The atmosphere was slightly chilly and smelled damp, like they were standing in a vast underground cavern.

“Do you have the key?”

“No. He is right here, just run the identification,” said Severus, gesturing Potter to move forward, a bit impatiently.

“Mr Snape, I would appreciate it if you didn't offer me advice on how to do my job,” the goblin grinned at him toothily. “Mr Potter, please step here for the authentication, then you'll be able to access your vault.”

Severus pursed his lips and added being corrected by a goblin on his Rant of the Century list, while the creature made the boy touch a piece of parchment and went on through the procedure.

Harry, on the other hand, was glad the goblin recognized the professor, because Harry, for his part, had managed to completely forget his name, save for the fact it was kind of weird and had a lot of S'es. Snape, he thought, is it spelled like 'snail' or like 'snap'? He had a suspicion already.

.

Later was such a vague term. Later lasted and lasted for Potter, who was filling the air of Diagon Alley with question after question.

“So, you're the head of one? Do you like it? Do you think I could be there?”

Severus felt momentarily torn between laughing hysterically at the possibility and pinching the bridge of his nose in exhaustion, and so he settled for smirking. “It would be unwise for you to wish that.”

“Why?”

“Your misbehaviour will land you in many a detention. It won't be pleasant. More so, because I try not to affect the general point competition going between the Houses.”

“I will behave, sir! And what's a detention?”

“Completing an assigned task in an assigned time. Usually, writing lines, or doing manual chores.”

“Oh,” the boy waved his hand dismissively, “that's alright then. I'm good with chores. So, do you think I could be chosen for it, sir?”

“What were your grades at primary?”

“Uh, pretty good, I think. I like maths best of all, because it's so easy.” Harry frowned in thought. “Do they sort according to grades at Hogwarts?”

“No, I merely tried to gauge your inclination.” He should have at least half a brain, in all honesty. Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad.

“Oh, I was looking forward to more maths and chemistry, too, the textbooks they had in the library looked interesting; but now I'm just...” he shrugged helplessly. “Stumped, I guess. I'll probably have to catch up with absolutely everyone,” he added in a low voice, totally crestfallen. "Yes, sir, I see how you don't want m--”

Suddenly, a hand grasped his shoulder and Professor leaned in to say quietly “Silence, now. Follow me.”

They ducked into Madam Malkin's just as another pair of a wizard and a boy, fair-haired and glossy-looking, started crossing the street in the shop's general direction. They had a brief conversation near the entrance, as it was easy to see from the shop, and then parted, the boy walking inside determinedly. By that time Severus had handed Harry off to be fitted and glided further into shadows, effectively circumventing Draco on the way out.

.

“There is a boy there who says he'll be sorted into Slytherin, sir. Do you think he might be?”

“Unfortunately,” said Severus absent-mindedly. He was currently contemplating the joy of having Draco sorted into Hufflepuff and never dealing with Lucius again, ever. Alas, wishful thinking was just that – wishful.

Harry noticed the sour man's attitude getting sourer and decided that having an arrogant git – with a high-standing father – for a student sounded about as exciting as having him for a classmate. That is, not at all. He wondered if he could forge an alliance here.

“Now, on the subject of not wanting you in my House.” The boy sighed miserably at the words. “It is not true, least of all not based on you familiarity with wizarding education. All you require to know is: obey school rules; respect your elders; be polite to your classmates; put your first and foremost effort into your studies – that should get you through, Mr. Potter. Your Head of the House is likely to put up some extra guidelines, and that goes to the 'school rules' section.”

Or not. Minerva was awfully lenient when it came to behaviour outside of her class, after all. Severus frowned a bit and continued, lecture-mode.

“As for me, I teach Potions. Do the reading – always, – listen attentively, exhibit utmost concentration when doing practicals — and there will be a lot of practicals.” He frowned again, now at the expression of wonder on the boy's face.

“Ooh! A lot of practicals. Any perks to your house? Extra lab time? Showing us something outside the course?” Harry looked up hopefully.

“Perhaps, if you are doing your coursework diligently and otherwise are on your best behaviour,” Severus mused. In the next moment, realisation dawned, and he felt alarmingly like he was digging his own grave, if this turned out to be something like another copy of the Weasley twin disaster. “If you aren't, the extra lab time will be forced on you and the tasks won't be pleasant at all.”

The boy nodded vigorously under his glare. In his mind, retorts and tubes bubbled with multi-coloured steam, lit from inside with eerie fluorescence. If Severus had any idea of it, he might have noted that Harry was thinking of alchemy, rather than potions. But he didn't, and was deeply puzzled with the enthusiasm.

“And you don't know yet, whether you will like it, in the first place.”

Harry kept nodding, breaking into an uncertain smile.

“So, you don't mind if I end up in Slytherin?”

“No. Not at all,” Severus finally acquainted, “But it might be tough for you.” He wished he could have said he minded, wished he could have said just why and how it was tough, wished he hadn't mentioned Houses at all, and let the boy find out from someone else somehow. The house for him was chiselled on a marble plaque, anyway.

Harry squinted up through the glasses and said: “It's not like anything was ever too easy for me, sir, I don't think I remember it being so. It's alright, I'm not afraid.”

~SS~SS~SS~SS~SS~

Severus strode quickly to McGonagall's desk, withdrawing a folded sheet of paper out of his robes. He stopped directly across from the Deputy Headmistress and slapped the sheet on top of heaped parchment.

“In his own handwriting.”

She lifted her head and blinked tiredly at Severus from under the brim of the hat.

“Oh, you're back. Good. How did it go? And what took you so long?”

“I accompanied him to Diagon Alley, as well. Other things I'm currently in no mood to discuss. Possibly, ever. Deal with them yourself from now on.”

Minerva looked reproachfully at him, as he turned and headed towards the door. “Severus... Surely, there is at least one good thing about young Harry? I cannot believe otherwise.”

The man stopped and glared at her sharply, the blank expression on his face morphing into a horrible crooked smile.

“Of course, there is,” he hissed. “He is not afraid of madmen, because –-”

They both started when someone rapped lightly at the door. The handle began to turn, not waiting for a response, and admitting a customarily cheerful-looking Albus Dumbledore.

“Hello, Minerva. Why, Severus, what an unexpected...”

The Deputy Headmistress glanced at the younger professor. His face was perfectly neutral once again. He nodded briskly at Albus, passing by him towards the door, and was out of it in a span of two seconds.

The headmaster wasn't bothered by the lack of manners, it seemed; as the door closed, he smiled and twinkled at Minerva. She decided not to make an issue out of it, either.

“This year is going to be interesting, isn't it? I'm sure you've run into a trouble or two, already.”

She shrugged. “Every year, Severus is fishing for an increase in his lab budget for books and supplies for the older students. It's no trouble.” This time she might have to concede, actually.

“And what about our new batch of first-years? Because if you don't have all the replies, I was thinking that, perhaps, Hagrid -—”

“I'm not sure what you are talking about, Albus. All of our prospective students are accounted for,” she said, offering him a parchment full of red checkmarks.