Ten…nine… Eight…Seven…Six…Five…Four… Three…Two…Bang!
“Where’s the cannon,” Dudley asked stupidly.
The door to the shack came crashing down. The man standing in the doorway was tall, but not particularly large. Still, he managed to cast an impressive silhouette. He was dressed in black from head to toe. That in and of itself was a bit strange. What made the man even odder, was the man was wearing some sort of robes. Harry had seen people dressed like this before, but it was normally right before Aunt Petunia rushed them away.
The Dursleys came rushing out of the bedroom. Uncle Vernon came out a shotgun in his hands.
“You!” Aunt Petunia seethed seeing the man.
“Hello Tuney,” the man said casually. The man withdrew a long wooden stick from somewhere in the depth of his robes.
“What are you doing here?” Petunia hissed.
“I’ve come for Potter.” The man said casting a steely eye around the small hut. His eyes landing on the smaller of the two boys almost instantly.
“He’s not going. We said when we took him in that we put a stop to all this nonsense.” Uncle Vernon thundered.
“This is for you,” the man said taking a step closer to Harry.
“He’s not going,” Uncle Vernon repeated. He raised the gun, aiming it at the man.
The man glared at Uncle Vernon. With a flick, of the stick, the gun in Uncle Vernon’s hand disappeared, just like magic.
“The boy is going.” The man said flatly. “I would like to see you try and stop me.” He turned his attention to the black-haired boy once more. “Potter, take the letter.”
Harry took the bit on paper nervously. He didn’t know much about this man, but he could tell he was not someone to cross. Aunt Petunia seemed to know him too. And she didn’t like him.
Harry opened the letter with shaky fingers. He pulled out several sheets of parchment. His eyes cast over the stationary, stopping upon reading “Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry”.
“Sir,” Harry said nervously.
The man rolled his eyes. “What is it, Potter?”
“What does it mean School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?” Harry asked confused.
“You’re a wizard, Potter.” The man stated as if it was obvious.
“I’m not a wizard,” the boy protested, “I’m Harry, just Harry.”
The man snorted. “Potter, have you ever wondered why strange things happen when you are angry or scared?”
Harry thought about it. The sweater that shrunk, the horrible haircut, all the other strange things that had gotten him in trouble. The man hadn’t phrased it as a question. He knew Harry had done things, without even asking.
“Are you a wizard too?” Harry asked the man.
“I am Professor Snape, Potions-” the man began.
“He’s a freak,” Petunia interjected. “It’s his fault your mother is dead.”
“What!” Harry said spinning from the man to his aunt and back again.
A dangerous flash of anger crossed the man’s dark features. “Silence Tuney.”
Petunia ignored him. “If it wasn’t for him, your mother would be alive.”
Harry looked at her and then back to the man.
“She wouldn’t have been such a freak and gotten herself blown up.” Petunia continued.
“Blown up? You told me my parents died in a car crash!” Harry shouted back.
If it were possible, the man looked even more annoyed at this statement.
“A car crash kill Lily,” Professor Snape scoffed. “She was one of the greatest witches of the age.” He turned to the boy. “Your parents were murdered.”
“What?” Harry asked dumbfounded.
“A dark wizard killed them,” Professor Snape said matter-of-factly.
“Why?” Harry asked.
Screwing up his courage or at least irritation Uncle Vernon barked, “Stop this.”
Professor Snape shot a glare at Uncle Vernon and Uncle Vernon was silence once more. He issued his family into the small bedroom.
The man, Professor Snape, continued as if there had been no interruption. “Your parents were part of a group that was fighting the dark forces. They lost their lives in the fight.”
“Oh,” Harry said sadly.
“Yes,” Professor Snape said slowly.
“Come along Potter,” Severus said briskly standing by the door of the shack. “That is unless you wish to stay here.”
Harry hopped to his feet. “But where are we going? It’s the middle of the night.” The boy asked.
“You shall see.” Professor Snape placing a hand on the scruff of the boy’s neck.
Harry stepped out of the small shack. The rain was still pouring down, but he wasn’t getting wet. He looked up to see if the professor was holding an umbrella. He wasn’t.
“Ho-” began to ask, but he stopped. He suddenly felt like he was being sucked through a straw. An instant later there were someplace else. Harry was in a heap on the ground. Harry had no idea where it might be, but it was most definitely not outside the shed on the rocks.
Harry stood and brushed off the dirt from his landing. He looked a little more to see if he could figure out where they were. There were a number of dustbins next to Harry. Black and white cat ran past him.
“Come along, Potter,” Professor Snape ordered. The man had come through their trip much more gracefully. He brushed a bit of nonexistence dust from his robes.
“What was that?” Harry asked taking two strides for every one of the professor’s.
“Disapperition and Apperition,” Professor Snape replied.
“What’s that?” Harry asked.
“What you just experienced. Think before you speak. If there is specific information desired, be sure to ask the appropriate questions.” Professor Snape instructed.
Harry looked at him puzzled.
Professor Snape rolled his eyes at the boy’s lack of comprehension. “Never mind, come along,” the man said again.
