Harry's guide to being a grownup by Hopeless Wanderer

Chapter six.

"Are you absolutely sure that you are up for this job?"

Harry nodded somewhat reluctantly. "It's just temporary, correct?" the job was demanding as it was, and although his desperation was what led him to this job, he wasn't sure he could stick to it. He never did.

The old woman nodded and pushed her half moon glasses up the bridge of her nose with a hum.

"Here's his file then, I suppose he would expect your presence tomorrow morning. Keep in mind that you also have to do the grocery, and the cleaning." she briskly rounded the table and handed him a thick envelope.

"Doesn't he have a maid?" these kind of people usually had one of those, well, people that Harry had worked for anyway, he hated it when they confused him for one, he wasn't a maid or whatever, he was a nurse. Even that wasn't by choice .

"He threw them out. I told you he is a difficult man, that is why the center suggested you in the first place. I heard that you are rather stubborn with your clients?" he wasn't really, he was just desperate.

"I'd be sure to let you know if the work is too much madam." he bowed his head and accepted the file, retrieved his thread thin coat from the chair and sighed.

The woman scrambled to stop him, putting a hand on his shoulder with an affronted expression on her face. "I know you're struggling lately Potter. I already tagged a wage raise in your resume, your medications aren't growing out of trees."

Horrified, the seventeen year old gaped. "What?! But I didn't ask for a raise madam!" he was never one to accept charity, he would rather die ( had been close to it a few times) than accept pity money. Yes, he was having a tough time and with the aftermath of war, the drugs were not getting any cheaper, but he wasn't a thief.

The Stern woman clicked her tongue and patted his face. "You deserve it Potter, trust me. This man is a good man nonetheless, although very bitter. I suppose he would also be able to help you with your problem?"

"I don't believe that's necessary Mrs. Mcgonagal, but thank you for the offer. If that's all?"

He was tired, hungry and he had to work another shift at leaky cauldron until he could leave off for tomorrow, the sooner he got there, chances of having a warm meal were more likely. He was already late as it was, and remnant of his headaches were starting to patch up again.

He tightened the coat around his frail frame, fixed his wool hat tightly set on his ears and crammed his freezing fingers in his torn pockets, his fingers closing around his wallet for safety, his shoes clicked and slurped on the wet sidewalk, avoiding water poodles and occasionally shouldering people in his hurry as he went. He couldn't afford a cab tonight, he had been forced to turn in his tips to Tom because he clumsily broke several plates last week, with him already failing to gather enough money to pay for his meds... Well, let's just say warm meals and cabs and warm clothes were a luxury he couldn't afford.

Their economy was failing as it was, the impact was painfully clear, fresh out of war, the money spent on their weapons alone was eye bulging, putting them in debt after it all ended, and in a world that had no rational mind, to a world that was until recently busy fighting with itself... This didn't matter at all. Harry was lucky, maybe too lucky, despite being an orphan, to find a job and a rat nest to stay in, he wouldn't survive two hours out in the streets, brother wouldn't pity brother these days.

Who would pity him enough to give him a raise?

Taking two steps at the time, Harry hurried up the creaking steps and opened the trap door with semi numb fingers, London's biting cold weather was just cruel in fall, it's like it hasn't decided if it's too soon for snowing or too late for a sunny day (which was a rare occurrence on itself) though the lack of structure might have a say in the whipping cold too.

Painstakingly, he rushed to his small gaslight set and lighted it up, rubbing his hands for warmth. He didn't stay here often, his clients were mostly kind enough or selfish enough to offer him a place to stay in for the duration of his work with them, though they did lower his payment in return, so it was attics and maybe the guest room if it had been unbearably cold or they just felt generous.

His last client was an incredibly old woman with dementia, by then Harry was on his third client and too experienced to leave an old person like that by herself. To be honest though, she sort of freaked him out, and turned to be out right cruel when she didn't recognize him... Harry found her corpse last week when he was running through the morning routine. For a woman in that age, she seemed to certainly believe in committing suicide.

Specks of dust broke out the air, as the young man fetched the crumbled file out of his inner pocket with a scowl.

"Severus Snape. Who are you?" the picture was young, much younger than the people Harry had been used to work with, maybe in his forties, with shoulder length hair that Harry could already tell was barely taken care of, and a permanent sneer etched in his face. Grimacing, Harry skimmed through the pages and settled on the information.

