Harry woke up early the next morning. Despite being awake he kept his eyes shut tight, caught between hanging onto the last vestiges of his dream and trying to squash any hope that it might have been real. And it had been such a nice dream too, where a Professor named Snape came to tell him that Harry was going to get to go to a school for wizards. Lying there Harry wondered if he was still half asleep, and if that was why his little bed in the cupboard under the stairs felt so comfortable, like the one Professor Snape had magicked up for Harry in his dream.

His sleepy ponderings were interrupted by a loud tapping, undoubtedly Aunt Petunia knocking on the cupboard door. Harry rebelliously kept his eyes shut, clinging to the feel of the soft mattress beneath him, trying to hold onto the dream a few moments longer. That is, until he heard the sound of a little-used window opening.

Sitting up and looking around revealed that Harry was indeed on the bed that had been a sofa just the night before, with Dudley still sleeping deeply next to him. The tiny hut was filled with sunlight, likely what had roused Harry so early, since his mornings were usually dark in the cupboard under the stairs. Harry was briefly confused by the presence of another bed that definitely hadn't been there when he had fallen asleep, but the mystery was solved a moment later when he saw Professor Snape standing by the window, giving an owl what appeared to be several bronze coins in exchange for a newspaper. After the owl had flown back outside Professor Snape closed the window and turned around to see Harry wide awake. "Good, you're up."

"Good morning Professor," he responded automatically. Then, unable to stifle his curiosity, he asked, "What was that?"

Professor Snape leveled a Look at him, giving Harry the distinct impression that the Professor thought he had asked a stupid question. "While I have no doubt that your relatives lack the intelligence of most insects," he said, forcing Harry to stifle an urge to snort, "I find it hard to believe that you were failed to be taught to recognize an owl and a newspaper."

"Yes sir- I mean no sir- I mean-" Harry stammered, "why was an owl giving you a newspaper in the first place? And what were those funny bronze coins?"

"Pay attention, Harry." Professor Snape's annoyed tone barely registered, as Harry was too caught up in the surprise of being referred to by his first name. Not that there weren't other people who called him Harry too, but he hardly expected Professor Snape to be one of them. After a moment he decided it was a pleasant surprise, a decidedly rare occurrence, as it made the snarky man seem a bit... friendlier. "I told you just last night that owls deliver wizard post, which includes newspapers." Which was true, Harry reflected, though he wasn't sure that it was fair that the Professor expect him to remember everything they had talked about the night before, it had been a lot to take in after all. Besides, it was one thing to be told that owls deliver post and quite another to see it happening.

"As for the coins," Snape continued, seeming less annoyed to answer the second question, possibly since it wasn't something he thought Harry should already know, "they are called Knuts, and they are the smallest form of wizarding money in both size and value."

At the mention of money Harry felt all of his previous excitement drain out of him. "Professor? I haven't got any money."

"Aside from the fact that your parents left you a vault, and likely a sizable one, in Gringotts- the wizards' bank Harry, try to focus on the main issue, not the minutiae, why would you even need money?" Snape asked, with the air of someone who clearly feels that his time is being wasted.

While that response opened a whole new can of worms as far as Harry was concerned, he figured the best thing to do was to start by assuring the Professor that Harry was not trying to waste his time. "But sir won't I need money to pay for tuition, and my uniform and books and things?"

"It is my understanding that your parents already made arrangements with regards to your tuition prior to their deaths. As for your supplies- Accio Dursley's cheque book." Harry, eager to see more magic (even if the wording of the spell was peculiar and vaguely worrisome) looked around to try and see what it had done. A moment later there was a soft sound coming from the next room, like something bumping against the connecting door. Snape strode over to the door, swung it open and caught the small item out of the air. He then pulled a quill out of his robes and began writing on the item that a now horrified Harry was able to identify.

"That's Uncle Vernon's cheque book!"

"How kind of you to let me know that my summoning spell worked correctly," Snape replied with biting sarcasm, never looking up from the cheque he was writing.

"But-but-" Harry stuttered, not wanting to contradict the Professor, but not wanting to make his uncle angry either. "He won't want to pay for me to learn magic, sir."

"I don't particularly care what that walrus of a man does or does not want. Your schooling is their responsibility and therefore your relatives will be paying for it." Snape was still completely focused on the cheque book, which he was now prodding with his wand.

"Isn't that not really legal, though sir?"

