tonight, Hermione, I promise. I can’t leave where I’m at right now. The professor is taking me out just today to get my school stuff. But I’ll see you both when term starts, all right?”

“Of course, Harry. Are you staying someplace better now? You’re all right?” she asked with concern in her voice as she glanced quickly at their Potions professor who stood glowering over her friend.

Harry glanced up at his guardian, then looked back at his friend and nodded. “I am, Hermione. I’ll tell you everything on September first, all right? Your owls should get to me now.”

“I’m glad for you, Harry.” A voice could be heard calling Hermione’s name from a shop down the street. “That’s my mum, I’ve got to go. Will I see you on the train?” she asked hurriedly.

He looked up at Snape who gave a small shake of his head. Harry quietly sighed. “I don’t think so, I’ll see you at the feast though,” he reassured her as she jogged away to join her parents. She gave him a little wave of acknowledgement and he smiled as he watched her go.

Severus led Harry into the bookstore to purchase his second year texts, where they ran into a long line leading to the back of the store. A placard placed just inside the door announced that an author was to be signing books today. Snape sneered at the picture of the wizard who appeared to be all teeth, and wavy blond hair, grinning from the poster, and steered his ward away from the ravening hordes of housewives clamouring for a look at the infamous Gilderoy Lockhart.

“The man is a fraud, Potter. Unfortunately, Albus has gone ahead and hired him for the Defense position – half the books on your list this year are his volumes of drivel.”

“I’ve always said, Severus, that you should be teaching the Defense course,” a voice drawled in perfect patrician tones next to them. “But the rest of the school governors agree with Dumbledore, and you stay in your dank dungeon. And who do we have here? A poor little orphan being escorted?” the voice continued on in mock-concerned tones.

“It’s Potter, father,” came a sneering, younger version of the voice. Harry narrowed his eyes as he peered around the back of Snape, staring at his nemesis, who glared right back at Harry from behind his father.

“I know who it is, Draco!” Lucius Malfoy quickly snapped at his son. He turned his attention back to Snape and moderated his voice again. “I was just curious as to why you are escorting him, Severus; this seems a bit out of your purview?”

“Dumbledore’s wishes, Lucius. I had no say in the matter.” Knowing this was a patent lie; Harry watched the interplay between the two adults. He knew Malfoy’s reputation as an evil git who had supposedly supported Voldemort in the past, and was highly influential at the Ministry and on the School Board of Governors.

The younger Weasley boys had given him chapter and verse, according to their father, last term. He wondered at Snape’s manipulation of the truth around this man. He decided to keep quiet for the time being and let the situation unfold.

He spared another glance for Draco who also seemed to be watching the sparring match with a jaundiced eye. Now that was interesting, Draco almost looked like a normal boy. If Harry had met this version last summer, things might have been different. He decided at that moment to keep an eye on Draco during the rest of the year.

Lucius turned to look at Harry, raking him up and down with his gaze and then dismissed him with a turn back to Snape.

“Not much to look at is he, this boy-wonder. I feel even more certain than ever that his survival was a fluke. I don’t feel any special power in him. Just another dirty, little half-blood orphan.” Draco sniggered sycophantically at his father’s cutting remark, causing Harry’s anger to stir up dangerously near the surface. He clenched one hand into a fist but quickly released it when he felt his teacher’s hand squeeze his shoulder in warning. Draco was definitely worth keeping an eye on, good or bad.

“Lucius, I would love to stay and chat, but I want to get back to the castle sometime before the millennium. I will bid you good day?” Snape said smoothly as he deftly guided Harry in front of him.

Malfoy senior sighed in resignation that no one was going to play his verbal games today. “Fine, I’ll see you later this week. We’ll talk then.”

“As you wish.” The two groups parted company and Severus led Harry over to the section of Hogwarts texts and loaded up Harry’s arms with all of his second year required texts as well as supplemental readings. Harry groaned at the sight of all these books. It was going to be a long four weeks. Four weeks? Was that correct?

“Sir?”

“What, Potter?” Severus replied a bit distractedly as he perused more books trying to decide which would help his ward.

“What day is it?”

“What day? Monday,” he answered, placing some basic, but well written, defense volumes on the stack.

Harry was surprised, then disappointed. If it was Monday, then his birthday had passed without him even knowing it. He must have been out longer than he thought. “Happy Birthday to me,” he muttered, not realising his professor had heard him.