Harry managed not to gape in amazement as the brick wall turned into an archway, revealing the twisted cobbled street behind it. It was a close call though.

"Welcome," said Snape, "to Diagon Alley." Harry was startled by the man's tone, which sounded genuinely welcoming. He was fairly well convinced at this point that Snape was actually a good person, but the man tended to come at it sideways and cover it up with snark and bluster. It was completely beyond Harry why the Professor wanted to be thought of as mean, but there it was. Turning to look up at Snape he was further shocked to see the tail-end of a real smile on the man's face. And that's what cinched in for Harry; today was his best day ever. And things were only looking up from here.

As they walked down the street Harry found himself wishing he had about eight more eyes (though hopefully ones with better vision than his current two, he didn't think he had space for five pairs of glasses). Everything seemed completely new and exciting to Harry, he couldn't help slowing down as he turned his head this way and that, trying to see it all at once.

"Don't dawdle," came Snape's voice, and Harry was surprised to find he had fallen a good bit behind the man in his distraction. "There will be time to look at the shops after we go to Gringotts."

Harry's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Why do we need to go to the bank again sir?"

"All we have right now is Muggle money; we need to exchange it for wizarding money. Or has it escaped your notice that these are not Muggle shops?"

"No sir," responded Harry. Snape did have a point, but Harry did not particularly want to go to another bank, the first one had been boring enough. Still, Harry thought as he trotted alongside the Professor, casting surreptitious glances at the shops, a magical bank was bound to be more interesting than a normal one.

Finally Snape turned up the steps of what Harry assumed was Gringotts. It certainly looked more impressive than a Muggle bank, a towering white building with burnished bronze doors. Harry barely noticed this, though, as he was too busy looking at the very short (shorter than Harry!) swarthy skinned creature of some sort standing in front of the bank.

"You may not have seen a goblin before, but that's no excuse for gawking," said Snape, sounding quite displeased with Harry's behavior.

Abashed Harry quickly dropped his eyes. Then a thought occurred to him, and he looked back at the goblin. "I'm sorry for staring at you sir." The goblin merely sneered in response, before giving a mocking sort of bow as they walked inside. But Harry thought he caught a glint of approval in the Professor's eyes, which was good enough for him. Besides, while the goblin's sneer was better than Aunt Petunia's, it was nowhere near as impressive as one of Snape's sneers.

Past the bronze doors were a set of silver doors with an inscription of sorts on them. Harry didn't have a chance to read it, though, before Snape blew through them, mumbling something about melodramatics. Walking through this second set of doors led them to a large marble hall, with numerous goblins working behind a long counter, and others leading people in and out of the many doors that branched off the main room. Snape directed the two of them to a free goblin and set the fairly substantial pile of money they had gotten at the other bank that morning on the counter. "We need to get this currency exchanged."

The goblin eyed the pile for a moment before responding, "Very well sir." He then began meticulously counting each note, which Harry was disappointed to find was exactly as boring as it had been at the Muggle bank. Instead he opted to look around the room, noticing in particular the surprising number of people who looked slightly nauseated, and the goblin on their right, who was weighing a pile of rubies that Harry thought might be as big as his fist. Finally the goblin helping them finished, handing Snape a large sack filled with coins.

Eager to leave and go check out some more of Diagon Alley, Harry happily followed Snape away from the counter, but was surprised to be led, not out the front doors, but off to the side, out of the way of most of the traffic. Confused, Harry looked on as Snape pulled another bag out of the pocket of his robes, and proceeded to put some of the smaller silver and bronze coins inside of it. He then held the bag put to Harry, and when Harry made no move to take it, said, "You are familiar with the concept of pocket money, correct? Since I highly doubt your relatives ever saw fit to give you any I took the liberty of budgeting some into the cheque I wrote for your school supplies." Slowly Harry reached up and took the bag. Sure, he had seen Dudley get a 5 pound note whenever he wanted one, but Harry could never remember getting so much as a penny of his own money. Therefore he hardly thought he could be blamed for not knowing what to say he was given a bagful of money to spend however he wanted in a marketplace of magical shops.