"The legality of it is questionable. However, in this instance the cheque was going to be written one way or another, I just have no interest in waiting until Dursley wakes up for him to do it." That made it sound like Professor Snape had already talked to his Uncle about giving Harry money for school, which  probably meant it was okay, but still...

"Are you sure you won't get into any trouble?"

At that question the Professor finally looked up from the cheque he was now tearing out of the book with what Harry thought was a very confused expression. It was hard to be sure, though, as less than a second later the expression was replaced by the man's customary sneer. "I highly doubt that your so-called guardians would dare try to get me in trouble for this, and if they did they would have a hard time convincing anyone of anything when the cheque is quite clearly in Dursley's handwriting." With that he ripped the cheque the rest of the way out and sent the book flying back into the other room, presumably returning it to where it came from. "Now get your things together, we will be leaving in five minutes."

XXXXX

Half an hour later, after returning one shrunken bed to his pocket and the other to its original form (leaving Severus both confused as to how the younger whale was able to sleep through yet another transformation of his bed and gratified that he didn't have to deal with the youngest Dursley), transfiguring his clothes into ones that would blend in in the Muggle world, ascertaining that there would be no bathroom breaks until after they left the hut (Severus drew the line at using an outhouse) and cashing the cheque at a Muggle bank, Severus found himself directing Harry into a diner near Spinner's end that Severus was known to frequent on occasion. Though Severus was eager to get this particular day over with as quick as possible, there had been no food in that horrid little hut, and while Severus might have been able to skip breakfast, Harry looked like he could ill afford to miss any meals.

Once inside, Severus was approached by a waitress that he recognized, though he had never bothered to remember her name. "Good morning Professor Snape! And who is this?" she asked, just noticing Harry, half-hidden behind Severus as he was. "Is he yours?"

"No, Harry is just the son of an old family friend, and one of my students this upcoming year." Severus was quick to correct her, but was almost unable to keep a wistful note from creeping into his voice. No, Harry was not his son, but there was always the question of what might have been, if only Severus had been a little less foolish in his youth.

"I see. Well pleased to meet you Harry. Now let's get you lads a table and some breakfast." She escorted them to a corner table and Severus did not so much as look at the menu before ordering his usual plate of eggs, bacon and toast with a cup of black coffee. Harry, once he was reassured that he could in fact order anything he liked, picked out a plate of pancakes with so many sweet things on top that the mere description made Severus feel slightly nauseated, and, at Severus's insistence, a glass of milk.

After the waitress had left with their orders, Harry began staring at Severus, nervously chewing on his bottom lip as he did so. "Out with it, before you eat your lip off."

"Yes sir. It's only... last night you said my parent's didn't die in a car crash, but you said the story was better suited to daytime, and it's morning now so..." Harry trailed off hopefully.

Severus, who had never been a lucky man, suddenly found himself in a quite fortuitous position indeed. The reason he had brought Harry to this Muggle diner, rather than one run by wizards, was to tell Harry the story of the Dark Lord's downfall before entering the wizarding world. It would not do, after all, for Harry to run around in a world where he was a celebrity, when he didn't even know he was one, much less the how's and why's of his famousness. But now that the boy was asking for the information it gave Severus a certain amount leverage over the situation, leverage he intend to put to good use. "I am willing to give you an account of the real cause of your parents' death; however, in exchange, you must fully and truthfully answer any questions I have for you on one subject of my choosing. Agreed?"

"Yes sir!" Harry consented enthusiastically and Severus had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Someone would have to teach Harry to not agree to anything before he fully understood what he was agreeing to. Severus had placed no time limits on his end of the bargain, and had not even specified what he would be asking about. Of course, Severus had no need to worry about it; it wasn't his problem after all.

Glancing around to ensure no one was looking, Severus cast a quick Muffliato charm. No Muggles appeared to have noticed, but Harry had apparently caught the subtle wand usage. "What spell did you just cast?"

"A charm to prevent anyone from listening in on our conversation. While this information is mostly common knowledge amongst witches and wizards, I have no desire to break the International Statute of Secrecy because some Muggle overheard the wrong thing."

"The International what?"

"The International Statute of Secrecy. Magical society is kept separate from the Muggle one, and it is illegal to reveal the existence of magic to Muggles, with a few specific exceptions."

"Why's that sir?"

