A New Place to Stay Chapter 10 - Harry Potter

 Glamoured and on a tight schedule, Harry and Snape head to Gringotts to do what no one has ever let Harry do: learn his inheritance, get a Gringotts card, and take control. A stunned Harry discovers he owns multiple properties, including Number Four, and Snape orders goblins to stop payments to the Dursleys. The day turns practical and healing with eyesight correction at a Diagon Alley clinic, a full wardrobe at Madam Malkin’s, and a quiet Muggle shopping run for toiletries. Dinner back at Prince Manor caps a chapter that blends guardianship, worldbuilding, and the first real taste of freedom. 

Transcript

**Chapter 10: Gringotts, Wizarding World, and Muggle World**

Harry woke up, stretching leisurely and wondering why he felt so good. Remembering the events of yesterday, he sat up abruptly.

Glancing at the time, he nearly swore. Grabbing his clothes, he dashed to the bathroom to wash up.

He couldn't believe he had slept for so long, or rather, all night! It had undoubtedly been the best sleep he had experienced since the dreamless sleeping potion after the Tri-Wizard Tournament or since he had been given potions when Draco attacked him.

Dropping his toiletries on the bed, he hurried down the stairs. He skidded to a stop outside the dining room and walked in calmly, willing away his heavy breathing.

"You made it; good," Severus said simply. He had heard the teenager running along the landing and knew he would arrive in time.

He understood better than to let Harry miss a single meal, especially considering how thin the boy had become. Despite being at Hogwarts all year, Severus was acutely aware that the human body could only endure so much after years of malnutrition, especially when preparing to return to a place with less food.

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, not showing that he was winded as he walked around the table and took his seat. Today, a big bowl of porridge with fresh fruit awaited him.

What he didn’t know was that Snape had anticipated his preference and had requested it specifically. Harry noticed a milkshake on the table, an oddly colored one: chocolate with swirling caramel hues.

He took a cautious sip and instantly loved it. He practically gulped it down, feeling pleasantly full and happy afterward.

"That was lovely, what was it?" Harry asked, his large green eyes regarding Snape without his glasses, which he had forgotten. Snape was struck by how different the teenager looked without them; he resembled his grandfather and mother more than his father.

The hair, no longer obscured by the frames, seemed to frame his face in a way that made him look both younger and somehow more mature at the same time. Severus studied Harry for a moment, his expression thoughtful.

"The doubt may belong to Potter," he mused, "but that face… it does resemble Henry Evans', if I’m not mistaken." 

He then placed a glass in front of Harry. "A nutritious milkshake, Mr.

Potter. The strongest one.

And yes, it surprisingly tastes quite nice. The second-best nutritious potion you can get, however, tastes like spinach or broccoli."

"I like broccoli," Harry replied, diving into his porridge with enthusiasm.

It wasn’t bitter or overly sweet; it was just right—strawberries, bananas, figs, cinnamon, and a hint of sugar all mixed together. Harry frowned at his own thoughts, imagining the three bears sitting beside him, echoing his sentiments.

The porridge filled him up considerably; in fact, he felt fuller than ever before. Strangely, it didn’t feel uncomfortably full, just enough that he was aware of it.

"Finished?" Severus asked after Harry had downed his orange juice. "Yes, sir," Harry answered.

"Polyjuice potion isn't ideal for going to Gringotts, and Glamours aren't very reliable either, but we have no choice but to use them," Severus announced smoothly. "Oh," Harry nodded, a bit stiffly.

Severus smirked wryly. So the boy was aware of what Polyjuice potion was.

It made sense, considering Crouch had been using it and had commented on it. It wouldn’t take long for Harry to connect the dots, even if he had been as daft as Severus had accused him of being on occasion.

"I'm not spending all day shopping, Potter, so you'd best be on your best behavior and quick about it, too. We don’t want to linger, and I certainly don't want you using magic.

They’ll have your signature, no doubt, and will be waiting for you to use it, especially since you've done so in the past," Severus said sternly. "I've only performed underage magic once since starting at Hogwarts, and that was because of Marge—my uncle’s…" Harry began to explain.

“Vernon's sister said my mum had bad blood and that there was something wrong with her. She even compared her to her disgusting puppies.

