Harry stepped down off of the dusty stool he'd been standing on, and wished that his basement window wasn't rusted shut so that he could get some of the cool sea air into the dank, dark room. It wasn't really a room, just the basement, although Harry had decided that moving did have its advantages, because the basement was massively larger than his cupboard under the stairs had been. If not for the lack of view and windows, Harry considered himself very lucky actually, because his new ‘room' was five times the size of Dudley's. Of course there were boxes piled up in one corner, and Harry had already run out into the backyard to set several rats free, but still... he had leg room here, even if he did still sleep on a cot.

Just before Harry had come home from his fourth year at Hogwarts, Grunning's had transferred Uncle Vernon to oversee its new facility in Swanage, about three hours south of London, and so Harry had come back to Four Privet Drive to find the house packed into boxes waiting for him to load into the large moving van the Dursleys had rented. That was yesterday. Today they were in Swanage moving into the new house on Victoria Road.

Dust fell from the ceiling into Harry's hair as Dudley purposefully jumped about right above him in the living room, and Harry coughed, shaking his hair out. Perhaps he could find a spare sheet and somehow attach it to the ceiling over his cot to keep the dust away, he thought.

Upstairs he could hear Aunt Petunia shouting for him, so he hurried up the cracking concrete stairs and began moving boxes again and shifting furniture to where she wanted it. It was almost eight o'clock by the time Harry had the majority of the house unpacked (including Dudley's room), and had fixed them all dinner while the Dursleys had settled in front of the telly. Harry had been lucky Uncle Vernon had let him nab a big hunk of cheese from the table after he was finished, and didn't want to risk it being taken away, so he moved instead outside to the front of the house, feeling he would like some cool air before retreating to the warm basement for the night.

As Harry sat on the front step eating his cheese, he thought that perhaps this summer would be better than the last because Dudley had no friends here to help him Harry hunt and gang up on him. Just as he took his last bite a boy with a crew cut rode up on his bicycle and stopped on the sidewalk in front of the house.

"Who are yeh then?"

"Harry," he said, not getting up.

"'An what are yeh doin' in tha' house?"

"Just moved in."

The boy gave him a sneer, though not anything close to the one Draco would have managed for him.

"Well don' expect teh be goin' teh my school in the fall yeh wanker. Ain't got no room fer the likes of yeh."

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, irritated. There really was no reason to be rude about it, was there? "I go to private school. So does my cousin."

"I didn' ask abou' yer cousin did I?"

Rolling his eyes, Harry finally stood up. "Well, I'd say it's been nice meeting you, but it really hasn't. I'll be going now."

"Wait."

Harry turned again to look at the boy on the bike. For a brief moment jealousy passed through Harry that the boy had a bike and Harry didn't, even though the paint was all scratched up and one of the pedals looked like it was going to fall off.

"What?"

"Watch out fer the bloke next door. He's a right mean one. Only comes ‘ere in the summer," and then the boy rode off.

Harry watched as the boy rode down the street and turned a corner, disappearing from view. Well, it wasn't a great start to his summer, but it could have been worse... he could have been stuffed into his cupboard right now or still facing many hours of grueling detentions with Snape as he had for the last week of school that year. At least it would be a Snape-free summer.

Deciding that he'd had enough of the neighbors already, Harry decided to go back down to his basement to put up a sheet over his bed, but as soon as he went through the front door, aunt Petunia was yelling at him for talking to ‘neighborhood thugs'. Uncle Vernon came into the entryway to see what the issue was and narrowed his eyes at Harry.

"Listen here boy," he said, jamming his thick stubby finger into Harry's chest hard enough to hurt. "I'll have none of your nonsense here. This is a new start for Petunia and Dudley and I, and the last thing we need is you causing all sorts of neighborhood trouble. I'll have your hide boy, mark my words."

"Yes uncle Vernon," Harry said in a drone like voice. He knew he'd better obey because Vernon did not make empty threats. Last summer he'd spent agonizing weeks with a bruised, aching body in his cupboard or doing grueling chores just because Piers and Dudley had lied about him and said the cigarettes aunt Petunia had found were Harry's. He didn't want a repeat of that. If this was a new start for the Dursleys, he had no idea what it was for him. Certainly they wouldn't just forget their feelings towards him just because they were in a new city in a new house.