Forty. Harry had been right then, the man had exactly hit his fortieth milestone, had paralyses in his right leg and left shoulder due to... Oh. Former Navy.
His eyes winded in realization.

War veteran. Severus Snape was an officer. He didn't look like one though, Harry squinted at the picture again, chewing on his fingers.

Could he work with a war veteran? Why hadn't anyone told him that sooner? Harry sighed in annoyance.

Working with war veterans was hard on itself, except taking care of them, most were mentally challenged or dealing with PTSD, which enhanced their urge to kill themselves under Harry's watch. Not only that, but Harry had nasty memories of war and didn't need to be reminded again by living with a trained solider in the thick of things.

The file already informed him that the man had a nasty behavior and a bitter language, dealing with depression, and needed out most care twenty four seven, the last nurse had even left a tag, apparently deciding to give them a piece of her mind before departure.

' Mr. Snape while being abnormally intelligent and open minded, is obnoxiously rude and biased toward his staff, one of the most notorious people I had had the displeasure of meeting. '

Charming. Harry thought sarcastically.

With a huff, as he determined that his limbs wouldn't fall off from the cold, he trudged down the stairs, leaving the opened file on his tattered mattress, as he was quickly tying a greasy stained apron around his waist.

"Finally got a job?"

He nodded and got behind the bar. "Ay, caregiver." he spat out.

Horace huffed out a laugh. "Splendid, lad. You get to wash their bums again until this one's driven to kill himself."

"I don't... I don't wash..."

He did actually, he was forced to /fully/ take care of the elders so he would get paid, so he could get his own damn pills and not be forced to beg Slughorn to buy his meds for him. Honestly, sometimes, he wished he could end it all instead of Lucinda ( old crazy bat with dementia)

"Time for the pill?" a dull throb had already formed at his temples.

Harry sighed and fished out his wallet, handing it out without checking, Horace popped the container open and shook out two white round pills.

His eyes widened. "Only two?! Horace, I need at least four with the amount of money I gave." after he had been fired off with no payment and money, he had been two steps from dying, he had no money to buy his meds to treat his incurable migraines, out of desperation, he begged the man to buy him some, in exchange Slughorn charged him for the pills he gave every damn day.

"It's all you're getting lad."

"Come on, you don't play fair." hopefully this Snape guy had enough conscious to pay him his fee, so Harry wouldn't be forced to beg pigs like this guy anymore.
The man shrugged and turned away. "You pay, I give. You're lucky I haven't charged you for the attic too. Hard times we're living in, hard!"

Harry stiffened, accepted the pills and just rolled his eyes, he needed the attic and this job, pills be damned, he could deal with headaches somehow, but he would never want to be left on the streets like some stray cat. The society was a cruel place for him to be right now, fresh out of war and devastation. Still too raw to heal. In debt.

By midnight it was so cold, that Harry decided he would fair better by sleeping in his chair rather than the mattress on the floor, his muscles all ached from the recent strain they had been put under, and his hands were numb again after washing dishes for at least three hours straight.

Shivering, he curled up in his rocking chair and opened up Snape's file for surveying again.

You need the money, he told himself, this is all about staying alive and nothing else, he would be willing to do anything, taking care of a jerk like Snape shouldn't seem that hard.

Harry wished he could take that back the next morning as he started his way towards the man's house with a churning stomach. The weather was too cold, the streets were mostly vacant that early in the morning, and so Harry figured the address pretty quickly.
Number ten, Spinner's end.

With a thumping heart, he cleared his throat and raised his fist to knock, the former nurse was supposed to stay with the man until he had arrived in the morning.
The door opened to a scrawny looking woman with blond hair and horse like features, for some reason reminding Harry of his deceased aunt. He cleared his throat.

"Hi madam, I'm Harry Potter..."

"The nurse?" she asked eagerly, /dragged/ him into the house, and thrust an envelope in his arms.

"Do not, under any circumstances ask him about the pictures and never give him tea with milk. The milk should be served individually. Don't talk back to him, and do not reveal personal information about yourself, he's rather cruel when it comes to it." she rambled on, in one breath.

Speechless, Harry only nodded as the tearful woman took her last glance around the gloomy house and slammed the door behind her with a loud crash. For a few moments, Harry stood, dumbfounded as he stared at the door. It couldn't that bad, he thought, women do tend to exaggerate things.