Vernon told her my mum and dad were just drunk layabouts who got themselves killed in a car crash,” Harry defended himself, his voice filled with fury. “I wasn’t the one who did that hover charm!

I didn’t even learn it in my first year! How was I supposed to know?

Dobby, the Malfoy house-elf, did it to stop me from going back to Hogwarts. He knew what Lucius Malfoy had done and was determined to save me… why he chose me, I’ll never know.”

“And what about the tongue?” Severus demanded smoothly.

“Fred and George dropped one of their sweet tricks on the floor. Dudley was on a diet and couldn’t resist.

He ate it and ended up with a tongue the size of the living room!” Harry shuddered at the thought. “Part of me is so glad I didn’t have to go back this summer.

I know what Vernon is capable of, but Dudley is unpredictable. He doesn’t care if he breaks his bones or if he has chores to do.

In fact, he loves getting me into trouble and takes great delight in watching me get whipped as hard as Vernon can. I’m just thankful that Vernon is so out of shape; otherwise, I have no doubt the beatings would have lasted much longer.”

“I see,” Severus said, reflecting on how much he had misjudged the teenager.

If what Harry was saying was true, then he had only committed one act of accidental magic. And he couldn’t help but feel relieved that it was tied to his mother.

It seemed she wasn’t forgotten by everyone after all. Severus had always hated that Lily seemed to be lost in the entire Boy-Who-Lived narrative.

Here was a boy who clearly loved his mother deeply, emotional enough to blow up Marge Dursley. It was an impressive display of wandless magic.

Accidental magic was something most people could manage. They could make objects disappear or smash things in a fit of anger.

Severus had always known Lily was powerful; he had seen her use her magic to float and even bring dead flowers back to life. If he had known some of the things Harry had accomplished, he would have been shocked to his core.

Apparition, shrinking charms, Reducto curses, vanishing charms, and even color-changing charms, which weren't taught until the seventh year, were all part of Harry's repertoire. The teachers hesitated to teach students such advanced magic for fear it would lead to chaos, including distraction charms that made everyone ignore you or scuttle around you.

Charms that could aid in pranks, like coloring spells, were always reserved for last. "Stand in front of me; we will apply the charms," Severus said abruptly.

"Do try to avoid using names if you can help it. You can call me sir if it comes to that."

"Yes, sir," Harry replied, wondering if he would have called him anything else.

"This is a Portkey, and whatever you do, Potter, do not let it be seen, or they will know. It has the Prince coat of arms on it.

Do you know what that means?" Severus asked, the last part almost dripping with sarcasm. "No, sir," Harry murmured, confusion evident in his voice.

"The Prince name is as well-known as the Potters'. If anyone sees it, it will be automatically connected to me," Severus explained, his tone turning dangerous.

"Oh. I'll be careful, sir," Harry said, taking the Portkey with sweaty palms, looking a bit green around the gills.

Severus wanted to smack himself; of course, the boy would be terrified. After all, the last time he had touched a Portkey, he had witnessed Voldemort's rebirth.

"Listen to me, Potter: it will only take you right back here. I configured it myself, and if I had wanted to send you away, trust me, you would already be gone," Severus said.

He couldn't help himself; sometimes, he had to be cruel to be kind, letting old grudges die hard. Strangely enough, Harry felt a surge of confidence from Severus's words, color returning to his face.

"Okay, let's do it," Harry said, finding comfort in the cold, sarcastic tone. Severus quickly cast a charm over them both.

Although it wasn't his strong suit, he had perfected glamours. This was the only way he could navigate the world without raising suspicion.

It kept his former acquaintances at bay when he ventured out. However, he had never put a glamour on someone else before.

His magic was powerful, but if Potter didn’t want it, breaking through the charm wouldn’t be difficult, leaving the real boy exposed. "Do you need anything else, Potter?

Before we go?" Severus asked smoothly. "No, sir, nothing," Harry murmured, surprisingly excited about the prospect of shopping and visiting Gringotts.

"What about the Triwizard winnings, Potter?" Severus inquired, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Harry suddenly found the floor fascinating, and Severus had to strain to catch his next words.

