Vice versa (Harry Potter)

"Not this again!" Snape said as he opened the door to the insistent knocking.

"Good morning, sir!" Potter greeted cheerfully, dressed inexplicably in a robe. "May I come in?"

"If I say 'no,' you'll sneak in through the chimney, dig a tunnel, or slip in through the sewers," Snape snapped. "Come in. Are you alone?"

"Today, yes," Harry replied curtly. "May I ask for your help with a delicate matter, sir? It's about the wizarding world, just so you know."

"Why me?"

"Because there's no one else, sir," he said.

"You have a Head of House. Wait until the school year starts and—"

"She knows nothing of my affairs, sir. At all. And there's no time to wait."

"Go to the Headmaster."

"I don't want to," Potter replied so grimly that Snape involuntarily looked at him. "I don't want him to know about this."

"Really, Mr. Potter?" the professor sneered. "Secrets from the Headmaster? And what if I go and inform him immediately?"

"But you don't even know the matter yet, sir!" Harry grinned wickedly. "What would you report?"

"Your blatant audacity," Snape grumbled. "Out with it, or do you expect me to sit here with you until midnight?"

 Harry hesitated.

"I urgently need to go to Gringotts," he said seriously. "To the nearest branch."

 Snape choked on his words.

"Why, may I ask?"

"I need money," the boy replied with disarming simplicity. "Desperately!"

"Don't lie to me, Potter!" Snape barked. "Why do you need to go to Gringotts?"

"I want to claim what's rightfully mine by inheritance," Harry said seriously. "Right now, someone else controls it, and I don't like that."

"And you, of course, will handle your inheritance better than an adult?"

"Why would I manage it? Let it sit there, earning interest. All I need is a few pounds for small indulgences..."

"Potter, stop playing the fool!" the professor snapped, losing patience. "You're clearly up to something!"

"Yes," Harry admitted honestly. "But I won't say what yet. I can tell you this much—it will be an unpleasant surprise for many. One problem, sir: during the holidays, I can't reach the wizarding world, and during the school year, I can't leave Hogwarts. Let's make a deal!"

"What kind of deal?" Snape groaned.

"I'll show you where that big shop is where I ordered books, and you'll escort me to Gringotts. Once there, you can stand behind me for all I care!"

"You're insufferable, Potter..."

"I know. I've been hearing that since childhood. I couldn't let Aunt Petunia's expectations down! So, what do you say?" Harry pushed his glasses to the tip of his nose and looked at Snape with green eyes. The professor could never resist that look, much to the brat's advantage.

"Fine," the professor grumbled. "But I will be with you constantly. I'm responsible for you... ahem..."

"No problem, sir, as I said! But I have one tiny condition..."

"Here we go... What now, Potter?"

"Can we bring my friend along?"

"That Muggle, of course? What's his name? Jerry?"

"Terry! We grew up together, and his father works in a bank. He's dying to see how goblins run things..." Harry paused and added seriously, "No need to Obliviate him. He knows how to keep quiet. Besides, who would believe him if he said anything?"

"Merlin's... Merlin's beard!" Snape caught himself. "Fine! If the goblins allow Muggles in..."

"Who's going to tell them he's a Muggle?" Potter smirked.

"When?" the professor ground out. He was going to catch it from the Headmaster, but... it wouldn't be the first time.

"What time does Gringotts close?" Harry asked briskly.

"It's open 24 hours."

"Then let's go now!"

"Comb your hair, Potter," Snape said disdainfully. "Make yourself presentable. I hope you have a decent robe and not this monstrosity?"

"Of course I do. But why get it dirty?" Harry shrugged. "I always roll up the sleeves to keep them clean anyway, so it doesn't matter if they're short or long. Last year's will do!"

"Put on a new one. And something decent underneath..." The professor gave a pointed look at the frayed cuffs of Harry's jeans and the battered sneakers with mismatched laces poking out from under his too-short robe. "Do you even own proper clothes?"

"Yeah, Aunt Petunia randomly bought me a nice suit. If it fits, I'll wear it..." Harry looked at his own long, gangly arms.

"What about Transfiguration, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked acidly.

"Acceptable," Harry muttered. "But I still can't do anything useful with this twig you call a wand... By the way, this is for you."

"You're joking?!"

 A bottle with a picture of a horse appeared on the table.

"No. It's from my friend's girlfriend. She's into equestrian sports. You see, horses can't be washed with chemicals, so their shampoos and conditioners are all-natural. I thought it might suit you too..." Harry hunched his shoulders. "Or you could analyze the ingredients—it's interesting, right?"

"Fascinating!" the professor hissed. "Get out! I'll pick you up tomorrow at nine sharp."

 "He's definitely messing with me," Snape thought when Potter vanished. He looked at the bottle and added, "Although, I am curious... what's in this stuff?"