* * *

Severus Snape sighed when he saw the moving van sitting in front of the house next door. He'd been looking forward to going home for the summer but now he had to worry about irritating new neighbors. Keeping the porch light off he entered his dark home and threw his keys onto the hallway table. The house smelled like dust because he hadn't been here since just before Christmas when he'd come back to retrieve a book he'd wanted.

Severus hated neighbors. The last ones he'd had had been pompous, stuck up socialites that believed they were better than everyone else. The fact that he owned a nice house on the bay seemed to affront them. He was willing to bet that the next bunch of Muggles would be just as bad. He hoped they didn't have children. That would be even worse.

Feeling tired from his end of the year grading and journey home, Severus went upstairs and turned on the bedroom lamp before sitting down on the edge of his bed and putting a hand up to his face. It had been a long term, and that blasted Potter brat and the tournament hadn't made it any easier. And then the child had the audacity to think that rules would be bent just for him, and forced Severus to give him a week long detention right at the end of term.

Sighing he lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. It was good to be home. THUMP. Severus frowned. What was that? It hadn't come from inside the house. CRASH.

Standing up, Severus went back into the hallway and into the next room, the one with a window facing the new neighbors. He waited in the darkness momentarily before he heard shouting. So it was them. He hoped a bunch of uppity, rich hooligans hadn't moved in. He'd hate to have to go back to Hogwarts just to get away from more children. There was another loud THUMP and one last shout before the house next door fell silent once more. Well, he thought, irritated that they were already disrupting his only peaceful time of the year. He went back to his room where he swallowed a headache potion and promptly went to bed before he could find himself irritated by the neighbors for a third time that night.

The next morning, Severus pulled a curtain back slightly to stare out the window at the neighbor's house as he sipped his hot coffee. So they did have children... one big fat one to be exact. He bet the boy was the cause of all the ruckus last night, probably throwing a tantrum. Hating the feeling of being the ‘nosy' neighbor, he let the curtain fall closed and sat down at his kitchen table. There was a house a few blocks over that was still on the bay and had just gone up for sale. It had a bigger back yard, perhaps he'd go look at that. It's biggest advantage was that there was some distance between that house and its neighbors on either side, and he knew for a fact that one of the neighbors was a little old woman. Or maybe he'd just stick around here, in the first home he'd ever owned outside of Spinner's End, and see if his new neighbors were as obnoxious as he thought they were.

* * *

Harry was watching the neighborhood teens again. He was sure they had noticed him by now, skulking a few blocks down the street under the lamp post each night after the Dursleys had gone to bed. Harry wondered if these boys were old enough to be out on their own, or if their parents just didn't care about them if they were out this late. So long as Harry came in unnoticed (he'd figured out how to get his basement window open enough for him to climb out onto the small side lawn), then the Dursleys didn't care either. They refused to come down into his ‘filthy' room, and so he hadn't been caught yet.

After three days of cleaning, unpacking and moving heavy boxes, and weeding the backyard in the hopes that he'd be fed, Harry was hungry. He supposed that's what had prompted him to sneak out again and again to watch the neighborhood boys. He didn't have Hedwig to send off to Ron and Hermione to ask for food, not that he would, it was too embarrassing, and the Dursleys had gone as far as putting a lock on the refrigerator to enforce his ‘punishment'.

As if no food for three days hadn't been punishment enough, uncle Vernon had given him a good thrashing, if for no other reason than just to prove a point, or perhaps it was a preemptive punishment. Whatever the cause, it made Harry want to leave the house whenever he could. Maybe tailing the other neighborhood boys to their street corner every night was giving Harry a sense of freedom he didn't have when he was with the Dursleys.

Harry's eyes came into focus under the streetlamp just in time to see the three boys down the street staring at him, and the taller of the three with a red sideways cap giving him an upward nod. He'd been spotted. He was surprised they hadn't seen him before, or maybe they had and had just been ignoring him.