The revelation left him stunned and baffled, yet a small sense of pride welled up in him; despite his money worries, the boy had chosen to give it away. "I gave my winnings to Fred and George.

I wanted to give it to the Diggorys, but I don't know where they live," Harry admitted sadly. "Despite worrying you wouldn't have enough left to get yourself through Hogwarts?" Severus asked, his voice different from anything Harry had ever heard.

"I didn't want it," Harry insisted, his face contorting in distaste. "Indeed.

Very well, shall we go?" Severus replied coolly. Harry nodded, clutching the Portkey in his pocket, ensuring it was still there.

If anything went wrong, he took comfort in knowing someone cared enough to ensure his safe return. "Cared" might be too strong a word, but at least someone wanted to make sure he was alive and fed.

It was all rather strange for Harry: Snape hated him, the Dursleys hated him... and yet here he was.

Harry thought about how the Dursleys had never shown him any kindness, while Severus had always been there to save him. It felt like a confusing mix of contradictions, and he struggled to come to terms with it.

He could handle hate, but dealing with someone who seemed to despise him yet saved his life repeatedly was a different challenge entirely. Before long, both Severus and Harry apparated outside of Gringotts.

Harry did a double take as he looked at his professor. Blond hair?

Blue eyes? A red t-shirt and—bloody hell!—a pair of jeans and a black cloak?

He had never seen a more absurd sight in his life and had to stifle a laugh at the image of Snape actually wearing such clothes instead of the glamour he could see. "Let's proceed," Severus said, his voice gruffer than usual.

Harry nodded, not wanting to dwell on how different Snape's voice sounded. It didn't surprise him; everyone recognized Severus Snape's distinctive voice.

It was one of the most defining aspects of him, unmistakable and unique. Harry wondered if his grandparents had recognized that voice even when he was a child.

He recalled that it belonged to a poet, if he remembered correctly—and he did, having spent many hours imagining his grandmother writing with such eloquence. He could agree with her on one thing: Snape did indeed have the voice of a poet.

It was just a pity he chose to be a sneering, sarcastic man rather than crafting beautiful verses. "Where is your key?" Severus asked, his tone still different.

"I've never had it… Hagrid got my things in first year, Mrs. Weasley in second, Mr.

Fudge in third, and of course, Mrs. Weasley again this last year," Harry whispered quietly, hoping no one would overhear.

"You idiot! You're not supposed to give your vault key away or let others handle it!" Severus snapped angrily.

Harry shook his head in agitation. "How was I supposed to know?" he cried indignantly as he was propelled forward toward one of the goblin desks.

Severus knew that the goblins could see through all disguises, so he adopted his best teacher's voice and demanded a room and a goblin to assist them. Minutes later, they found themselves in a spacious room, and thankfully, Severus had calmed down.

Honestly, how could Harry be so clueless? Why hadn’t they given the boy his vault key?

Severus ignored the fact that he wouldn’t have entrusted it to an eleven-year-old either. If it had been his responsibility, at least the child would have known it was there.

“Hey, Griphook,” Harry murmured without thinking as the goblin entered through the door. He missed the shocked expressions on both the goblin's and Severus' faces as he curiously surveyed the office.

There were many gold and silver instruments, and marble everywhere; it was a beautiful place. “You serve Mr.

Potter when he comes to the bank?” Severus asked, his voice low and dangerous. Harry sensed that his temper was close to the surface, and he began to feel quite sorry for the goblin, though they were made of stern stuff—or at least they looked it.

“I do,” Griphook acknowledged, his gaze fixed straight up at the intimidating wizard. “Care to enlighten me as to why it wasn’t explained to him how much money he has, and why his inheritance wasn’t discussed with him?” Severus inquired, his silky voice sending shivers down Harry’s back.

He realized that Severus was definitely angry, and oddly enough, he wasn’t mad at Harry. He hadn’t known anything could make Snape angrier than he could.

“I wasn’t given the opportunity; Mr. Hagrid wouldn’t allow it,” Griphook stated without hesitation.

“And you left it at that? You disobeyed Gringotts policy?” Severus asked incredulously.

“I hadn’t been aware it would be the last time I saw Mr. Hagrid,” Griphook replied.