He was saved from having to respond when a loud voice boomed "Mornin' Severus." Harry turned around to find what was undoubtedly the largest man he had ever seen approaching them. He seemed friendly, and Snape looked more annoyed than anything else, so Harry didn't think the man was really dangerous, even if his sheer size was somewhat disconcerting. "An' this must be Harry! Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby." Not really sure what to say to that he blinked at the smiling man, who, likely sensing Harry's confusion, supplied, "I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts." That didn't really give Harry much to go on either, so he settled for sticking out his hand and saying "Pleased to meet you, Hagrid- er...again," the last word coming out as something of a question.

This seemed, based off of the absolutely beaming smile he gave Harry and the enthusiastic way he shook Harry's hand (whole arm, really), to please the giant of a man immensely. "Yer a polite lad. Reminds me o' yer mum, she could be polite as anythin'. O' course she had quite a temper too, eh Severus?" Hagrid gave Snape a fairly obvious wink, which Harry barely noticed.

"You knew my mum?" he asked, barely able to hope for a yes.

"Course we did. I've bin at Hogwarts since ‘afore she was born. An' Professor Snape here was in the same year as yer mum. Now that I think on it," Hagrid continued, turning to address Snape, "seems the two of you were good friends back then."

Harry's whole attention was now solely focused on the Professor. He no longer cared that staring was rude and Snape might get mad. All his life he wanted to know about his parents, but Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon refused to talk about them. In fact that liked to pretend Aunt Petunia didn't even have a sister whenever possible. And now Snape might have been friends with his mum? Friends with her and therefore able to tell Harry what she was like? It was a wonder he didn't bombard the man with demands for information right then and there. Finally Snape spoke up, "Your mother and I were neighbors growing up, and then we were in the same year at Hogwarts. She was my best friend." The last sentence was spoken so softly that Harry barely heard it.

Thousands of questions, every one that Harry had ever wanted to ask about his mum, came roaring through his mind all at once. Plucking one out at random he asked "What did she look like?" Unspoken, a second question hung in the air: did she look like me?

"Yer mum was a pretty thing. Long red hair and bright green eyes. Jus' like your eyes, ‘smatter o' fact," Hagrid responded. Harry glanced over at Snape, who nodded in confirmation.

"I look like my mum then?" he breathed.

"Well, yeh've got her eyes, but I'd say yeh look more like your dad."

"You knew my dad too?" Harry blurted out.

Hagrid gave a soft chuckle before answering. "O' course I did, he was at school right along with yer mum and Professor Snape here, wasn' he?"

Harry turned to ask Snape about his father to find the man had lost his faraway expression and was looking fairly annoyed again. Angry even. "Your father and I did go to school together, but we did not get along. Now Hagrid I believe you had business to attend to?" It was at that point that Harry realized that, while Snape might be a great resource to go to for information about his mum, it would definitely be in his best interest to go elsewhere for his dad.

"Right yeh are, Severus. I'll see yeh soon, Harry. You can let me know how you like yer birthday cake when yeh get to Hogwarts." And with a cheerful wave he left, walking up to the counter as Snape and Harry went to leave the bank.

"What did he mean by birthday cake sir?" Harry asked, instantly interested at the prospect of sweets.

"He left in my care a cake to give you for your birthday. You may have a slice after you eat your lunch. Though I warn you, the man is not known for his cooking abilities." Harry, however, didn't care if the cake was hard as rocks, and tasted like them too. For the first time in his life he had his own birthday cake. And not just any cake, a cake that someone had taken time to make just for him. Even Dudley had rarely gotten a homemade cake; usually Aunt Petunia would just buy him an ice cream cake from the store. And now Harry had a hand-made cake from a man he hardly knew, and he promised himself right then that he would go find Hagrid on the first day of school and thank him profusely.

Still musing over his birthday cake Harry followed Snape into a shop just across the street called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where they were greeted by a squat smiling witch. "Professor Snape, good morning. This must be a Muggleborn for Hogwarts then?" she asked, then continued on without waiting for an answer. "Got the lot here- though we do usually recommend the Muggleborns get a couple of extra casual robes, to wear on the weekend."