"How long are you planning on standing and gaping at my door?" with a yelp, he jumped back, almost dropping back on his bum.

The looming figure of the man was scarier than his silhouette, standing proud with a long black cane and a sneering face. Severus Snape did not look in need of a nurse at all, if anything Harry was the one wetting his pants at the intimating sight.

"Well?" the man demanded with his booming voice and Harry flushed.

He scrambled off the ground. "Sorry. Sorry, I'm Harry Potter sir, your new caregiver."

The man wrinkled his nose, the cane smacking the wooden ground once more. "I did not request as such."

Harry cleared his throat and shook his head. "I... I am not aware of the details, I just know..."

"You just /know/?"

"Sorry." Harry didn't know why he felt the need to apologize.

"Well, now you do. Run back to that old coot and tell him that his antics are getting too aggravating for me to endure."

"... Old coot? " surely he couldn't mean Mcgonagal? The pronouns was a he.

The man turned stiffly and started limping back toward his own living room.

"Albus Bloody Dumbledore. Who else? Despicable old coot. And all I did was teach for him, and only two years at that."

Um... Harry had no idea what this man was talking about. "Um, I don't know any Dumbledore, sir, at any rate, I am your new caregiver now and..." Snape cut him off with a scowl, and gnarled.

"Are you daft boy? I just said that I did not require a bloody caregiver. There must have been a mistake." he stated. Harry swallowed thickly, confusion and frustration slowly spreading across his consciousness.

"Your former nurse just... Ran away." he half turned and pointed at the door with a confused glance.

Snape rolled his eyes at him, sighing. "She didn't, I fired her. Now get out of my property." Harry took a step back as Snape took one forward with his cane.

"I can't sir, I already signed the contract, I am entitled to do my job properly and with no..."

"Oh? Then you're fired." the veteran shot back mockingly. Harry bristled.

"What?!"

Still jeering, he turned and took stride with his long sleek cane, Harry could barely distinguish the man's shoulder length black hair from his all black outfit.

"Plain and simple... What's your name?... Ahh, that's right, Potter. You are here by fired."

Oh, like hell he was! Who was this guy to fire him the moment he set foot in the house?! He didn't even know Harry!

"You can't just do that!" he might have yelled louder than intended. Snape paused by his archaic doorway, looking at Harry over his shoulder, looking painfully unimpressed.

"Watch me boy. Now get out so I can get some rest."

"Are you having any pain?"

"I said get. Out. Now."

"Sir, you are not my boss, apparently this Dumbeldore person is, and I really need the job. I really do." besides, he had gotten the job at the center, so his case was absolutely legit, Snape had no right to treat him like this.

"Why? Do you have a wife? Children perhaps?"

Harry flushed. "No, I don't, but..."

"Then get out you vermin, or I might just end up notifying the authorities."

Harry shook his head frantically, and jogged forward to keep up with the man, who was surprisingly fast, considering his injury. "Sir please, what about you seat, and I go make us some t..tea. I'm sure we can talk then."

Snape feigned surprise, and raised his eyebrows in a perfect arch. "Have a tea party? What a splendid idea Mr. Potter!" his demeanor dramatically changed into a glare.

"I will not repeat myself again, either get out or..."

"Or what?" Harry foolishly dared.

"Or I promise you, you never get a job like this again. And not because you are unable to." the man countered coolly.

Harry's heart sank, as he did not doubt the man for a minute. Even if he got kicked out of here, he needed his job, and his attachment to the center to provide enough opportunities for him. He didn't know how Snape could possibly go on with his threat, but he wasn't waiting around to see.

"This is more difficult than I have thought. Do you have a telephone sir? Maybe if I call the center then you can..." turning on a deaf ear, the older man turned and started his own rant, striding to his living room with a growing limp.

"Albus did all this didn't he? Bloody old man, I'll show him." he threatened and snatched up some of his half opened books from the table. Harry unwittingly trailed after him, too afraid that the man would drop dead right in front of him.

"I swear to merlin, that man is delirious." the man continued, and tore off a few envelopes into debris.

Unsure, and feeling as if he was intruding, Harry cleared his throat. "Sir..."

"Potter." he turned, his stoic face betrayed no outward emotions.

"Wait, please! I swear I'm not a fraud! I even have the contract sir, it's completely legit, I swear!" just trust him to miss the one thing he would need right now, Harry grumbled. Where the hell was his certification? Not that it was a official one, but still could save him tons of trouble and maybe even his job.