“Potter,” Griphook responded, his eyes betraying a hint of nervousness, even as his face remained impassive. “Then I want it explained to him now,” Severus demanded, narrowing his onyx eyes.

“Yes, sir,” Griphook replied, moving around the desk to sit down. He began rummaging through a massive drawer—one that definitely shouldn’t have fit in that small desk.

Harry almost grinned; he loved magic! After a moment, the goblin pulled out a large folder and placed it on the table, flipping through its contents.

“Let’s see… from the Potters, you have the ancestral Potter manor in England, a house in Godric's Hollow, a seven-bedroom house in Scotland, and another in England, along with a cottage and house in Ireland, and a house in Wales,” Griphook announced, continuing to sift through the property list. “This here is a list of all the transactions you’ve made; this one contains your statements, showing how much you have and the interest you earn in your vaults.

And this shows the contents of all your vaults,” he explained, handing sheets of paper to Harry. “From your mother, you received a house on Privet Drive and a vault,” he continued, passing over a few more sheets.

Harry felt a surge of laughter bubble up inside him: he owned the house on Privet Drive! He had a house, yet had spent years living in a cupboard.

The ironies of life never ceased to amaze him. “How do I own number four, Privet Drive?” Harry asked, his curiosity piqued.

“Your grandmother and grandfather signed it over to your mother, and in turn, you, her son, are next entitled to the house,” Griphook explained. Severus remained silent, intrigued to see if Harry possessed the Slytherin cunning and guts to want them evicted from the house.

If he had owned the house he grew up in, he would have thrown his father out without hesitation. “So, I can throw them out?” Harry asked, his curiosity growing.

“You can, in one year's time, as the contract expires then,” Griphook replied. "Unless they do not adhere to the conditions set forth in that contract," Griphook agreed, then added a qualification.

"Dumbledore wouldn't be happy with that," Harry said with a grin, his green eyes sparkling with glee. Severus noticed once again that Harry wasn’t wearing his glasses.

Perhaps he should mention the corrective surgery available to him. It would be beneficial; after all, glasses could be a hindrance during dueling.

He insisted it had nothing to do with Harry looking too much like James Potter. "Mr.

Potter, you should get yourself a Gringotts card. It works in both worlds," Severus advised smoothly.

"It will save you from having to carry cash and getting it converted." 

"It can be done for you right now, Mr. Potter, if you wish," Griphook offered politely.

"Yes, please," Harry replied eagerly. He would have to ensure it remained hidden from the Dursleys if he ended up back there.

Dumbledore always seemed to get his way, so Harry didn’t even consider trying to resist. "Very well; if you would wait here, I shall see it done," Griphook said, leaving the room as quickly as his small legs could carry him.

"Mr. Potter, I see you don’t have your glasses on," Severus remarked, his tone calculating.

"No, sir; they hurt my eyes worse than not wearing them," Harry admitted. "When was the last time you had your eyes tested?" Severus demanded.

He wondered if Harry’s vision was too poor for corrective surgery, especially if it was deteriorating so quickly. People typically had their eyes tested every two to three years unless they had specific issues like diabetes.

He was puzzled by how Harry turned completely red, as if he was utterly embarrassed. "I’ve never had them tested; my aunt brought me a pair from Mrs.

Mason’s bin," Harry confessed reluctantly. Severus could tell when Harry was lying, so there was no point in pushing further.

He also knew the worst, so what harm could it do to learn this bit of information? Harry narrowed his eyes.

Petunia Dursley was definitely going to get cursed when he got back. Perhaps it was time to test his experimental potion on them, the one he was brewing for the Dark Lord.

He could think of no one better to try it on, and for once, he hoped it would actually work. The Dark Lord wanted a potion that mimicked the effects of the torture curse but without the permanent insanity.

Of course, Severus would never hand it over unless his life depended on it. He knew the irony all too well: it would likely end up being used on him the most.

Those thoughts calmed him down and brought him back to the moment. He noticed Harry staring at the floor, a deep red flush still coloring his cheeks.

“If you wish, there is corrective surgery you can have done. It only takes about ten minutes at most.

