Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Author's Chapter Notes:
I have been having a computer drama the last few weeks, and finally have my proper laptop back and fixed (mostly) but have to deal with OpenOffice, which I have never used before, until my dad gets around to reinstalling MS Word. It shouldn't affect the fic posting but to be on the safe side I apologise in advance for any formatting issues or update gaps that may occur because of this.
Beginning Repairs

Snape handed him a bottle of ketchup from his cupboard, then sat down opposite him and began sipping at his coffee. Harry ketchupped his bacon fast, smashed the bread together and took a huge bite.

Merlin, it was heaven. This was real food. Harry was too busy wolfing down his sandwich, interrupted every now and then by a reminder from Snape not to choke himself, to think about how bizarre this was—having breakfast cooked by Snape in Snape’s kitchen.

He finished his food about the same time Snape finished his coffee. “Thank you, sir,” he said. He believed that Snape had only fed him because it would be inconvenient if Harry passed out from hunger, but he was grateful all the same.

“No need for that.” Snape’s tone because more business-like. “I have some potions that need brewing today. You will be assisting me.”

“Um … Professor …”

“Yes, Potter?”

“Why exactly do you want my help with potions? Considering how appalling you’ve always said I am at it …”

“I will be doing most of the work, I just need an assistant to prepare some ingredients, no touching the actual potions required. It’s simple but time-consuming. I’m fairly confident that even you cannot mess that task up.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, if you’re ready?”

Harry nodded, and Snape led him to his potions lab. Harry sat on a chair at a table with the ingredients in front of him while Snape worked the other side of the table. The ingredients really were pretty simple to prepare, nothing complicated or difficult. Harry chopped and occasionally crushed or split.

No words were spoken between them apart from occasional instructions from Snape. It was actually quite companionable in a way, though Harry would never have admitted that. He didn’t mind work much when he could do it without much of a struggle, in fact he liked feeling useful. He supposed maybe that was what house-elves liked about work … he had never really considered that before. Hmm.

After a few hours, Snape checked his watch and put a stasis spell over the potion he was currently working on. “Lunchtime.”

Harry carried on chopping daisy roots, and jumped a mile, nearly chopping off his index finger, as Snape put a hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t exactly gentle, but not rough either. “Potter, did you hear me?”

“What?” Harry looked around, for a moment bewildered, before realising that Snape probably wanted him to make lunch for him. “Oh—right, sorry, coming.”

They returned to the kitchen and Snape filled another jug of water. Harry hovered, waiting for Snape to tell him what to do.

“Take this into the living room,” Snape said, handing it and the glass to him. “Is that too heavy?”

“No, that’s fine.”

“Good.”

Harry followed Snape’s instructions, putting them down on the coffee table, and returned to find Snape stabbing two potatoes with a sharp knife.

“Do you prefer cheese or tuna?”

“What?”

“With baked potatoes. I have both.”

Harry wasn’t used to being asked what he preferred, and it took him a few moments to think about it. “Tuna, please.”

Snape reached for a cupboard and pulled out a tin. Harry was still hovering, uncertain what he was supposed to do.

“Go and watch the television.”

“Sorry?”

“In the living room. It’s the big black box with a screen facing the sofa.”

“I know what a television is! Why are you telling me to watch it? I thought I was here to work for you?”

Snape sighed. “Potter, do you really think you can work for twelve hours straight with no rest and no food?”

“Um …”

“I thought not. Go and watch the television, or read a book or something.”

“Okay.”

Harry returned to the living room, curled up on the sofa and began flicking through channels as he drank another glass of water.

-

Once Severus had put the potatoes in the oven, he peered out of the kitchen doorway at Potter. The boy was hunched in a ball, staring at the screen, leaning heavily on a cushion. His eyes were closing.

So, let him take a nap. The potatoes would take a while.

Potter didn’t notice Severus watching him, and gradually dropped off. Once Severus was sure he was asleep, he turned off the television and tucked a blanket around the boy’s frail form.

Even now, with Potter’s emaciated body up close and personal, Severus could barely believe what his eyes told him. One day he would have to say some very choice words to Petunia Dursley, but until other arrangements had been sorted out for Potter, he was going to have to continue playing his part.

He had yet to report his deductions to Albus. That was a task he had reserved for tonight, after Potter had been returned to those wretched Muggles. He was not looking forward to it in the least.

-

Harry was woken by a fantastic smell that made his stomach growl despite filling up on bacon sandwiches earlier.

“Lunch, Potter.”

He blinked, and sat up. It looked like he’d fallen asleep on Snape’s sofa—but the television was off and there was a blanket over him. Confused, he pushed it off him and ventured into the kitchen.

Snape handed him the tuna tin without looking at him. “The opener’s in the middle drawer under the kettle. Get the cheese grater as well.”

“Okay.” Harry retrieved both utensils while Snape was cutting open the potatoes and buttering them.

“Salt? Pepper?”

“Yes please sir.”