"He'll take two sets," Snape told her. She looked to Harry for confirmation and he nodded in agreement. Now that she had mentioned it, Harry had noticed that most of the people walking around Diagon Alley had been wearing robes. Plus anything was better than Dudley's old cast offs.

"Alright dear, what colors then?"

"Blue," Harry said, naming his current favorite color, "like those ones over there." Harry motioned to a set of dark cobalt robes.

"And for the other set?" she asked pleasantly.

Harry faltered. He had never gotten to pick out clothes before, and so now he wasn't really sure what kind of colors he liked. Finally he turned to Snape, whose black robes were a good deal more comforting than Madam Malkin's mauve and the assistant's, who was currently leaning on the front counter, yellow, and asked "What color do you think sir?"

"Green," came the automatic answer, though the Professor had looked quite confused when he said it. The the man's expression gave Harry the distinct impression that Snape was about as used to being asked for his opinion as Harry himself was.

"Ooooh, I know just the thing," chimed in the assistant, who seemed very excited. "We've got some in a nice green that'll just match the color of your eyes."

"I know the ones," agreed Madam Malkin. "Why don't you take the lad here to the back and start fitting him for his uniform, while I find the other robes."  The assistant jumped up and escorted the two to the fitting area where she had Harry stand up on a stool. She offered a nearby bench for Snape to sit on, but the man declined, preferring to stand with his back to the wall, one eye on Harry while the other kept watch over the store.

When the assistant went to pull the black robes over Harry's head she spotted his scar and gave a squeak of surprise. The look on Severus's face, however, sent her quickly back to work. After a few moments of adjusting and pinning, Madam Malkin walked up, two robes slung over her arms and head turned back to address the pair walking behind her. In the front was a blonde boy who looked about Harry's age. He was accompanied by a pretty blonde woman, who Harry assumed was his mother.

"Well, well," said the silky and cultured voice of the blonde woman, "Severus Snape. Whatever are you doing here?"

"Narcissa Malfoy," Snape replied, inclining his head ever so slightly in her direction. "I'm here on the Headmaster's orders, helping one of our new students get his supplies."

She gave Harry a cursory glance before turning back to the Professor again. "Helping one of the Muggleborn students? How very... noble of you." Harry thought he saw her nose wrinkle briefly when she said the word Muggleborn and he decided that he didn't like her very much.

"Actually Harry here," responded Snape, with the subtlest emphasis on Harry's name, "is a half-blood, but has been living with Muggle relatives since his parents died ten years ago. A very tragic story, perhaps you have heard it?" he asked, his words nothing but polite, but his tone gently mocking.

Mrs. Malfoy looked at Harry again, this time her gaze focused on his forehead. Harry could tell when she spotted his scar because her already impeccable posture seemed to straighten a little and her expression brightened. "Mr. Potter, this is a pleasure," the oily tones form before had faded away completely as she addressed Harry. "I am Narcissa Malfoy and this," she said, gesturing to the blonde boy being fitted on the stool next to him, "is my son Draco. He'll be a first year in Hogwarts this year just like you."

Now Harry did not like this woman, and was tempted to say something rude in response. He had noticed, however, that Snape didn't seem to like her all that much either, but he still had been polite, at least verbally. Harry thought it best to follow the other man's lead. "Hello Mrs. Malfoy, pleased to meet you," he responded in the most disinterested tone he could manage.

She gave no apparent signs that she had noticed his tone, simply giving him a smile that looked only slight more real than the ones Aunt Petunia would sometimes direct at Harry in public before turning to her son. "Now Draco I'll be going up the street to look at wands, you stay here until your father finishes getting your books next door. You can make friends with Mr. Potter here."

"Yes, Mother," the boy replied dutifully and Mrs. Malfoy left. Once she was gone the boy turned to Harry and asked "Is it true that you were raised by Muggles then?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"So that means you haven't been brought up knowing our ways. I bet you've never even heard of Quidditch," Malfoy said, somehow managing to sound sympathetic and superior at the same time.