It does sting quite a bit, but once it’s over, you would have perfect eyesight and wouldn’t have to worry about glasses or headaches,” Severus said smoothly. “Oh,” Harry replied, trying to suppress the urge to say “wicked,” as Ron usually did when he was excited.

The thought of not having to wear glasses was incredibly relieving. He wondered why no one had ever mentioned this to him before.

Was it simply to keep him looking and acting like James Potter that they hadn’t dared suggest something that could change their image of him? “Here you are, Mr.

Potter. Madam Malkin’s makes some really nice wallets; perhaps you should consider getting one,” Griphook suggested, handing over a gold Gringotts card.

“Thank you, Griphook,” Harry nodded, taking a quick look at the totals sheet and shaking his head. No wonder Snape had laughed at him; he couldn’t possibly spend all that if he tried.

As he reviewed the Vault Contents summary, he noticed that everything from Godric’s Hollow was in a vault that had been opened the night it had happened. “Stop the payments the Dursleys are receiving for their care of Mr.

Potter,” Severus demanded of Griphook. “They are no longer…”

"Responsible for him," Severus said.

"It will be done," Griphook replied immediately. "Can we go to the eye place, please, sir?" Harry asked softly, his voice cautious.

He wasn’t sure how his teacher would react to his question. Snape clearly disliked silence, demanding verbal responses from him at all times.

It was the complete opposite with the Dursleys, who preferred he kept quiet and never asked questions. "Very well, let's go," Severus agreed, already striding toward the shop.

As soon as they entered, Severus declared, "I have a customer here who would like his eyes examined."

"Very well; come in and take a seat," Amy Bizet replied. Harry complied, suddenly feeling a wave of nerves wash over him.

It was strange to find comfort in his teacher’s presence, especially since Snape seemed to despise him. He reminded himself that he shouldn’t feel at ease.

"I'm going to check how bad your eyes are," Amy said softly and professionally. "They need to be better than twenty-five percent for the operation to be effective, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry replied, his voice trembling slightly.

He had to fight the urge to flinch when she raised her wand and positioned it between his eyes. He could feel her magic brushing against them before she withdrew it, and before he knew it, a piece of paper was emerging from her wand.

She hummed and paused a few times before speaking again. "His eyes are quite bad, but the surgery will work," Amy concluded, nodding as her neat bun kept her hair in place.

"Very well," Severus said smoothly. "Now, how will you be paying?

Cash, cheque, or card?" 

"A card," Harry answered, handing over the item almost reluctantly. Thankfully, his name wasn’t printed on the front, or everyone would have known he was there by the time he left the shop.

Once the payment was processed... After the examination went smoothly, Harry was asked to lie back in the chair, but he hesitated.

He hated the unknown, and the thought of being vulnerable while someone did something to him made him uneasy. "Why?" he asked cautiously.

"Don't worry; we'll secure your hands to prevent you from rubbing your eyes. It will only take five minutes," Amy assured him, trying to calm his nerves.

"No, I’m not being restrained!" Harry declared, his voice rising in panic. Severus fought the urge to snap at him, reminding himself to view the situation from the boy's perspective.

He knew that Harry had been bound during Voldemort's resurrection. With a weary sigh, Severus closed his eyes, realizing that caring for a teenage boy was more challenging than he had anticipated.

It didn't help that Harry wasn't truly in the wrong; he had every right to panic at the thought of being restrained. With a resigned grunt, Severus stepped forward and told Amy to proceed, assuring her that he would hold Harry's hands.

Harry's wary green eyes met his, and instead of offering empty reassurances, Severus simply nodded at her, signaling that the spell could be cast. He did grasp Harry's hands, but it was a futile effort, as Harry made no attempt to move.

The only indication of his distress was the way he scrunched his eyes shut. Severus felt a surge of anger at the thought that a fourteen-year-old had endured such torture.

His godson would not escape the consequences; his fifth year would be filled with detentions for what he had suffered. One way or another, Severus was determined to make Harry understand that life as a Death Eater was not meant for him.

"Well, I wish all my patients were like that," Amy remarked. Despite her professionalism, Severus noticed her eyes were wider than usual—she was clearly surprised by the boy's ability to endure pain.

"The sink over there..."