Harry followed the man into a building. They entered a dingy pub. There was a large fire in the corner of the room. An old man was smoking a long thin pipe reading a newspaper. Two old women were talking quietly showing each other strange objects. Several weird looking little men were around another table. Harry didn’t like their long fingers or pointed faces. They made him nervous.
Professor Snape ignored all of the other occupants. Instead, he moved with purpose towards the bar.
“Evening P’essor S’ape,” the toothless man behind the bar greeted the professor.
Professor Snape nodded in greeting. “We need two rooms,” the professor told the barman.
“Yes sir,” the barman replied. He disappeared around a corner and returned a moment later, two brass keys in hand.
“But sir, I don’t,” Harry began to protest.
Professor Snape brushed away his concerns. “You will reimburse me in the morning.”
“But I don’t have any money,” Harry was able to voice his objects this time.
“You do,” the professor reassured. “Now off to your room. I will collect you at 8:30 sharp for breakfast. Tomorrow will go to the bank and collect your money so you can pay for your school supplies.”
Harry followed after the professor up the stairs. The professor stopped in front of a room with a large brass number nine on the door. “This is your room. I will be in room number thirteen if you need me. I do not wish to be disturbed needlessly. Am I understood?”
Harry nodded.
“I will see you in the morning.” The professor said turning down the hall.
“Good night sir,” Harry said softly. "This is crazy," Harry mumbled to himself.
"Yes dear," a sleepy voice said behind him. Harry nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Who's there?" He demanded.
No one responded. Harry looked around the room, he was by himself. That was strange. He could have somebody spoke a second ago. The only thing behind him was a battered wooden framed mirror on the wall. And mirrors only talked in fairy tales weren’t real. Then again, wizards only existed in fairy tales too.
Harry, let it go as looked around the room more. It had a large comfortable looking bed with four pillows. The comforter was old and slight stained; Harry wasn't sure with what. A few of the spots were black, like ink from a pen. There were a few small holes. Even with all that, it was nicer than anything the Dursleys ever let him sleep in before. It was better than the floor of the shack that was for certain. The wooden wardrobe stood in the corner, its doors slightly askew. Harry smiled. This was better than sleeping on the floor of a shack on some rocks. It was even better than Dudley's second bedroom. At least to Harry, Aunt Petunia would hate it.
Harry crawled under the blankets knowing that this all must be some wonderful dream and when he woke up it would all be over. What seemed like only minutes later there was a tapping at the door. Harry burrowed deeper into the blankets. He refused to open his eyes. A second knock wrapped on the door. Aunt Petunia was knocking to wake him.
"If I don't wake up, maybe I can still pretend I'm a wizard." Harry thought to himself.
"Potter," an annoyed voice called with the third knock. That wasn't Aunt Petunia Harry realized instantly.
Harry's eyes shot open. He wasn't in Dudley's second bedroom, or even the shack on the rocks. He was in an inn.
"Potter, you better be getting ready," the dark man, Professor Snape called through the door.
"Yes sir," Harry called back.
"Be ready in five minutes," Professor Snape instructed.
"Yes sir," Harry said again.
Harry heard the sound of boots clicking down the hall. He grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and placed them on his nose. He couldn't do anything if he couldn't see. He pushed the covers away. It wouldn't take him long to get ready. He didn't have a change of clothes or anything. He forgot to grab anything when they were leaving the Dursleys. Harry pulled his clothes from the day before back on. He made sure to tuck in Dudley's old shirt that was about five sizes too big for Harry. Professor Snape looked like one of those people who expected you to dress properly at all times. For this reason, Harry tried to flatten his hair a bit, but it was no use. Harry pulled open the door just as the professor raised his hand to knock.
"G'morning sir," Harry greeted nervously.
"Potter," the man replied. He cast a steely gaze over the boy. His lips turned down at the boy's appearance. "Are those not the clothes you were wearing yesterday?"
Harry bit his lip uncertain.
"I expect an answer, Potter." Professor Snape said darkly.
Harry played with the cuff of his long sleeve shirt.
"Well," Professor Snape demanded.
Harry nodded, "Yes sir... We...I forgot to grab...to bring my clothes last night...." Harry rushed on to explain.
"That was my fault,'" Professor Snape conceded.
"I should have-" Harry began.
"Stop Potter," Professor Snape said raising his hand to stop the boy's objections. "It is not very often that you will admit I have made a mistake. Take it as it was meant."
Harry nodded not sure what to say to that.
"Tell me, Potter, are all your clothes in such a dreadful condition?" The professor asked.
Harry pulled his at cuffs once more. "What do you mean?"
"Could they all be used as circus tents? Do they all have stains on the knees? Or are these your play clothes?"
Harry bit his lip again.
"Potter, answer the question. You are in no trouble. I simply wish to know so we can plan our trip accordingly. You should have a proper wardrobe before attending Hogwarts." Professor Snape explained.
"Errrrr.... They're all sort of like this," Harry finally said.
Professor Snape nodded to himself. "Very well, we will have to make a stop in Muggle London before we return you back to your family."