Harry wasn't sure if they wanted trouble or not, but the last thing he needed was a thrashing from them as well, so he turned and walked away. He didn't give a look behind him to see if they followed until he'd turned the corner and was down the next street a ways. Still not wanting to return back to his hot basement, Harry went down a narrow alley between two rows of houses, and continued walking until he'd made it out of the neighborhood and into town where he could possibly find something to eat. There had to be someplace still open. Maybe he could wait around by the dumpsters until they threw out something fresh. He shuddered, not wanting to think of the ‘five second rule' but he didn't know what else to do. He couldn't go all summer without something to eat, could he? No.

What were his other alternatives? He supposed that if the Dursleys didn't expect him to work all day that he could get a job. Maybe someone would take him on for a night time shift. His aunt and uncle usually left him alone at seven o'clock after he'd finished the dinner dishes and the rest of his evening chores. Stopping in front of a dark window, Harry eyed the black eye he had and wondered if anyone would hire a teenager who looked like he'd been fighting. It was too bad that nobody took sickles and Galleons for payment because he had a pocketful of those left from his time in the wizarding world.

He supposed another option would be to just run away, but he'd been warned about sticking close to the Dursleys or else his mother's magic on their home would wear off. What if he just ran off to Hogwarts?

Watching his reflection as he scrunched up his nose in the window, he decided that it probably wasn't a good option. He didn't know if anyone stayed at Hogwarts over the summer, so there was no guarantee he'd be safe there from Voldemort, even if he did know how to get to the castle. He really would rather have nothing to do with the wizarding world at all right now, now that he thought about it. Thinking about anything that had to do with magic or Cedric made him feel sick.

Harry walked along the streets until he came to a diner that was open late. He stood in front of it for several minutes with his hands in his pockets, trying to figure out what he could say to the manager inside to get himself a job. Finally he pushed open the door and tried to ignore the weary look of the lone waitress, and stares of the three patrons, each sitting alone at their own separate tables.

"Can I talk to the manager?" Harry asked the waitress.

"What for? I ain't seen you in here before. You got no bad service to complain about."

"I was going to ask for a job," Harry said.

"What are you, fourteen?" She smirked.

"Fifteen and I'll be sixteen next month," Harry lied, taking his hands out of his pockets now.

"Yeah, and you think he wants a troublemaker like you working in here? Get real."

Harry let out a deep breath. "I'm a hard worker. I'll clean up or whatever he wants."

She stuck her thumb out and towards the door. "Get lost. Don't come back until you have some money to pay for service."

Harry narrowed his eyes and as he turned and walked back to the door, he muttered loudly, "Kind of hard to do without a job." A little angry, he tossed open the door and walked back out into the cool night air.

After another twenty minutes, and three more turn-downs, Harry was feeling dejected. It was really beginning to look as if he wasn't going to get anything to eat at all this summer. Maybe they'd just have to send a search party out for him when he didn't turn up back at school, and they'd never find him because the Dursleys had moved, and he'd be buried in the backyard or dumped into the bay.

"Been fightin'?"

Harry turned to spy a girl in her twenties smoking a cigarette a few feet behind him. He hadn't even noticed her as he'd passed or the cafe she was standing outside.

"No," Harry said, hands back in his pockets now.

"Well yer skulkin' and yeh got a nice shiner."

He shrugged. "Haven't been fighting," was all he could say. He'd never told Ron or Hermione about his family and had no reason to tell some stranger on the street.

"But yeh are skulkin'."

"I was out looking for a night job," Harry said. "Got turned down three times." He lifted his hand to motion back down the long curving street to indicate the other late night establishments.

"I expect it was the skulkin'."

"Ok," Harry said, "I get it. You can stop now."

"Now how yeh expect teh get a job bein' all moody like that?"

Harry sighed. "Guess I won't. Just wanted some money to eat was all."

"How old are yeh then?"

"I'll be sixteen next month," Harry lied again.

She looked him up and down. "Mind washin' dishes and takin' out trash?"

"No." He took his hands back out of his pockets. "Is there a job you know of?"

"Right here. The manager is my brother and I'm tired of takin' out the rubbish."

"I- can have the job then?"

