Aug.17, 9:30 am

Yesterday I didn't write. Didn't feel like it. So Snape says, "No flying then," and that was okay, because I didn't feel like that either. But then he goes, "Quit moping," and then he got angry when I yelled at him that I wasn't moping and that he should just leave me the fuck alone and who asked him anyway?!

So, um, I got pretty well acquainted with the inside of my room yesterday, is what I'm saying.

And Remus didn't come by.

---

Harry finished writing and tucked the journal into his bedside table, then grabbed the hat he was supposed to wear today and went out into the sitting room. Snape was sitting in his chair near the fireplace, paging through the Daily Prophet.

"You actually read that rag?"

Snape looked up. "Know thy self and know thine enemy," he said, making it sound like a quote.

"What's that from?"

"Sun Tzu."

"Who?"

He rose and put the paper down. "Sun Tzu. A Chinese General, and well known Wizard who waxed philosophic about war."

"Oh."

"Succinct as always, Mr. Potter. Have you frittered away enough of the morning? Or are you finally ready to get our visit to Diagon Alley underway?"

Harry gave him a half smile. "I'm ready. But, well, I'm going as a long-haired, hat-wearing, glasses-less, soon-to-be-sixth-year, but what's your disguise going to be? A boil on the left cheek of-"

Snape's hand shot up, and Harry jumped back a step as the potions master pointed at him with one long finger. "Finish that question at your peril," he warned.

Harry gulped, thinking he had, perhaps, gone too far. But he really wasn't sure where too far was and so had to test things out from time to time. "Er, that's all right. I was done."

"Yes. I imagine you are." Turning to his desk, he took out a small vial of a sludgy looking liquid and shook it gently. "Besides, that was to be my Halloween costume."

As Harry gaped at him, wondering if Snape was serious - it was so hard to tell, sometimes - Snape uncorked the vial and took a swallow.

Polyjuice, it had to be. Harry watched, fascinated, as Snape transformed before his eyes. His black hair turned brown and shortened just a smidge, his eyes took on a softer, warmer hue, his face filled out, and he shrank about three inches.

Lupin.

Feeling something catch in his throat, Harry stared at him. "You're gonna . . . going to want to get some different robes, Professor. Remus doesn't wear black."

Remus - Snape rolled his eyes and went to his room, coming out a few moments later dressed just like Remus had been a couple days ago. "Let's go," he said with Remus' voice, and stepped toward his fireplace. "Floo to the Headmaster's quarters first, and we'll go from there to Diagon Alley. Understand?"

"Yes, sir. I'm not three, you know."

Remu - Snape drew a short, sharp breath. The glare he leveled at Harry just didn't have the same weight as it usually did, coming from those amber eyes. He grabbed a handful of Floo powder and threw it into the fire, saying "Dumbledore's Office," quite clearly.

It took Harry a minute to compose himself; he still felt awfully guilty for the way he'd yelled at Remus the other day, even though Snape had said -several times now - that he'd been right to vent some of his real feelings, and he was right to feel let down by those he trusted. He had not realized he would be going shopping with Remus, though . . . even if it wasn't really him, it was going to be hard.

Finally, figuring he'd used up his quota of Snape's patience already today, he grabbed a handful of powder and went through to Dumbledore's Office. Stumbling out of the Floo, like he always did, Harry was caught by two strong hands that righted him before he hit the ground.

Still a bit disoriented, he panicked and pulled away, wrenching his arm out of the steadying grasp and scrambling back till he hit a chair. "Don't!"

"Potter. Harry, it's all right."

"Please, don't, Rem-" He shook his head as the white dots dancing in his eyes receded and he remembered who he was really with. God, was he ever going to be all right again? "I mean, sorry, sir."

Snape looked at him, Remus' arms crossed over Remus' chest. The office was empty aside from the two of them, and Harry was just as glad he didn't have to face Dumbledore today. He hadn't actually been here since the night he'd trashed this room . . . and looking around, it seemed like most of the fragile, breakable, priceless items had been repaired and were back where they'd been two months ago. He wasn't sure how he felt about that - surely there should be some proof remaining of his destructive anger that night.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Potter?" Snape-Remus asked, frowning.

"Course I am." Harry took a slow breath and nodded. "But you've got to quit calling me that, especially now. Remus doesn't call me Potter. Oh, er, what will you be calling me?"

Snape smiled sharply. With Remus' face it looked like gas. "Today your name is Nicholas. I will go through first. Do try not to flail about too much on the other end, mm? The idea is to not draw attention to ourselves."

"Sorry, sir."