"There is a solution available; wash out the gritty texture you must be feeling," Amy softly instructed. Harry nodded, wincing at the bright light as he opened his eyes.

Once he adjusted, he sighed in relief; the stinging was gone. For the first time in his life, he could truly see the world.

Everything was so clear. He could read every sign and notice every tiny detail.

He couldn’t hide the awe that washed over him; it was the most incredible experience he had ever had. "Thank you very much," Severus said curtly, gesturing for Harry to move along.

Harry nodded, expressing his gratitude before following Severus, making sure he had his card with him. "Thank you for this, Pro...

Sir... Why didn't anyone tell me about it before?

Or perform the spell?" Harry asked as they made their way to Madam Malkin's. "I have no idea.

To perform the spell, you must master it. It's dangerous for amateurs to practice," Severus replied smoothly.

"If someone attempted it without experience, you could end up in severe pain or even be blinded altogether."

Harry's eyes widened at the thought, but he nodded in understanding. By then, they had arrived at Madam Malkin's.

Harry let Severus handle the ordering, unsure of what to do. He ended up with an entirely new wardrobe, though he turned bright red when asked about his preferred underwear.

He missed the amused smirk tugging at the corners of Severus’ mouth as the teacher suppressed an eye roll—teenagers, honestly. "I, um...

don't care; I'll take some of each," Harry admitted, trying to will the flush away. It wasn't long before he had a whole array of clothes, underwear, shoes, boots...

he even got a dragon-hide wallet. The only thing he lacked was casual wear; Madam Malkin's only had wizarding clothes suitable for school and special events.

The thought of attending a new Yule Ball sent a shudder down his spine. had enough to last him a lifetime, and wizards lived longer than Muggles.

"Would you like your purchases shrunk?" Madam Malkin asked as she handed Harry his card back. He had taken the wallet out of its packaging to keep it from getting shrunk with the rest of his items.

He slipped the card into the wallet; despite its elegance, it felt awfully empty, resting alone in its pouch. Shrugging, he tucked the wallet into his pocket, feeling a sense of smug satisfaction that he couldn't quite explain.

"Yes," Severus replied curtly. He didn't want to make the teenager carry around more than necessary; Harry already looked fragile, as if a gentle breeze could knock him over.

Severus had started him on nutritious milkshakes, ensuring he received plenty of protein to help him bulk up. It was the kind of high-protein diet that bodybuilders often used, and it was exactly what Harry needed.

They made their way to a café, where Severus ordered for both of them—he chose a regular lunch for himself and a fish dish for Harry. Fish, meat, and dairy were all rich in protein, and he added a big glass of milk to the order.

He noticed Harry's confusion but decided against explaining his concerns. Hopefully, by the end of summer, Harry would have gained enough weight to reach a normal state for a fourteen-year-old.

Unfortunately, even with Snape's potions, Harry would never reach his intended height, but they could at least try. It amazed Severus that people saw a hero when they looked at the scrawny boy; even his father hadn’t been that small.

Harry was surprised when Snape ordered for him, but he was even more surprised that his teacher had taken the time to stop for lunch at all. Still, he couldn’t deny that the fish was delicious and filled him up nicely.

He didn’t have fish very often, and he quite liked it, although he left the tail end on his plate after discovering a small bone. "Finished?" Severus asked once it was clear that Harry was done.

Severus nodded, and before long, they were apparating to the Muggle world. Harry was greatly surprised by this, but then he remembered what Snape had told him: his father had been a Muggle and had obviously lived in the Muggle world until he was at least seventeen.

It wasn't long before Harry found himself shopping for a whole new wardrobe. This time, he focused on everyday clothes—jeans and jogging trousers.

He even picked out a few pairs of combat trousers that he liked, especially the khaki-colored ones. The colors Harry chose actually surprised the Potions teacher.

He also grabbed a pair of chinos, some turn-up shorts, and trousers in various shades. Once everything was paid for, Severus began searching for a discreet spot to apparate from, mindful of avoiding any prying eyes or potential collisions.

Apparating had become more challenging lately due to advanced Muggle technology and the omnipresent CCTV—something they never covered in Muggle Studies. "Sir?