Snape, turned back to his work, stacking up several parchments and some files, reclining his cane on his engraved chair. "I did not hire you, and as such you have no reason to reside at my house for any periods of time or any reasons whatsoever."

"I do, sir. You need to understand, I really need this job, and you... Well you require my help. Please don't let me down." he couldn't handle one day without consuming a fistful of pills, and he was short on everything as it was.

"I see..."

"Please..."

Snape sighed in exasperation. Surely, cursing this Dumbledore person and Harry on the top in his head. "Fine, you may clean the house for now. Do not open the door for anyone and do not reply to the telephone if it were to ring, also don't even think about getting close to my room. Is that clear?"

"I..."

"Is that clear?" he repeated forcefully.

Harry yielded. "Yes sir."

"Brilliant." Snape said sarcastically. Starting to head to the hallway that led to the front door. Startled, Harry craned his neck, peering from the living room.

"Where are you going?" what if the man was really serious about costing him his job? Bloody hell! He dropped his hands and quickly followed the man.

"What does it look like to you? My room Potter." Snape gritted out.

Harry narrowed his eyes in confusion, his glance trailing between the door and his client. "But you're..."

The man titled his head up to the roof and closed his eyes with a loud sigh. His fingers clenched around the cane.

"Another dunderhead. Oh merlin, help me. Who is going to lock the door then, you moronic boy? You think I would trust you with that?"

"You're locking the door?" paranoid much? Was left hanging in the air. In a bout of exasperation and annoyance, Snape heaved another heavy sigh, and rolled his eyes.

"From now on, you are forbidden from talking. Even your voice alone grates my brain Potter. Stop asking idiotic question and have some patience. It's clear that your presence here is one of impulsiveness and desperation. Enjoy it while it lasts." he then managed to shoulder his way to the staircase as Harry was left gaping.

"But.."

"Not. One. Word."

Gladly.

Harry wanted to retort, but bite his inner lip and gritted his teeth. Slowly, deliberately, the man made his way up the stairs with quivering steps, obviously too proud to ask for help, or too stubborn too admit that he needed it. Harry hovered by, pretending to look for the cleaning equipment while making sure the man didn't slip and cracked his head open as he went.

Damn him!

That man was nuts! Clearly Lucinda wasn't the oddest he had been saddled with.

You need the money Potter, no matter how stubborn or how daft, you gotta put up with him. You just have to. He told himself, and decided to explore the house while he had the chance.

Despite claiming that Snape had a maid, this place looked filthy, the house had the very impression of dying, with creaking doors and steps, broken down furniture (with exception of an armchair that clearly belonged to the man.) and the gigantic bookshelves the occupied the man's living room. Books of every kind and nature were scattered throughout the room, some opened and some bookmarked with the strangest of things, Harry actually caught a dirty spoon in one of the volumes.

Overall, this was the very last thing he had expected of the man's house, of how he could even afford a caregiver at this point. Though he had heard that the ministry gave the veterans frequent salaries and various life insurances. Lucky him.

With a pulsing beat in his head, Harry reluctantly took the man's order in heed, and found a broom to clean the house with, subconsciously, trying to snoop around Snape's stuff as much as possible.

There was no personal furniture or evidence of Snape anywhere around the house, the mantle held no pictures, and each worn out furniture indicated lack of attachment . So the man was really distant. Harry idly wondered what that woman was talking about earlier, since there was no pictures about to inquire about.
Severus Tobias Snape, was a high ranking Royal Navy officer. Harry had read in the file. The one thing his country was greater at, was its navy army. Harry knew for a fact, that they had been the most successful too. Snape's division was one of the direct battle ships in /operation overlord/, doubled with allied airforce, arriving at the last minute for aid, Harry had heard every bit off the beat up radio residing at Slughorn's pub.

So Snape had been pretty much in the thick of things, operation overlord was one of the most extreme squad attacks in the late 1994, even though the allies were successful, they didn't come out unscathed, according to Snape's file, the man was a royal navy officer, one of the very few that survived the sunken ship German forces shot down.

Snape got retired exactly a year before the war ended, having received quite the impact for the rest of his life.

And now, the man was claiming he didn't apply for a nurse, lived in a hell hole, when Harry knew he could ask for better, and was a selfish, rude, bitter pig.
Harry worked his ass off for a few hours and pointlessly tried to rid the house off grim as much as possible, when Snape decided to grace him with his presence.