Without another word, Remus-Snape Floo'd through to Diagon Alley, and Harry followed right after him, this time making sure of the pronunciation, so he wouldn't end up in Knockturn Alley instead. The last thing he'd need would be a side trip to Borgin and Burkes. But he guessed he got it right this time, as he came out in the Leaky Cauldron. Once again, though, had to rely on Snape to catch his fall.

"You can fly upside down and backwards on a broom, but can't Floo without falling on your face?" Remus-Snape murmured, setting him back on his feet.

"I haven't had much practice," Harry retorted. He brushed at the soot on his robes - the ones he'd had sized from Snape's own wardrobe. If nothing else, he would be overjoyed to have his own clothes again.

"If I remember correctly, you caught a thrown Remembrall the first time you were on a broom. From over a hundred feet away. McGonagall, for one, was much impressed."

"Yeah, well, that was different."

"Enlighten me," Remus-Snape said as they left the Leaky Cauldron and made their way up the street to Ollivander's. They'd determined that what Harry needed most of all right now was a wand, and if they had to leave the Alley early for some reason, he had to be sure and get a wand first. A short argument had ensued when Harry pointed out he needed to go to Gringott's first, in order to have money to buy a wand, and Snape said that as Harry's guardian, it would be his responsibility to provide for Harry, up to and including galleons for wand, clothes and books. Harry had pointed out that Snape was not his guardian, not yet, and Snape finished the bout with a "Timing on that score matters little to me, Mr. Potter. But we will not be taking the time out of our schedule for Gringott's."

Now Harry shrugged, tugging the soft-brimmed hat a little lower over his forehead. "I was angry and it was Neville's, that his Gran had sent him, and M-m-malfoy was being a prat."

Remus-Snape sent him a quick look, but didn't say anything about Harry's stumble over the name, for which he was grateful. If he could just get through this day without freaking out, he knew he'd be ready for class. He was worried, though, because he hadn't even spoken to Hermione and Ron this summer, and he didn't know what they knew about where he had been, or what had happened, and he couldn't even imagine that conversation.

The Alley was more crowded than the Cauldron had been, but no one paid them any attention, and they were able to weave through the shoppers easily enough. Ollivander's was at the far end of the Alley, and they had to bloody well pass Gringott's to get there, but Harry didn't roll his eyes or sigh or anything as they continued on without stopping. Not much, anyway.

Inside the dingy storefront at last, Harry stepped up to the counter, careful to not push his hair away from his face, where some of it had fallen. Even so, Mr. Ollivander's large moon-like eyes traveled over him rather closely before he glanced at Remus-Snape. "Ahh, Remus Lupin. Oak, wasn't it? Sixteen inches, reasonably springy, dragon heartstring core."

Snape-Remus smiled and nodded.

Then those odd eyes were on Harry again and Harry tried not to squirm. "Needing a new wand, are you?"

"Yes, sir. Mine was, er, broken."

"Ah, I sold you that wand, didn't I?"

"Er, maybe. It was oak. I think-"

Ollivander smiled a smile that stretched his whole face out. "Mr. Potter, do you think we could dispense with the subterfuge? That would be holly, eleven inches, supple, with a single phoenix tail feather, correct?"

"Um, yeah." Harry's face flushed, and Snape moved slightly closer to him. "But I don't have it anymore and need a new one."

"Of course. Let's see . . . Oh, try this one. Mahogany, 9 ½ inches and with a unicorn tail hair." He proffered the box to Harry, who took the wand out and swished it, but nothing happened. "No? All right then, how about . . ."

It took thirteen wands this time to find one that worked well for Harry. This time around, the wand was yew, 11 inches, with a sliver of basilisk fang at its core. Harry almost hated to touch the thing when Ollivander described it, but the wand warmed in his hand when he finally picked it up, and felt . . . right. Red and gold sparks flew out of the end as soon as he had his fingers wrapped around it.

"Yew. Interesting," Ollivander said, with that same creepy tone he'd used the last time Harry had gotten a wand from him. "Symbolic of death and resurrection," he added. "I don't make many of these. Haven't sold one for many, many years."

Harry got a heavy feeling in his chest, and he wanted to stop the wandmaker before he said any more, but was helpless to do so. Still, he knew he could have said the words that next came out of the elderly man's mouth, at the exact same time.

"He Who Must Not Be Named has a wand of yew."

Of course he did. There were yew in the churchyard where Cedric had died. And in the forbidden forest where Hagrid kept the herd of thestrals. Death surrounded them.

"And resurrection, Mr. Potter," Ollivander said, and Harry realized he'd said the last aloud. The man's smile turned a bit wry. "Rather like a phoenix, in a way. Always rebirth, after death. Don't forget, there are two sides."