*

At five to nine, Harry, dressed in his best robes and polished shoes, was pacing nervously by the gate, filled with ominous forebodings. Perhaps the horse shampoo had been overkill... or not? Beside him stood Terry, utterly calm and looking rather amusing in Harry's last year's robes.

 "Are you ready, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked grimly, appearing out of nowhere. "A rare display of punctuality..."

 "Good morning, sir!" the boys chorused unevenly.

 "Your hand," Snape commanded Harry. "Ready? Mr. Higgs, bear in mind that Apparition, especially the first time, and especially for a Muggle, is a deeply unpleasant experience. Have you had breakfast?"

 "Of course!" Terry replied cheerfully, his blue eyes sparkling.

 Snape's black eyes sparkled back, equally cheerfully.

 "Very well then..." he drawled, and everything spun...

..."What a disgusting experience!" Harry said, catching his breath. "Good thing I didn't eat!"

 "Wise decision."

 "I just didn't have time... Is it always this awful, sir?"

 "The first time, yes."

 "Wow, it's just like roller coasters!" Terry exclaimed, wide-eyed. Harry shot him a reproachful glance, while Snape simply shook his head.

 "Here is Gringotts," Snape said. "Go do what you need to. I'll merely observe."

 Terry's eyes lit up again...

..."What do the gentlemen require?" rasped a goblin in a fine suit.

 "Good day, sir," Harry said with a bow, having spent almost a day poring over books on what was acceptable behavior among goblins, what was considered ignorance, and what was outright offensive. Terry followed suit, while Snape limited himself to a nod. "Could you please direct me to someone who can confirm my rights to my inheritance?"

 The goblin grumbled, decided his honor hadn't been offended, and replied quite amiably:

 "Approach that clerk in the green suit; it's their area."

 "Thank you very much," Harry said politely and headed in the indicated direction. There, the ritual repeated, only this time the goblin requested the claimant's full name.

 "Harold James Potter," Harry answered clearly.

 The goblin buried himself in an enormous book, quickly resurfaced, and said:

 "However, Mr. Potter, you are a minor; your assets are managed by your magical guardian."

 "May I know their name, sir?" Harry asked, though he already knew.

 "Certainly. Albus Dumbledore, a most esteemed wizard..." Judging by the goblin's expression, he might have added something, but chose not to.

 "Sir, could I renounce this guardianship?"

 "You could, Mr. Potter," the goblin replied immediately. "You do have a godfather, and the first right to manage your funds belongs to him."

 "A godfather?" Harry stared at Terry, then at Snape in astonishment. The latter acted as if it had nothing to do with him.

 "Indeed, Mr. Potter, a godfather. Sirius Orion Black. However, since he is currently in Azkaban, the aforementioned wizard took over your affairs."

 "Right!" Harry processed the news about his godfather (Snape could have told him, the git!) and collected himself. "I repeat, sir, can I renounce Albus Dumbledore's guardianship? I understand about the godfather, but this man isn't even a relative!"

 "An interesting question..." The goblin chewed on his lower lip. "I repeat—you can."

 He waited as Harry and Terry exchanged triumphant looks, then added:

 "But only if an adult, competent wizard assumes guardianship, and you acknowledge it."

 "Any adult wizard?"

 "Precisely."

 Harry looked at Snape, who stubbornly stared off into the distance.

 "Professor..." Harry called quietly. "Could you? I don't know anyone decent!"

 "No," Snape snapped sharply. "I am not eligible."

 Terry, scratching his head, suddenly interrupted, breaking all etiquette:

 "Sir goblin," he said, "forgive me if I'm being rude, but I grew up among Muggles and know nothing of your customs..."

 The goblin grunted, frowned, but remained silent.

 "I just wanted to ask: does the guardian have to be a wizard?"

 "Yes," the goblin replied curtly.

 "Well, that's a shame; my dad would give anything to study your system..." Terry muttered.

 "I knew you appreciated me," Harry grumbled, scratching his head and attempting another angle: "What if I reject one guardianship but accept no other?"

 "Then your affairs will be managed by the bank," the goblin grinned toothily.

 "And what happens then?"

 "You will still be unable to spend the principal; the bank will manage it as it sees fit..."

 "Invest it," Terry whispered. "Money shouldn't sit idle!"

 "I see the young man knows a thing or two," the goblin snorted. "Correct, we would invest the funds, and rest assured, the interest would be significant. You would receive a monthly allowance of no less than..." He flipped through a tome. "No less than two hundred Galleons. If you need a larger sum, you must personally visit a Gringotts branch and submit a written request stating the purpose."

 "Wait," Harry raised his hand. "So if I want to buy my Muggle uncle a new car, I could do that?"