"Seven nights a week, eight teh midnight. Yeh start tonight." She took off her green apron and tossed it at Harry.

"Put that on, and try teh wear somethin' nicer when yeh come tomorrow night."

Harry put it on over his head and tied it in the back in disbelief at his luck as he followed her inside. He was also surprised at how easy the work was and that he was allowed a ten minute break before he was released an hour and half later at midnight. He wouldn't get paid until next week, but Addy had turned away purposely while he took a couple of day old pastries from the display and a bottle of juice.

"Yeh don't get tips busboy," she said. "So I'll let yeh take that tonight."

Thinking he ought to act like the other Muggle boys in the neighborhood somehow, he gave her a single upward nod before taking off his apron and hanging it on the hook behind the counter, and also thanking her for the job before walking out. He ate the two pastries hungrily on his way home, hoping his stomach didn't rebel.

"Steal those, did you?" the rude waitress from the first restaurant shouted at him from across the street as he passed her on her break.

"Nope," Harry shouted. "Got a job, no thanks to you."

"Watch yourself *ned," she said, giving him a rude gesture which he didn't return. "Better not come back to our restaurant."

"No worries there," Harry mumbled. They'd probably spit in his food if he did.

* * *

If it weren't for the need to rise early at Hogwarts, Severus would have been a night owl year round. He knew what his students said about him being a vampire because of his pale skin and tendency to stalk the grounds at night, but he'd done nothing to dissuade the notion. The truth was, he liked taking walks through the dark streets in the cool night air, wandering through the woods under a full moon looking for grove berries and moon fruit, and staying up late with a good book and a cup of coffee. Coffee was another truth about Severus Snape. He supposed he could have lived without it, but he just didn't want to. On his late night strolls, it pleased him to wander into one cafe or another to get a steaming drink that would keep him awake for the rest of the night. It was only too bad that the Hogwarts house elves didn't make coffee like the Muggles did it. True, he could probably make his own cheaper at home, but that was besides the point. He liked being out, and if coffee happened to be ‘out there' somewhere, then it was on his way.

There was no place in particular that he liked best, so he had no specific destination as he strolled down the quiet street lit by dim street lamps. His mind was on nothing specific as he wandered, just reveling in the freedom of being on his own away from troublesome students and raging teenage hormones, when a shout down the street brought his attention back. It was some waitress shouting across the street at a dark figure with a hood up over his head. It disturbed him that he hadn't noticed that he'd been following the figure before, though the person was a good ways down the street.

"You're a nasty blighter!" the waitress shouted, followed by a rude gesture. Severus frowned, wondering what the other person had done to make her temper flare. As far as he could tell the person hadn't just come out of the restaurant.

"You're no peach either!"

Severus froze, and shivers ran down his spine in the cool night air as he stared down the street at the dark figure. He could have sworn it was Potter's voice. No, no it couldn't have been. He began walking again. Potter lived in a suburb up North... in Little Whinging wasn't it? No, it couldn't have been Potter. He listened as the woman shouted across the street again.

"I'll call the police if I keep seein' yeh stalkin' past here!"

The teen lifted his arm in a wave and said, "Ok!" and Severus growled. It sounded like the arrogant tone Potter usually strutted around with. Damn. He picked up his pace a little. If the brat had run away or some other nonsense then it was his duty as an Order member to follow him and drag him back to where his sorry rear end was supposed to be. It was only another few minutes before the boy lowered his hoodie to reveal jet black hair before pushing open the door to a much newer looking cafe, one Severus hadn't been to since around Christmas.

Severus wanted to know more about what the brat was doing here before he revealed himself. If he could prove something to the Headmaster then he might get some leeway to discipline the brat more strictly during the next school year, or better yet, get him transferred to some other school. He'd asked the Headmaster at least once a year to put the brat in Durmstrang or Beaxbatons, ‘for his own good,' he'd told the Headmaster, but Albus hadn't bought it.

From within his robe Severus pulled an emergency phial of ‘notice-me-not' and swallowed the purple potion, knowing it would transform him temporarily into someone else much as Polyjuice did. The difference was that this potion lasted for less than half an hour and didn't hurt to take. With his new look set in place, Severus pushed open the door to the cafe and went inside, eyes scanning for Potter, who was nowhere to be found. He scowled. The brat was up to something.