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he almost twisted away before he remembered. Snape. When the hand squeezed his shoulder, almost gently, Harry realized he was trembling and tried to stop, slowing his breathing and focusing on the here, on the now.

Remus' voice said, "Very well. How much?" He paid without releasing Harry's shoulder, and then steered him back into the street. Harry used the contact to keep himself steady. . . . steadier.

Once outside, Remus-Snape peered into his eyes. Harry had seen concern in Remus' eyes before, so this wasn't terribly off-putting. It was hard to remember, with that look in the amber eyes, that this was really Snape. "Has this been enough? We can do the rest by owl."

"No, it's all right." Harry nodded. "I'm all right."

Remus-Snape pursed his lips, and after another moment, nodded. After he gave one last squeeze, Snape let his shoulder go, and walked beside him as they retraced their steps. As they passed Gringott's on the way to Madam Malkin's, Harry said quietly, "I'll pay you back."

Remus-Snape glared at him. "You'll do no such thing."

"I have plenty of money--"

"Which I do not care about in the slightest."

Harry wanted so badly to ask what Snape did care about, but was almost sure the answer would be something like "duty" or "safety" or "winning the war against evil," and he didn't want to hear any of those, so he hurried his steps instead and pushed his way into the clothier's without looking back.

The squat, smiling witch came up to him immediately. "Hogwarts robes, dear?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said. "Mine are . . . too small." He just wished. He'd probably only grown a few inches in five whole years.

"Of course, of course. Well, over here, dear, up on the stool and I'll get you measured."

"He'll also need everyday clothing," came Remus' voice, with a touch of humor in it as Harry shot him a look. Remus' smirk wasn't quite as potent as Snape's but it raised Harry's ire all the same. "Shirts, trousers, socks, vests, the lot. A winter cloak, boots and two pairs of shoes. Gloves, hat, jumpers . . ."

It would cost a bloody fortune. Harry's glare intensified, and so did Snape's Remus-smirk. There was no need to get all of this now, and Snape knew it. But Harry would see him paid back, every knut.

"Excellent, excellent," Madam Malkin said. She took her measuring tape from a deep pocket in her robes, then set it into motion over Harry's whole body as she collected clothing for him into a large pile. Once everything was in order, she shrunk the clothing, and Snape put it in his pocket.

Exhausted, Harry left the store needing to sit down.

Snape gestured to the café sitting area across the street, at Florean Fortescue's. "Ice cream?"

Harry had to smile. "Strawberry?"

"Indeed."

At the ice cream shop, Harry was able to scrunch down in his seat and watch pedestrians, keeping his eye on anyone who came near. He knew he was being a bit paranoid, but the last thing he wanted was to have some one sneak up on him and attack him -- if it was a Death Eater -- or fling themselves on him -- if it was Hermione or Mrs. Weasley. Neither held any appeal, but now that he had his wand, he'd be hard pressed to say which would be worse.

Snape, as he'd said, seemed to really enjoy his ice cream, and on Remus' face, the resulting smile didn't look so forced. Harry had chocolate, with whipped cream, but he only ate a few bites before pushing the rest away. His head was pounding and he felt hot and cold, both at once. The Alley was too noisy and there were too many people around for him to keep an eye on them all.

"I believe," Snape said, wiping his mouth with a paper serviette, before getting to his feet, "that we shall head back to the castle now."

"No, it's okay. We haven't gotten my books yet."

"We can easily procure those by owl. Come along now, Nicholas."

"I'm all right," Harry insisted.

"You. Are. Not." Remus-Snape loomed over him. "You are in danger of over extending yourself, and we will cease this excursion before that happens. Do not force me to drag you to the Leaky Cauldron by the ear like an errant child."

He wouldn't, Harry thought. But, looking into the unaccustomed scowl on Remus' face and measuring his words, Harry knew he would. He wiped his own mouth and sidled out of his seat, shoulders hunched and hands shoved in his pockets. Snape-Remus shook his head slightly and walked them back to the Floo point.

Harry and Snape stood in front of the stone fireplace, waiting while a middle-aged witch and her two young children went through.

Snape leaned closer to Harry and said, "There's a password, to get back through to the Headmaster's office. It--" but the rest of his words were drowned in a gust of green flame that billowed up as a tall man stepped out of the fireplace, swathed in black, from boots to cloak, except for the cloak's silver clasp, and the silver snake head on the cane in his hand.

Harry fell back, scrambling madly to get out of the way, a low keening sound coming from his throat as Lucius Malfoy stood regally before him.