"No," Harry replied, thinking that this boy might just be as bad as his mother.

"Well, I'll just have to explain it to you then," he declared, and then Malfoy was off, first explaining the basic rules of Quidditch and then going into his favorite teams and some of the games he had seen. The conversation seemed to go on for quite a while, and Harry rather suspected the two witches were going slower than necessary to allow him and Malfoy to keep talking. Which he didn't mind as much as he thought he would, Quidditch sounded brilliant, and while Malfoy was still acting a bit stuck-up, he was pretty good at explaining, and willing to answer any questions Harry asked him.

Finally the assistant taped on Harry's leg and let him know she was done. "If you like," she offered, "there's a changing room just over there; you could go and put one of your new sets of robes on." Harry thanked her and took his green robes to change into while Snape went up front to pay for everything. After he had changed and stuffed Dudley's old clothes into his pocket (hopefully he could convince Snape to use that cool shrinking spell on them, like he did on the bed earlier), he said goodbye to Malfoy and went to meet Snape out front.

"Enjoy your conversation with Mr. Malfoy?" he asked.

Harry nearly shrugged, but stopped himself, instead replying, "I guess so sir. He seemed alright, a little snobby, though."

"Indeed. Though, I would advise you, at the very least, not to make and enemy out of him. His father has a fair amount of pull in the Ministry and is an old... acquaintance of mine. I have little doubt his son could make like very difficult for you if he so choose." Harry agreed to that readily enough. He was hardly going to befriend someone because of who their father was, but he didn't really want to make any enemies either. "On the other hand, if you do decide to befriend Mr. Malfoy I would highly suggest you remain wary. His father may be in with the Ministry now, but he ran in very different circles up until your parent's death."

Harry was momentarily confused, but a few seconds later he understood what Snape was trying to tell him. Malfoy's dad was a Nazi! Or whatever You-Know-Who's followers were called. "But, just because his dad was evil it doesn't mean Malfoy is too," Harry pointed out. The boy certainly hadn't seemed evil, just stuck-up.

Snape seemed to contemplate this for a moment before he spoke again, "True enough Harry. That is why I didn't tell you not to become friends with him, just remain cautious until you're certain you can trust him."

"Yes sir," Harry said, but he personally thought his Professor was a bit paranoid.

The next shop Snape led him to was full of eyeglasses. Harry followed the Professor inside without really paying attention (he had been busy staring at the ice cream shop two doors down), but stuttered to a halt when he realized where they were.

"What is it now?" Snape asked sounding decidedly exasperated.

"I've already got glasses, sir. I don't need a new pair," Harry explained, even as he looked wistfully around at all the nice, not broken, glasses around him.

"Nonsense, Harry. Those glasses you're wearing are held together by little more than sellotape, and you will be getting a new pair. Besides you'll find these glasses to be a bit less breakable than there Muggle counterparts." Harry thought of the look that'd be on Dudley's face when he tried and failed to break Harry's new glasses and decided it would be worth it. No matter how many times Dudley ended up punching him in the nose in the attempt.

"Alright sir," Harry agreed brightly. "But don't we need to get my eyes checked first?" Though, as Harry peered around the store, he could see no place to do that, not even a door leading to a back room that might have the necessary equipment.

"Need I remind you yet again that we are not in a Muggle shop?"

"Oh... er, I mean, no sir," Harry replied, a bit confused, but decided to just find a good pair.

Eventually he picked some out, and took them to the main counter. "Got a pair you like, son?" asked the older wizard who appeared to be the shop owner.

"Yes sir."

"Alright then, let me just fix them up for you real quick." The man pulled out his wand and began chanting in what Harry thought sounded something like Latin. He tapped Harry's head (Snape tensed a little when that happened Harry was pleased to notice, but didn't do anything else) and then tapped the frame of the glasses, which seemed to mold and shift a little. After the glasses were still again he repeated the process, though this time he pointed instead at Harry's eyes, luckily not poking them in the process, and tapped both of lenses.