"You're still here Boy?" his sneer, tore Harry's confident apart.

Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Who else?

"Yes sir. Did you rest well?" he managed to ask softly. Snape snorted, his cane clicking on the hard wood ground as the man passed him and strode to his armchair with a refreshed air about him.

"None of your business, isn't it?"

Harry snapped his jaw, wringing the hem of his shirt. "Actually sir, I'm your caregiver, and your comfort is my responsibility. By the way, isn't it time for your medication?"

"Potter. The only reason you're here now, is that you are free labour, and this house needed slight cleaning. Now for the last time, I do not need a nurse. End of the story."

"So I'm basically a servant." Harry snapped back.

Snape shrugged, nonchalantly. "You're the one who put a label on yourself, view it as you find, if that old crack pot is paying your fee, I don't see a problem."

"I'm not comfortable with that. I'm a nurse, I take care of people, not clean houses." he was even reduced to washing old people's bodies in order to stay alive, he bore on their insults and arrogant behavior, even endured one of his client's death by finding her corpse all by himself. He wasn't a simple servant, Snape could push around.

"That fact that you're still here proves that you are desperate Potter. Otherwise you would've left when you had the chance." the man observed dryly.

"Sir.... Please be rational. I'm sure this old person you're speaking of wouldn't have hired me if you weren't in dire need of a nurse, and even if you don't, why don't you let me handle..." the man sneered once again and Harry flinched.

"Are you implying that I can't decide for myself? You arrogant fool, you are the most obnoxious nurse I have met so far."

That did not sound like a compliment. Harry thought as his blood ran cold.

"I wasn't implying.."

"Enough, Potter. Thank you for dusting the house, now pick up your money and get out of my house." Snape opened up a journal, and started skimming through the pages. Harry wasn't giving up easily.

"I need this job, and you need a nurse..." suddenly, Severus snapped the journal and stared at him with deathless black eyes. Seeing right through his soul.

"Why? Why do you need this job?"

The woman's warning engulfed his senses. Don't tell him about your personal life... It's not like there was much to it though, he was seventeen, orphaned at the age of two, then robbed of his family once the war began, and living off the streets and then with Horace the last four years.
Also dealing with strange, painful and incurable headaches with only a very low chance at survival.

"Sir.." he wrung the hem of his sleeves.

"Why?" the man pressed.

Blowing a long breath, Harry scoffed. "I'm sick, okay?! I need this job to stay alive, now stop pestering me, I'm not leaving, end of story!"

"That is a lie." the man said bluntly.

"How dare you!!" how dare he?!

The man stood once more, and retrieved his cane. He coolly answered. "If you really needed this money to stay alive, you would've been satisfied by just cleaning my house, you're either very picky or just a fraud."

Harry stiffened, gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to loudly snap his jaw or pull out his hair from frustration.

"I don't have to explain anything to you sir, my personal life is none of your business, and your life isn't any business of mine. I'm a nurse, I would do my duties as such, now give me some money so I can get some groceries. Your kitchen is empty." he rambled on instead, finding it the best way to confuse old people, or his clients, was subtly giving them direct orders while feeding them with lengthy sentences.

Snape wasn't as fooled and raised his eyebrow. "Don't tell me you haven't found the money jar yet."

"Second drawer to the left. I just wanted to be polite." Harry replied without missing a beat.

"I'm impressed."

"Then give me a chance." please, Snape. The guy was his last chance.

Snape nodded thoughtfully for a moment and looked past his shoulder, his eyes narrowing. "Alright then, Potter, the boy who claims he dies without this job. You have three days to prove yourself, step one foot stray and you will face dire consequences, and so will that fool, Albus for impulsively hiring an inexperienced boy like you. Was that clear?"

his brow ceased the frown and Harry grinned with relief."Absolutely sir, now are you going to take your medication?"

Snape actually snorted. "Get a move on you brat, if I wanted to await your charming reminder to take my meds, I would've perished by now. Go." Harry halted by the door and turned back on his heels.

"Do you promise to let me back in? Because there's no way I'm retuning back home in this rain." but I'm willing to go shopping as long as I get to take the job.

Another sigh in resignation. "You may spend the night. Now for the last time, get out of my sight."

Thank merlin. The man wasn't an absolute douche. He could do this.