"What can I get yeh?" the young woman behind the counter asked. He knew from brief conversation with her during previous visits that her brother managed this place. With the number of tattoos and piercings she had, he was surprised she was still allowed to work here.

"Coffee, black." He sat down and waited for his drink to be brought to the table. There was only one other patron, a thirty something man with thick square glasses who was working on a Muggle computing device at the table across the small room. He didn't seem to notice that anyone else had come in.

Just as the waitress brought his coffee to the table and he handed her a Muggle note to pay for it, he spotted Potter coming out from the back with a stained white apron on over his gray hoodie and a ripped up pair of jeans. He was carrying a gray bus boy tub. It took a few moments for Severus to realize that Potter worked there because he'd been busy criticizing the boy's attire in his head.

"Again Harry?"

Harry turned to her and for the first time Severus saw his face. His left eye looked like it was just healing from a black eye and the right had a fresh black eye. There was also a small bruise near one ear.

He shrugged in response to her.

"Why do yeh stay there?"

"Don't know what you're talking about," he said quietly, and he reached down behind the counter to pick up a white rag and spray bottle and then proceeded to wipe down the counter.

"Well who yeh been fightin' then?"

"Nobody," Harry said, apparently determined to scrub the countertop clean.

She put her hands on her hips. "Every couple a days yeh come in with a new shiner or somethin'. Yeh gotta be fightin' somebody. I seen those boys on bikes hollerin' at yeh after yeh leave work some nights."

He shrugged again.

"Fine, fine, don' tell me. There's only one pastry left though, and yeh better hope a customer don' buy it like they did las' night." She pulled a cigarette out of her pocket and disappeared through a door into the back, probably on a break. Potter kept scrubbing.

Severus was surprised the brat would take a job at all. He hardly worked for anything at school that didn't involve Quidditch and had a vault full of gold under Gringotts to last him until he got out of school. No, the spoiled brat wouldn't work unless he had ulterior motives.

For all Severus saw though, Harry worked hard scrubbing the counters, mopping the floor, washing the front windows and door, washing dishes, and bringing a second and third coffee to the man working at the other table.

Severus had had to swallow three more of his ‘notice-me-not' potions and Addy had gone on a second break before it looked like the boy's shift might be coming to an end soon. He was out of potion, and feeling like Potter had ruined his night already, he pulled out his wand to speed things along and perhaps secure his escape through the front door unnoticed since the potion would be wearing off soon anyway. Potter had just brought the man another coffee, one he'd made himself with a lot of caramel and other flavor ruining things in it. Severus enchanted something silently under his breath and a few moments later the man's face began to turn pale and he put his hand up over his mouth.

At a gagging noise, Harry turned around just in time to see the man throw up all over the floor next to his little square table.

"Ugh," the man said, obviously not feeling well. "What did you put in my coffee?"

"I- I'm so sorry," Harry said, a little panic in his voice. "I just started here a couple of weeks ago. I haven't made very many coffees yet."

To Severus' surprise the boy immediately got on his hands and knees with a trash can and towel and began mopping up the sick while the man looked away, obviously embarrassed. When he was done he stood and apologized profusely again.

"Here," Harry said, "have the last pastry. They're really good."

The man eyed the pastry doubtfully. "Did you help make it?"

Harry shook his head and looked embarrassed again as he turned red. "No, I promise. Addy makes them fresh each morning."

He reached out and took the pastry and took a bite out of it before looking as if he was going to be sick and throwing it into the trash can that Harry still held. Severus tried to discern the look that washed over Potter's face as he stared into the trash at the pastry, but decided in the end that it was disappointment. Well, the brat was already getting paid wasn't he?

"Sorry," the man said. "I think I'll just call it a night." He packed up his laptop and hurried out of the cafe. Severus used this opportunity to leave as well, and waited down the street to see if he could follow the boy at a distance to see where he would go. It was nearly midnight and his potion would wear off in fifteen minutes.

Five minutes later, Potter came out of the cafe with his head down and his hands in his pockets. He walked back down the street, and the waitress from the diner was waiting for him it seemed.