"There you go, just try those on now," said the man, handing the glasses back over to Harry. He eagerly took off his old glasses and put the new ones on. He was surprised to find that the frames, that had been a bit loose before, now fit snugly. That didn't really matter, however, since he still couldn't see any better with them on than he could without them. At least for the first second or so, but then the lens began shifting and everything came into sharper and shaper focus, until he could see everything with a crystal clarity beyond even what his old glasses gave him. Though to be fair, the other glasses were almost two years old, he just hadn't wanted to ask to be taken to the eye doctor without a note from the school nurse like he had last time.

The old wizard laughed slightly at Harry's look of wide-eyed amazement. "Glad you like them, son. Now those lenses are daily self-updating. That means the first time you put them on every day they'll adjust themselves to fit exactly what you need. Unfortunately the spell on the frames isn't quite as good, so you'll have to bring them in if they get too small."

"Yes sir. Thank you!" Harry exclaimed; astonished once again by all the useful things magic could do. Imagine having glasses that always fit your prescription!

Snape picked up Harry's old glasses as they left the shop, and then unceremoniously chucked them into the nearest rubbish bin.

Most of the rest of Harry's supplies were purchased without incident. When they were getting Harry's equipment he spotted a really nice solid gold cauldron, but, remembering that Snape had mentioned earlier he was the Potions Professor, he elected not to say anything and get the pewter one instead. In Flourish and Blotts they purchased all of Harry's school books, as well as a few extra on wizarding culture and etiquette that Snape insisted on. He also insisted that Harry read all the books before he came to Hogwarts, but Harry privately doubted he'd be able to, considering the large stack of them. Still he promised himself to make sure and read through the entire Potions book and the Herbology one as well (just in case). Harry spent a long time looking at Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-legs, Tongue-tying, and Much, Much More) but ended up deciding to spend some of his pocket money on Quidditch Through the Ages instead, hoping, if the sport was really as popular as Malfoy claimed, it would give him something to talk about with people when he got to Hogwarts. The Apothecary was fascinating too, even if it did smell bad, though the small didn't seem to bother Snape in the slightest (not that that was particularly surprising). Harry thought they would just ask the man behind the counter for the standard ingredients, but was still unsurprised when Snape instead personally walked him around the store and put together a kit for him. He even forced Harry to, without looking at the labels, identify each ingredient. Luckily he didn't get mad when Harry didn't know what most of them were, he just told Harry the correct answer and proceeded to look thoughtful.

The last shop they went to seemed rather small and shabby, and Harry might have been disappointed had it not been for the peeling gold letters over the door: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Now was his chance to get a real magic wand, which he had been looking forward to since he found out he was a wizard.

The inside of the store continued the feeling of a used book shop, or perhaps a strict library, where instead of books the shelves were lined with thousands of little narrow boxes.

"Good afternoon." The sudden voice startled Harry, but Snape seemed unfazed. A very old man was now standing in front of them, apparently having emerged from amongst the shelves.

"Hello sir," Harry said, feeling more than a bit awkward and so falling back on the politeness that seemed to have become a habit of his since he entered the magical world.

"Ah yes," said the man, who Harry assumed must be Mr. Ollivander. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter. You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Harry glanced over at Snape partially to get confirmation of this new piece of information about his mum, a partially as an excuse to look away from Mr. Ollivander, who had moved closer to Harry, and was staring him down with lamp-like silver eyes. Snape gave a brief nod to back Mr. Ollivander's words, but otherwise made no move to intercept the man.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

The man was very close now, and Harry was feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

"And that's where..."

Mr. Ollivander reached out to touch the lightning scar on Harry's forehead, but Snape finally stepped forward, clearing his throat to catch the other man's attention.

"Severus! Severus Snape! How nice to see you again... Ebony, twelve inches, rather rigid, wasn't it?"

"Yes, it is. I believe we are here, however, to pick out Harry's new wand, not to discuss wands of the past."

"Quite," responded Mr. Ollivander in a knowing tone, and Harry felt like he had missed something. "Well, now - Mr. Potter. Let me see. Which is your wand arm?"