Can I go into Boots to get some toiletries? I've, um, run out," Harry asked, glancing at his teacher with a hint of concern.

He knew he was pushing his luck by asking so much, but he genuinely needed new supplies and wasn't trying to be a bother. Severus noticed the worry shining through Harry's fixed green eyes and felt a pang of sadness for reasons he couldn't quite define.

Was Harry so beaten down that he hesitated to ask even the simplest questions? Or was it just because he was with Severus?

He needed to uncover just how deeply the Dursleys had damaged Harry. "Of course, come along," Severus replied, masking his exasperation.

They quickly entered the shop and began browsing. Harry clutched a basket, filling it with essentials: a new shaver, razors, shaving cream, three tins of deodorant, a toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, two bottles of shower gel, two bottles of shampoo and conditioner, and a new face cloth.

He didn't even roll his eyes when the…

Harry placed Muggle sweets and crisps into his basket, patiently waiting at the side for Severus to pay for everything. He couldn't quite understand why he had chosen Muggle toiletries; after all, the wizarding world had far superior products that lasted ten times longer.

"Is there anything else you need?" Severus asked, almost adding "Mr. Potter" at the end but catching himself just in time.

Who knew who might be lurking around? Call him paranoid, but he preferred being cautious over taking unnecessary risks.

As a spy, it was his job to be vigilant. He sensed the Dark Lord was currently too weak to pose a real threat, but the Death Eaters could still be ordered to act.

It seemed the Dark Lord was keeping a low profile, likely trying to avoid drawing attention to his return. Severus couldn't fathom how anyone would explain the supposed demise of Harry Potter.

Thankfully, that wasn't the case. He shook off his wandering thoughts, his keen eyes scanning the surroundings.

"No, sir, thank you, sir," Harry replied quickly, eager to show his appreciation. He had never felt this carefree before, even in Severus's company.

The simple freedom of spending money was exhilarating, and he could have indulged in it for days. Yet, Harry wasn't one to squander his funds; he bought only what he needed and nothing more.

"Then let's get back and see what's for dinner," Severus grunted, feeling the pangs of hunger as dusk began to settle in. Soon enough, they found a deserted alleyway and apparated into Prince Manor without drawing any attention.

Severus unshrunk their purchases and levitated them to Harry's room. "Go shower, change, and put everything away, then come down for dinner.

Don't worry about the time; it can wait—at least for today," Severus warned. Harry nodded eagerly, already bounding up to his room.

Meanwhile, Severus headed off to check on his guests. The rats had stopped moving, their beady eyes watching him warily.

The skinniest of the bunch let out a screech as soon as it spotted Severus; it was fortunate he could tell them apart. He cast a pain curse at the creature—not an unforgivable one, of course; he had no desire to end up in Azkaban.

This would be painful, but it would also provide him with some satisfaction. After everything that had happened today—Harry's poor eyesight, the fact that he hadn't had his eyes tested or owned a pair of glasses, his delight in buying something, and the joy of having clothes that were his own—had struck a chord with Severus.

Perhaps it was because he understood the teenager's feelings all too well. He had once been in that position himself.

After finally passing his Potions Mastery and starting to earn a decent income, he had also come into the Prince fortune. The thrill of being able to purchase something was contagious; seeing the green-eyed boy so happy had almost rekindled that feeling in him.

Vernon and Dudley squealed and backed away as far as they could from him and his wand. Leaving the mother of the rats to squirm in pain, he continued to cast different spells for at least twenty minutes before finally stopping.

The room fell into a deadly silence, as if everything around him was afraid to breathe, fearing the consequences. Once he confirmed that Tuney was still alive, he turned and left abruptly, feeling a sense of relief wash over him.

Dinner for Harry consisted of steak, eggs, and a few vegetables—foods that were good for building muscle. Harry thought it was rather odd.

Who wouldn't? Steak and eggs weren’t exactly a common pairing, but he kept that thought to himself.

As usual, he didn’t go hungry; the meal filled him up, and the milkshake was even more satisfying. Dessert was low-fat yogurt with fresh fruit—he devoured two bowlfuls, unable to get enough of it.

Surprisingly, he felt pleasantly full and happy, though also exhausted after a long day of shopping.