 "Yes, but you must detail which car, and our experts will compare Muggle market prices to ensure you're not inflating the cost for personal gain, and then make a decision. However, if you decide to purchase a new home for your family, the procedure will be much more complex..."

 "We don't need a house; it was just an example!" Harry sighed. "What if I need money for surgery?"

 "Same process," the goblin shrugged. "But do notify us in advance. Large sums are difficult to convert into those Muggle pounds."

 At the word surgery, Snape twitched and gave Harry a suspicious look. The boy appeared disgustingly healthy.

 "I just really want to get rid of this," Harry muttered, clicking his glasses frame. Snape didn't understand. "And when I come of age..."

 "You'll be able to spend your money as you see fit."

 Harry exchanged glances with Terry and decisively said:

 "I agree. What do I need to sign?"

 "First, you need to pass an inheritance test," the goblin reminded. "A drop of blood... Oh, of course... Congratulations, the test is successful. Now the renunciation form... Asset transfer agreement... Contract..."

 "Read everything," Terry warned, looking over Harry's shoulder. "Especially the fine print. My dad always says... Wow, look at those interest rates! Sir! That's robbery!" He glared at the goblin. "Sorry, but Harry's not even twelve, and in five years you'll profit from his capital like that!"

 "And what rate do you suggest, young man?" the goblin grinned.

 Terry named a figure. The goblin grinned wider.

 "Don't be ridiculous. Who works for that rate these days?"

 "For money you didn't earn!" Terry retorted, squaring his shoulders. "They can sit and gather dust for all it matters!"

 A brief negotiation ensued, which Harry and Snape observed with growing amazement. It was hard to imagine Terry having such talents at his age, and the goblin seemed to reach the same conclusion as they finally struck a deal.

 "Your father clearly knows his trade," the goblin remarked.

 "He's been in banking for over twenty years," Terry sighed. "Climbing from a simple clerk to deputy manager."

 "Quite a feat for a Muggle," the goblin said approvingly. "All done? Sign here and here. And here again. Another drop of blood, please... Congratulations, Mr. Potter. You may now use your inheritance, albeit in a limited capacity, hehe..."

 "Also, please prepare a request for this sum in pounds; I'll draft the justification now," Harry said. "Ugh, Dumbledore's bound to find out..."

 "He'll kill me," Snape thought but didn't flinch.

 "Of course, the moment he tries to access your vault," the goblin chuckled. "Don't worry, we safeguard what's entrusted to us, Mr. Potter! Write your request."

 "Thank you..." Harry mumbled, signing yet another form. "How do I exchange Galleons for pounds? And how will I get my monthly allowance if I can't leave Hogwarts and..." He glanced at the statue-like Snape, "I'm unlikely to have a chaperone?"

A fierce bargaining ensued for the enchanted wallet that replenished itself with an agreed amount every month and could convert its contents into pounds if turned inside out. Admittedly, the exchange rate on the return flip might vary slightly, but at that point, the goblins would shrug, and even Terry had waved off the minor losses.

"Is that all?" Harry exhaled as they exited the bank. "I feel like a squeezed lemon!"

 "You wouldn't say no to munching on a couple, though, would you?" Terry nudged him with his elbow. "Glad you brought me! First, it's insanely interesting, and second, you'd have missed so much… I mean, my dad always brings work documents home on weekends, so I've known the ropes for ages, but you lot are so clueless! Anyway, we're finally done, right?"

 "Are you?" came a cold voice from above. Both boys turned to see Professor Snape. "Are you certain? I've wasted several hours in that cursed bank of yours!"

 "Well, who could've guessed it'd take so long…" Harry instinctively ducked.

 "Anyway," Snape continued in the same tone, "someone promised me a visit to a large bookstore, did they not?"

 "Yes, sir!" Terry replied cheerfully. "But we'll need to get to Muggle London. Uh, will you be going like… that?"

 In response, the professor removed his cloak, revealing a frock coat underneath, and slung it over his arm. Now it looked like a light summer coat.

 "Conservative," Harry commented, also shedding his cloak. "Now we look like a family of Mormons."

 "Yeah, a Mormon, sure," Terry snorted. "With that hairstyle!"

 "Are you done?" Snape asked with infinite patience. "Take my hands. It's best to enter the Muggle world directly from here."

 "Yeah, so we don't show up at the Leaky Cauldron," Harry nodded. "Come on, Terry, give me your paw…"

"So, where to next?" the professor asked as they found themselves on a busy London street.

 "Just a moment, let me get my bearings…" Harry squinted at the signs. "Okay, we need the Tube, two stops, right, Terry? Then a short walk."

To Harry's disappointment, the Tube neither frightened nor amazed Snape; after all, he hadn't grown up in the magical world, Harry reminded himself.