"Er - I'm right-handed sir," said Harry.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He took the measuring tape he had pulled from his pocket and proceeded to measure Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, and a great many more besides as he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Halfway through his little speech he left the tape measure to continue the job without assistance, as he began removing boxes from the shelves.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure, which was currently determining the size of the space between Harry's nostrils, fell onto the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and attempted to wave it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it back before anything could happen. Not that Harry felt like anything would have happened given more time. This same process was repeated over and over again, until the spindly chair in the corner was piled high with discarded wands. Mr. Ollivander seemed to find this as a Great Challenge, and began muttering to himself excitedly.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere - I wonder, now - - yes, why not - unusual combination -holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

As soon as Harry's finger curled around the wand he felt a warmth flooding through him. Knowing they had finally found the right one Harry raised the wand high above his head and swished it down, sending a spray of red and gold sparks dancing across the room. "Oh, bravo!" Mr. Ollivander cried. "Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious... " The man continued to mutter about the curiousness of it all as he packed the wand back in its box until Harry felt like he was all but obligated to ask.

"I'm sorry sir, but what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander looked like he was about to say something, but then he stopped and glanced over at Snape. When he turned back to Harry he replied, "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. After a time patterns begin to emerge between the customers and the wands that choose them, and today has brought to light a very interesting one indeed. Quite curious."

Harry was not at all satisfied with that answer, but one look at the Professor told him that he would have to make due. Still, it was probably worth it if it meant less time in the dusty little shop under the watch of Mr. Ollivander's glowing eyes.

Outside the shop Snape glanced up at the sun before announcing that it was time for lunch, making Harry wonder if the man could actually tell time by the sun.

"After lunch we have two more stops to make before we're finished," Snape told him.

"Two more stops? But haven't we got everything on my list sir?" Harry asked.

"Yes, we have purchased all of your required school items, but that does not change the fact change the fact that we have another two stops to make. Now stop dawdling, I need to eat if I'm to continue carting you around today."

"Yes sir," replied Harry, and quickly began trotting alongside the man as he led them to a small café tucked away in a corner of the alley.

Lunch was a much less eventful meal than breakfast. Harry steadily worked his way through a full plate of food and even managed to down a single slice of the birthday cake Hagrid had given him. While it did not taste quite like rocks, it was about as appetizing as Snape said it would be. Meanwhile Snape focused half his attention on eating his meal, and the other half on what appeared to be a letter he was writing. When they had both finished eating, and Snape had finished writing, they quickly paid and Harry followed Snape to the first of their last two stops.

Harry found himself to be confused yet again when Snape led them inside what was apparently a reptile focused pet-shop. "I thought you said I wasn't allowed to get a snake?"

"You are not, and you will not be getting one. However your appalling inability to name Potions ingredients earlier has led me to believe that lack of proper knowledge of Potions ingredients and proper preparation might be the reason so many first years seem better at exploding their cauldrons than actually brewing what they required to. I have therefore decided to use the first lesson to lecture on these two items, and a snake would be helpful for a practical demonstration. And I would of course be able to use the snake as a source of personal Potions ingredients as well. "

Harry beamed up at the man. Whatever he might say about Potions ingredients and lessons, (though Harry had to admit, the lesson had sounded pretty helpful) Harry was fairly certain Snape was buying the snake so Harry could put his Parseltongue plan into action. Well, if the Professor was going to do that for Harry, Harry was going to make sure that Snape got the best snake in the store.

 It ended up taking a good forty minutes to actually purchase the snake. Harry had determined relatively quickly that the female boomslang, though shy, was by far the most interesting snake in the store. Snape, however, was reluctant to buy a venomous pet, and scoffed at Harry's insistence that she was really very friendly. Finally Harry got her to promise that, provided Harry came and talked to her on occasion, she wouldn't bite anyone. Even after securing her promise Snape was still a bit reluctant, and insisted that, should he buy the boomslang, Harry would come to the first Potions lesson for all four Houses and prevent her from biting any of the "dunderheaded students" since he did not "trust a common reptile to keep promises." Harry hardly thought that was an appropriate way to talk about his new pet, but knew better than to say so, instead just agreeing with Snape's request. Having secured promises from both the snake and Harry, Snape finally relented and bought the boomslang. It probably also helped that whole time they were there, the store clerk was listing off all the different Potions boomslang skin was used in.