Snape gestured at Harry to grate the cheese over one of the potatoes, and he did so while Snape seasoned them, opened up the tuna and began mixing in the mayonnaise. He seemed quite liberal with it, as much as with the butter.

Once the food was dished up, Snape gestured at Harry to sit and then opened a carton of pumpkin juice and poured out two glasses.

“Thank you sir.”

They ate in complete silence. Harry had a feeling that Snape was making him a substantial meal because he was going to be doing some pretty physical stuff in the afternoon. That would make sense. Surely the Dursleys must have told him he was supposed to be on a diet.

Unless they had forgotten. Well Harry wasn’t going to mention it.

Harry was really struggling to eat the second half of his meal, his stomach uncomfortably full. Snape seemed to notice, and put down his cutlery.

“You can finish it later if you’re full now.”

“Thank you,” Harry said in relief, putting down his cutlery as well.

“Back to work, then.”

They returned to the potions lab, and resumed the tasks from earlier. Harry felt even better for the food and the rest, and mused ironically that it was a novelty for Snape to make him feel better in any sense.

The potions Snape was working on, and the ingredients he was having Harry prepare, were all done in a couple of hours, at which point Snape suggested he finish his lunch. Harry ate the rest of his potato, wondering what Snape was going to have him do now, and was taken back into the living room.

He hadn’t really looked around before, but two of four walls were lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves. In a corner there was a desk with a pile of books and papers on it and around the floor.

Snape explained the shelving system to Harry and engaged him in re-shelving everything. Not doing it alone though, but organising it all on the floor while Snape, being taller, actually put it all back.

Again, they worked in silence. Harry was tired, but not exhausted anymore, and after a few more hours Snape called a halt again and told Harry to watch the television again whilst he put dinner on.

He was getting dinner as well? Harry was completely flummoxed, but had no intention of questioning Snape’s bizarre behaviour. If someone wanted to give him food, he wasn’t going to complain. He made himself comfortable on the sofa again and started a wizard’s chess game against himself, thoroughly confusing the pieces.

Dinner turned out to be bangers and mash. As much as Harry wanted to be able to finish it, he thought he would burst if he ate any more food that day. Snape put the remaining sausage and potato in the fridge for the next day. After the meal, Harry expected to be put to work again, but Snape looked at the clock.

“There’s not much point starting any new task.”

Since it was only seven o’clock, and Harry knew Snape had agreed with his relatives on returning Harry at eight, he wasn’t sure what planet Snape was living on, but didn’t bother to correct him. He spent the last hour in front of the television trying not to fall asleep again.

He was apparently unsuccessful, for he was woken by Snape shaking him. “Time to go, Potter.”

Harry scrambled off the sofa, stifling a yawn. Snape held out something small. “Take this.”

It looked like a piece of gum. “What is it?”

“It will remove all evidence that you have been eating.”

Harry followed Snape’s instructions, popping it in his mouth and chewing. A cold burst made his mouth feel numb for a moment, and the whatever-it-was disappeared. Sure enough, when Harry smelled his breath, he couldn’t detect a thing.

“Thanks, Professor.”

“Oh, and not forgetting …”

Snape withdrew a wallet and rifled through the Muggle money it held. “It was ten pounds per hour, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

He counted out notes, handing Harry two hundred.

“Er … sir …”

“Yes, Potter, I can count.” Snape separated eighty from the rest. “Make sure you keep that somewhere your relatives won’t find it.”

Harry blinked at Snape. After all that about conning, and Snape was doing exactly as the other neighbours had? Was it a test to see if he would take it?

“I-I can’t take that, sir,” Harry said.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I don’t expect you to be a house-elf and work for nothing.”

“What happened to ‘looking for people to fleece’?”

Snape closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Potter, just take the damn money, or you may find I feel less favourable towards you next time.”

Harry slowly took the money. “I dunno where I’m gonna hide it though; my aunt and uncle already searched my room. There’s nowhere I can hide it they didn’t look before; if they look again—”

“Hmm.” Snape looked thoughtful. He strode over to one shelf which held several ornaments, including a china jar. He lifted the lid and popped the eighty pounds inside. “There. I will put your money in here and you can collect it at the end of the holiday. In the meantime if you need anything, just help yourself any time you’re here. Understand?”

Harry nodded. “Thank you, sir!”

He would regain what the Dursleys had taken from him in no time at all. He couldn’t believe Snape was this generous. Or that rich, come to that. His house was in much better shape than theirs, but still it didn’t scream “able to afford to pay two hundred pounds a day for odd jobs”.

He didn’t have much of a chance to think it over. Snape marched him over the road, grasping him by the scruff of the neck, and the Dursleys’ front door opened before he had a chance to ring the doorbell.

“He wasn’t too much trouble was he?” Petunia asked.

“I didn’t give him a chance to be. Same time tomorrow, Potter, and I expect you to be awake this time and not still snoring away when I turn up.” Snape nodded politely at Petunia, and Harry stared in bewilderment as he turned and swept back across the road.


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