"Get fired yet yeh little *chav?"

Potter didn't answer and she shouted at his back, "I better not catch yeh goin' through our rubbish bins again! I know it was you!"

Severus quickened his pace to match Potter's as he ducked into an alley, and was surprised and baffled to find that Potter was going rubbish bin to rubbish bin and looking through each one. He seemed dejected each time he moved on to the next. Finally, after seven, he pulled something out, and Severus squinted from the shadow he stood in to see a hard little bread roll. What in the- he was tempted to walk right up to Potter and risk being seen because he knew the potion would be wearing off any minute now, but a shout at the other end of the dark alley brought his attention now.

"Look! He's back!"

"Scroungin' fer somethin' teh eat yeah?" There were three boys, all on bikes. They all laughed as they rode up to Harry and surrounded him. One of the bikes looked new and Harry wondered if the boy riding it had stolen it.

"What's for supper tonight beggar?" the tallest of the three asked, snatching the roll from him. Knowing Potter, Severus was surprised yet again, this time because he was sure the brat would have pulled out his wand and hexed these Muggle boy's senseless. He'd certainly been caught dueling at school enough times. Potter only stood there however, silent with his chin up.

"Ooh, looks like a feast," the more scrawny of the three said with a cigarette between his lips. Here, lemme add some protein." He took it from his friend and spit on it and the boys laughed again. Harry didn't move.

"Dirt's got protein doesn't it?" The tall boy took it back and threw it on the ground before kicking it across the alley. They laughed again and seeing that they couldn't get a rise out of Harry, rode away, laughing in the distance until they turned a corner. As soon as they were out of sight, Harry hurried over to where the roll had been kicked, and with some difficulty it seemed, stooped down holding his ribs to pick the filthy thing up. That was odd, Severus hadn't seen them hit Potter, and if he had been injured before, Severus hadn't noticed. He'd been intent on other details in the cafe.

Creeping closer in the shadows, Severus straightened as he realized that Potter was struggling with himself as he stared at the roll, shoulders hunched. Potter raised the roll to his lips twice and dropped it before trying in vain to wipe the dirt and spit from it on his shirt.

Feeling a tingle in his finger tips, Severus knew he had exactly three minutes before the potion wore off for good that night. He approached anyway, still in the form of the old man he'd taken hours before.

"Why do you let them do that to you?" he asked.

Harry turned still staring at the roll. "Better not to fight." He sounded tired.

"It looks like you've been fighting."

Severus held in a gasp as Harry suddenly jammed the roll into his mouth and chewed hurriedly, swallowing it almost whole. He gagged once, but held it down. When had he eaten last if he was willing to eat that?

"Haven't been fighting," Harry said. He didn't even look at Severus as he hurried away, obviously ashamed. Severus felt another tingle and knew the potion had left his system. He followed Harry for three more blocks, sticking to the shadows, and just as they were nearing Severus' own street, he paused in the shadow of a tall dark building as Potter hunched over and was sick in someone's flower beds, losing the roll he'd eaten. He shuddered and then finished walking home, almost to Severus' own front door step. He watched as Potter went into the backyard of the house next door. The house the new neighbors had just moved into a few weeks before.

Hurrying into his own house, Severus went to the window to look into the neighbor's backyard, but couldn't see Potter anywhere. Maybe he'd snuck in the back door. He watched for several minutes, but no lights came on inside. What was all that about? What had happened tonight? Severus simply couldn't wrap his mind around it. Obviously the teen hadn't eaten in some time if he was hungry enough to take food from the trash, especially after what the neighborhood riff raff had done to it. And where had the bruises come from? It wouldn't surprise him if the boys on the bikes had done it, but Potter had been insistent at the cafe that they hadn't had anything to do with it. And then he'd been sick after he'd eaten the roll... well, who wouldn't be, it had come from the trash and been spit on after all.

As Severus tried to get to sleep in the early morning hours and failed, unable to slow his mind with the night's events and the caffeine, he had one final question. What was Potter doing there? If he was there, the Dursleys had to be there... his new neighbors... and what would he do now?