Feeling a bit smug, Harry followed the Professor out of the shop and asked where they were headed next.

Rather than answering his question directly, Snape said, "I believe you are aware at this point that I have no faith in you relatives' ability to adequately care for you?"

"Yes sir." In actuality, Harry had only picked up on a few hints that the Professor might be unhappy with Harry's home life, but Snape had made it abundantly clear that he intensely disliked the Dursley's, which Harry thought probably amounted to the same thing.

"I have informed them that their treatment of you will improve, but I trust them to do what they are told only slightly more than I trust them to treat you properly, necessitating that I monitor the situation. I, however, do not have the time to do so myself, so I will be requiring you to send me weekly reports as to their behavior."

"You want me to send you letters about how the Dursley's are treating me sir?" Harry asked, but seeing the look on Snape's face he quickly amended "I mean reports about how they treat me?"

"Correct. At this point, though, you have no way to send the reports to me, hence our last stop." As he said this he gestured to the shop they were now standing in front of, Eeylops Owl Emporium.

"I get to get an owl?" Harry whispered in amazement. Snape raised his eyebrows at that, and Harry had to admit to himself that it was a pretty pointless question. But he had never had a pet before, and owl seemed like such an amazing pet to have.

It did not take Harry overly long to pick out a beautiful snowy owl. When they got to the counter to pay for her Harry was surprised to see Snape pull out not the bag of money they had gotten from Gringotts earlier (which Harry now vaguely recalled the Professor placing inside Harry's new trunk while they were at lunch), but the man's own wallet. Harry hardly knew what to say or how to protest. There was no need after all for the Professor to buy Harry's owl.

Snape must have seen Harry looking at the wallet, and choose to explain his actions to a very agitated Harry. "Calm down Harry. I am spending my own money on the owl because I assigned you the task of writing me reports and therefore it is my responsibility to make sure you have everything you need to complete it."

Say what he will, having Snape buy Harry something felt an awful lot like getting a present. A birthday present, no less. Harry felt the urge to thank Snape until he was blue in the face, it was after all his first real birthday present (Harry didn't like to count the "gifts" the Dursley's got him), but he thought Snape might not appreciate it. After all, if the man went to all the trouble of looking mean and claiming he did things out of responsibility, then he probably didn't want to be thanked for it. So Harry just flashed him a grateful smile, and made a big show about how much he liked his new owl.

Still busy admiring his new pet; Harry didn't notice where Snape was leading him until they stopped in front of an area where people seemed to be popping in and out of existence en masse. Suddenly feeling a bit queasy, Harry said, "That's alright sir, you don't have to Apparate me home, I reckon I can just take the Knight Bus by myself."

"While I have no doubt you are capable of riding that infernal bus by yourself, that does not mean you should do so unless there is an emergency. Besides I am the one responsible for watching you right now meaning I need to see you safely home."

"Yes sir," Harry replied glumly. He really didn't like the feeling of Apparation, even if it was a really cool way to travel.

On Snape's instructions he let his new owl out of her cage, telling her to meet him back at home, and then looked in the man's eyes while concentrating very hard on Privet Drive. One short, but unpleasant trip later Harry found himself standing on the immaculate lawn of Number 4. His Uncle's car was once again parked on the driveway, meaning the Dursley's had beat them back.

Snape pulled the shrunken trunk and owl cage out of his pockets and placed them in front of the door before returning them to their proper size again. "This is a letter for your Aunt, reminding her of a few things we discussed last night. Give it to her when you go in and I will be expecting your first report to be sent out by Sunday. Your owl will know where to find me."

"Yes sir," Harry agreed, and then he blinked. When he opened his eyes again, Snape was gone.