"Okay, professor. What did you want to give me?" Harry asked, a little uncertainly.
"This," he answered, holding out a simple, silver chain necklace.
"What is it, sir? I mean, does it do anything?"
Severus gave a small smile. The boy was learning quickly.
"It will alert me if you are in danger and notify me of your location should such a situation arise."
"Oh. Well, I suppose that's a good idea," Harry said, taking the necklace. "Um, I assume this will be just like the holsters?"
"Yes, keep it on all the time. You are also the only person who can remove it, or lift it even, once you have it latched."
"Lift it?"
"You wouldn't want someone to choke you with it, would you?"
Harry quickly shook his head no, recalling how often Dudley pulled the back of his shirt when he managed to catch him and how hard it was to breathe when the cloth of his shirt pulled taut against his throat. He'd rather be kicked by Dudley than have his shirt pulled like that again, but he would rather Dudley grab his shirt than Uncle Vernon. Harry unconsciously put his little hand to his throat, gently touching his pale skin. Severus' eyes narrowed a bit, but didn't say anything about it.
"Remember you cannot do magic outside of school, unless your life is in danger, but that doesn't mean you can't read about it," Severus said, deciding the conversation needed to move onto less troubling things.
"Yes, sir. I will read everything I can."
"Very good. It would also be beneficial for you to practice using your quill. After you have read a chapter, summarize it on parchment. I find that muggleborn students, or students from the muggle world, have a hard time writing well initially. Which is unfortunate for them, as I count off for chicken scratch and ink covered assignments. If you want to show me you deserve an E or an O, or even an A, I have to actually be able to read your writing."
"I understand, sir, but . . ." Harry paused, organizing his thoughts. "I don't know the grading scale. I should have asked earlier, sorry."
"You are forgiven, Mr. Potter," he answered lightly. "The scale, from lowest to highest, is: T-Troll, D-Dreadful, P-Poor, A-Acceptable, E-Exceeds Expectations, and O-Outstanding."
Harry nodded as Severus glanced around the little room again. It would be a Spartan existence for Harry before school started, but it was better than the cupboard life he had just left. Severus thought about casting a few charms to improve the items in the room, but he settled for a more practical route.
Waving his wand about, the potions master silently cast reparo. He was quickly rewarded by an amazed gasp from Harry as the rickety old bed leveled out, the desk regained its original finish, the leg of the desk chair straightened, and a few other smaller things repaired themselves. The room was still bleak, but it was no longer pathetic.
"Wow, thanks professor!" Harry exclaimed. "That was the most wicked thing I've ever seen!"
"You're gushing again, Mr. Potter," he warned, though the faint smile softened the harshness in his voice. "But you're welcome."
Harry smiled sheepishly.
"Do you have any other questions before I leave?" Severus asked as he pulled out the train ticket and handed it to him.
"Where is this platform nine and three-quarters?" Harry asked, reading the elaborate ticket and tilting his head at the three-quarters bit.
"It is beyond the barrier between platforms nine and ten. When you get to King's Cross railway station, you simply walk into the wall between nine and ten. The wall is an illusion, so simply walk through it. It will take you to Hogwarts Express."
"Okay," Harry said, trying not to sound disbelieving.
"Go early so you can get a good seat and avoid the crowds."
"Yes, sir." Harry straightened his back some, standing a little taller. He had no further questions and was letting the professor know he could leave. "Thank you, Professor," he sincerely thanked.
Severus gave a brief nod, acknowledging his thanks and respectful dismissal. "I will see you on September 1st, Mr. Potter. Expect the parselmagic book and those potions in a few hours. If you have any concerns with anything, send a letter with your owl to me. She'll find me."
Harry nodded, feeling a little uncertain with what he should do now that the professor was leaving. Should he walk him to the front door?
"I will walk myself out. I don't believe your aunt and uncle will mind you staying up here until dinner," he said.
"Alright, sir. Good bye, and thanks again."
Severus waved off his thanks as he stepped out from the room. "Until September, Mr. Potter." With that, he shut the bedroom door and headed back down to the Dursleys.
After a quick statement to Vernon, informing him he would take Harry to King's Cross station on September 1st whenever Harry said he wished to leave, the dark robed potions master finally headed out — to the relief of the Dursleys.
Severus knew there would be repercussions he would have to face for going to Diagon Alley and involving himself with Harry as he had. So when a house elf popped before him the moment he flooed into his quarters from Hogsmeade, he had not been surprised.
"Master Severus Snape sir, Headmaster Dumbledore sir asks for yous to report to his office."
"Of course," he answered silkily. "I will arrive in a moment."
With a bow, the Hogwarts elf popped away.
Severus hurried to his potions shelf and pulled the nutrient potions for Harry before summoning the parselmagic book he had promised him.
"Mittens," he called softly.
-Pop-
"Yes, master?" she asked as Severus jotted down a note.
Mittens was a tiny house elf who had, for whatever reason, attached herself to Severus. She had been a Hogwarts elf, but soon after Severus had become a professor, she decided to serve him and become his personal elf.
"Put these items in a box and attach the note to it. Then take the package to Fury and have him deliver it to Harry Potter in Surrey," he said, handing her the items.