Severus took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. When it came to spying patience was a virtue Severus had in spades, but when it came to children he was decidedly less than blessed. It would do no good to get angry; it was certainly not Harry's fault that he knew next to nothing about the magical world. Still, Severus found he had a lot more respect for Minerva now, if this is something she put up with from every Muggleborn child she visited. "There are a number of historical and political reasons, none of which I feel like explaining, though it mostly come down to not knowing how Muggles would react if they suddenly found out that a subset of the population could perform magic. Suffice to say, this law is taken very seriously and I don't feel like getting arrested because our waitress decided to eavesdrop."

At that point they had to pause their conversation (and Severus had to temporarily take down the Muffliato) as the aforementioned waitress came to deliver their food. A task that she apparently felt required that she make small talk with Harry before it was successfully completed. Once the waitress had left and the charm was recast Harry turned to Severus and declared, "She wouldn't eavesdrop on us; she's really nice."

That deserved, and got, one of Severus's better sneers. "You will find, Mr. Potter, that nice and trustworthy are hardly synonymous." If the boy was going to act like his father, he deserved to be called after him. "I will not risk a sentence to Azkaban just because you think the waitress is ‘nice.' And before you ask Azkaban is the wizard prison. Now if we could return to the matter at hand?" That got Severus a blank look, so he prompted with, "Your parents' death?" which was able to get a look of comprehension and a nod in agreement.

"The first thing you should know is that the magical society, just like the Muggle one, is made up of both good and bad people. From twenty to ten years ago magical Britain was beset by one of the particularly evil ones. You have learned in school about a Muggle dictator named Hitler correct?" Harry, now looking properly horrified, nodded in agreement. "The details are of course different, but the general principles are the same. This wizard is typically referred to as ‘You-Know-Who' or ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' or, in some circles, ‘the Dark Lord.' You will not use the last title, understood?" Severus admittedly shaking reputation would likely not recover if people found out that it was his fault that the Boy-Who-Lived was calling Voldemort "the Dark Lord." No matter how funny that would be. "However, since you undoubtedly deserve to know, I will tell you his proper name is Voldemort. I will not say it again, and I do not want to hear it from you either.

"Now there were a great number of people who fought the Dark Lord, attempting to stop him and his followers. Lily and James Potter were two such people, but, when they discovered that their son was a target they decided to go into hiding. Unfortunately they trusted the secret of their hiding place to a man named Sirius Black, who betrayed them and gave their location to the Dark Lord. On Halloween night, ten years ago, he came to your house and killed your parents." Telling Lily's son about her death was decidedly harder than Severus had thought it would be, but a combination of Occlumency and years of practice hiding his emotions allowed him to keep it from showing. "Afterwards he turned to you an attempted to kill you as well. Then he vanished."

Harry blinked at this abrupt ending. "He vanished? But why? What happened to him? And if he tried to kill me then why..."

"Aren't you dead?" Severus supplied, never one to sugar coat things for people. "That is the question isn't it? Why is it that when the Dark Lord, most feared man of the age, threw a killing curse at you it barely scarred your forehead?" Severus gave a satisfied smirk when Harry's hand shot up to the lightning bolt previously half-hidden under a lock of hair, obviously surprised by the origin of it. "Theories abound as to why, but I have no interest in discussing what amounts to nothing more than idle speculation and gossip. The facts are the Dark Lord attempted to kill you but failed and then either died, or more likely, was left in such a weakened state that he's hardly able to continue living."

The two were quiet for a few minutes while Harry absorbed this new knowledge. Finally he spoke up, "Professor? Isn't there something you wanted to ask me about?"

"Yes, but I would like to withhold my right to your answers for another time. There is someone else I would like to be privy to that conversation." Severus had originally planned to confront Dumbledore with the information about Harry's home life, but it would be a good deal more satisfying if the Headmaster heard it straight from the victimized party. Perhaps he could arrange for the other heads of houses to be there as well, Minerva in particular could be very protective when she thought the students were in trouble.

Harry nodded mutely in agreement with Severus's request. The rest of the meal passed in silence.

XXXXX

"We aren't going to be Apparating again are we sir?"

"Since I doubt either of us has any desire to have your half-digested pancakes all over my robes, we will be seeking a different method of travel." Severus gave a small smirk at the look of relief on Harry's face. "Now see if you can't make that hair of yours cover up your scar."

"Why?" Harry asked, though the question was less annoying than it could have been, since Harry was already complying with Severus's request as he asked it.