 "There," Terry pointed at a glittering building full of windows. "That's where we're going."

 "Whoa…" Harry gaped at the endless rows of shelves. "You could get lost in here!"

 "Not really, there are signs and a map," his friend chuckled. "Sir, I think you'll need the section on the second floor. See? Hall 15—it's got pharmacology, and nearby are botany, zoology, and all sorts of related stuff…"

 "Thank you," Snape replied curtly. "And you, boys?"

 "We'll head over here, if you don't mind," Harry pointed at the map. "Fiction. Sci-fi and all that… Hogwarts doesn't exactly stock anything fun!"

 "Very well," the professor nodded graciously. "But don't even think about leaving here without me."

 "Wouldn't dream of it," Harry promised. "We'll find you once we've picked out something to read…"

"Honestly," Terry remarked when they found Snape, "we're not getting him out of here before closing."

 The professor had buried his long nose in yet another hefty tome, struggling to balance about ten others on his arm.

 "Sir, here's a cart," Harry said, relieving him of the books. "It's easier this way—you'll drop them otherwise."

 "Yes, yes," Snape murmured absently, then blinked and looked at the boys. "I seem to have gotten carried away."

 "That's putting it mildly," Terry snorted.

Snape sorted through the books, frowned, hesitated, then looked at Harry and reluctantly admitted:

 "I hate to say this, Potter, but I doubt I have enough funds for all this…"

 "No problem, sir," Harry replied, tucking a few brightly colored volumes under his arm. "But on one condition!"

 "What condition?"

 "Let's grab something to eat, yeah? I haven't even had breakfast!"

 "Oh, and there's a McDonald's nearby," Terry chimed in.

 "Fine," Snape agreed, willing to endure even a Muggle fast-food joint for the sake of his books. "Let's go."

 The friends exchanged triumphant looks.

"You're telling me you'll eat all that?" Snape asked, eyeing the trays piled high with food.

 "Yep!" Both boys answered enthusiastically.

 "Mmm, cheeseburger!" Harry groaned, sinking his teeth into a suspicious-looking bun with a patty.

 "Fries…" Terry echoed, devouring his portion.

 "Coke!" Harry continued and offered Snape a cup. "Try it, sir. We got you a small one."

 "No, thank you."

 "Aw, come on! It's no worse than butterbeer!"

 "Ugh…" Snape muttered after a sip. "Bring me a sample later, Potter. I'm curious about the exact chemicals you're poisoning yourselves with."

 "Will do, sir! Want some fries?"

 "No, thanks. But tell me, Potter…" Snape squinted, "what's this about a procedure?"

 "It's simple, sir," Harry replied earnestly. "I'm sick of wearing glasses. Muggles now have laser vision correction. One zap and it's done. I've already had the preliminary exam; the only issue was money because it's not cheap… Well, now it's sorted. By September, I'll have eagle-eyed vision!"

 "You'll still need glasses," Terry noted. "For disguise."

 "Yeah, but if they get broken, at least I'll see who I'm punching back!" Harry grinned.

 "Is it safe?" the professor asked.

 "Sure. Just temporary restrictions on heavy exercise," Harry sighed wistfully, "and physical activity in general. Plus, I'll need to read less for a while…"

 "What a blessing!" Snape couldn't help himself.

 "Exactly!" Harry beamed. "Time for more practice, right, sir?"

 Terry couldn't suppress a giggle.

 "You're monstrous, Potter," Snape said with a sigh. "Are you done eating? Let's go—I still need to get you home!"

 "Er…" Harry hesitated. "Better take the bus, sir. Apparating on a full stomach might not be the best idea for me!"

 "Fine," Snape agreed. "In that case, I sincerely hope not to see you again until autumn."

 "As you wish, sir! And thanks for your help!"

 "You're welcome, Potter," Snape replied grimly before vanishing.

Harry turned to Terry.

 "Well?"

 "What?" Terry asked nonchalantly, swinging a bag of books. "You really are like a leech—once you latch on, you don't let go. But if he agreed to help you with something like this… Considering the headmaster will find out, and both of you will catch hell for it…"

 "I've always known he secretly adores me," Harry said with a wide grin.

 "Yeah, I wouldn't go that far… He worries about you, sure, but also wants to kill you half the time."

 "That's normal," Harry chuckled. "Let's go home, you fruit fly!"

 "Let's go, you glutton! By the way, when you asked your uncle to book the surgery, did you already know the goblin deal would work out?"

 "Nope," Harry grinned brightly, pulling an orange from his pocket and starting to peel it. "I was just hoping. Worst case, I'd have borrowed the money from you lot. You wouldn't have said no, would you?"

 "My aunt would've killed you later."

 "That'd be later! Oh, there's our bus! Let's go!"