"We will be getting to Diagon Alley by way of the Knight Bus, a public transportation system for wizards. As many people attribute the Dark Lord's downfall to you personally, you are something of a celebrity, and that scar is a dead give-away to your identity. I refuse to spend anytime catering to your adoring fans however, and the best way to prevent that is by covering your scar."

"Thank you sir," said Harry, giving Severus a small smile. That response was not what Severus had been expecting. While he knew better than to think the boy would have Potter's arrogant need for constant attention, he hardly expected an eleven year old boy to turn down a chance to show off. Then again, considering what Severus knew of Harry's past it was doubtful the boy had much positive attention. Maybe he had grown to like staying in the shadows.

Mulling these thoughts over Severus stuck out his wand and flagged down the Knight Bus, which suddenly appeared on the street with a loud bang.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike and-"

"Yes, fine. How much for the two of us to the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Eleven sickles each. But for firteen-" Severus ignored the rest of what the rather obnoxious man was saying in favor of fishing out the correct change. Once gathered, he handed it to the man, and quickly pushed Harry to a seat in the back corner, away from the other passengers. Once they were seated the Knight Bus took off again with another loud bang, and continued down the street it had been on before it had stopped to pick them up.

Several bangs and disembarked passengers later Severus decided it was time to broach the other topic that had been bothering him. "There is one other thing I wish to discuss with you before we pick up your school supplies," he said, pulling Harry's attention away from the window. "You mentioned last night you could talk to snakes, correct?"

"Yes sir, I think so. I only remember it happening the one time, but I definitely was talking to him."

"The ability to talk to snakes is known as Parseltongue, making you a Parselmouth. This is a very rare gift, but is often regarded with some fear in the wizarding world, as the last known Parselmouth was the Dark Lord. While it does not mean anything bad about you that you can speak it, I'd suggest you keep that particular ability to yourself."

"But wouldn't it be better to just tell everyone?" Harry asked. Snape merely raised an eyebrow. Apparently Harry had inherited his parents' sense of Gryffindor boldness. Though, considering the comment he had made earlier about the waitress, maybe it was a Hufflepuff tendency towards trusting. "Only," Harry continued when Severus made no indication of replying, "when Dudley and his ga- friends thought I was trying to keep a secret from them they wouldn't stop until they figured it out, and then they'd make fun of me for it. But if I just pretend like I didn't care that they knew they'd just leave it alone. So I thought if I'd just let everyone know I was a Parselmouth like it wasn't a big deal, then maybe they wouldn't make too big a fuss about it."

It wasn't often that Severus found himself speechless, but this looked to be one of those times. While the idea of simply announcing one's secrets was something he'd expect from a Gryffindor, the whole plan smacked of Slytherin cunning. Harry Potter, James Potter's son, thinking like a Slytherin. Even Lily had lacked the certain subtly to be truly cunning, but her son, the Boy-Who-Lived, apparently had it. It seemed almost inconceivable, but there it was. "And how would you propose you do that?" Severus asked when his voice returned to him.

Harry paused as though think about it before he said, "Well I know the supply list said I could only have a cat or owl or toad, but-"

"Absolutely not. I will not have you thinking yourself above the rules, am I clear Mr. Potter?" Severus had just gotten used to the idea of teaching Lily's son, and he would not let Harry ruin that by acting like his father and his little gang.

"Yes sir," came the reply, suitably meek.

Still the plan had been quite good, a shame for it to go to waste...

"All passengers for the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley!" called the conductor, interrupting Severus train of thought.

Severus and Harry, along with a few other witches and wizards, got off the bus and entered the rather ramshackle little pub. While the other passenger stopped for a drink and a chat, Severus quickly strode towards the back courtyard, Harry in tow. Luckily they were able to make it through without anyone recognizing Harry, or attempting to talk with Severus. (Though how much of that was to do with luck and how much was due to the rather forbidding expression on Severus's face was anyone's guess.) Once there, Severus made a show of counting out the bricks before hitting the correct one three times with his wand. While Severus knew exactly which brick it was without counting, that would hardly be any help to Harry should he need to get into Diagon Alley by himself in the future.

At the look of amazement and wonder on Harry's face at the sight to the brick archway and the cobbled street beyond Severus gave what might have been a (very small!) genuine smile. "Welcome to Diagon Alley."