Harry wanted to protest, but the man was already annoyed.
"Come along Potter," Professor Snape said turning down the hall once more.
Harry followed dutifully. The two went downstairs and ordered breakfast from the toothless barman.
"What's a Muggle?" Harry asked as he played with his fork as the pair waited for their food.
"An individual that does not possess magic. Your aunt is one of the most Muggle people I have even had the misfortune to meet." Professor Snape explained.
"How do you know Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked.
"We grew up near one another." The professor said taking the fork from the boy's ceaselessly twitching fingers.
"So did you know my mum too?" Harry asked looking up at the man's sharp features through his fringe.
"I would have gathered such from your aunt's outburst last night."
"Errrr..." Harry mumbled.
Professor Snape said, "I told you last night, Potter, if you have a question ask it. But ensure it is the right question. To answer your question, yes I knew your mother. We were in the same year at Hogwarts. However, we were in different Houses."
"What are Houses?" Harry asked excited to know more about this fantastic new place he was going.
The professor's tone became even more formal. "The students are sorted into four houses, Gryffindor, your mother and father's house, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and my own house, Slytherin. You are sorted into your House when you arrive in your first year. Your House is much like you family while you are at Hogwarts."
"How do you know what House you belong in?" Harry asked.
"You are sorted based on personality traits." Professor Snape elaborated.
The barman arrived with their plates. Harry dug into his breakfast, extra hungry from the pathetic excuse of a dinner the night before. Professor Snape ate at a much more leisurely pace.
The professor paid the bill when the finished and Harry followed him out the back of the building. The man pulled his wand and tapped it on the third brick on the left above the rubbish bins. Harry watched wonder struck as a stone archway appeared before them. Harry had to take two steps for every one of the professor’s to keep up.
The man walked with purpose down the crooked cobbled alley. He paid no attention to the myriad of astonishing shops all around them. Harry didn't have enough eyes to take it all in. Several times he had to run to catch up with his chaperone who just kept walking, not noticing Harry had stopped at some stall or other. Professor Snape placed a hand on the scruff of Harry's neck when they came to the bottom of a white marble staircase. Harry looked up awestruck.
"This is Gringotts." Professor Snape told him. "We will retrieve sufficient funds to purchase a new wardrobe for both the wizarding and Muggle worlds."
"But I don't have any money," Harry protested.
The man snorted. "You have adequate funds, I assure you."
Harry walked beside the tall man up the steps. The little men with the pointed faces and long fingers disturbed him.
"What are they," Harry asked softly enough so only his guide could hear.
The professor did not keep down his voice, but he did answer Harry's question. "They are goblins, a highly intelligent race of creatures. They run the bank. If you have any sense, you will never try and cheat a goblin."
They approached one of the goblins standing behind one of the tall counters. "Mr. Potter wishes to make a withdrawal."
"And does Mr. Potter have his key?" The goblin asked.
The professor pulled a tiny metal key from one of his many pockets and gave it over for examination. He also pulled out a small glass vial and handed to Harry.
"What's this?" Harry asked eyeing it suspiciously.
"A stomach calming draught," the professor motioned for Harry to take it.
"But my stomach doesn't hurt," the boy protested.
"I am glad to hear it. I aim to keep it that way. The potion not only treats illness due to motion but will prevent it from developing." Professor Snape explained, his temper, slightly short.
Harry took the outstretched vial and downed the contents in one swift gulp. He made a face of disgust at the bitter taste. The goblin returned the key to the professor he gestured for another to take them down to Harry's vault. The three climbed into a rickety cart and speed off down the cavernous tunnels. Harry couldn't keep track of all the turns after much jostling around. They stopped outside a small metal door.
The goblin got out of the cart before Harry and the professor. "Key please," the goblin requested.
Professor Snape handed it over. The door opened silently. Huge piles of gold, silver, and bronze coins.
"Wow," Harry uttered gobsmacked.
"Wow indeed," Professor Snape said his lip twitching up for half a second.
"You can see why you will have no trouble with acquiring your school necessities."
"Yes sir," Harry agreed still looking at the coins. The man passed him a small leather bag.
“The bronze ones are knuts and equal to a pence. The silver ones are sickles, there are 29 knuts to a sickle. Each sickle is around 29 pence. Lastly, the gold ones are galleons, there are 17 sickles to the galleon and are roughly worth five pounds. However, the exchange rate between Muggle and wizard currency is variable.”
Harry nodded but didn't totally understand what he was being told. All he knew was this was more money than he had ever had in his life. If the Dursleys knew it existed, it would have been gone long ago.
"Potter, I am taking thirteen sickles and eight Knuts for your room and breakfast this morning." Professor Snape said counting out the coins with great care.
"Okay sir," said Harry.
The ride back up was just as unpleasant as the ride down. By the end, Harry was glad the man made him take the potion even if it tasted of sour milk. Their departure from the bank was delayed when they met Hagrid in the lobby. Hagrid it turned out was the Keeper of the Keys and Grounds of Hogwarts. He was also the person to get Harry from his parents' house the night they were killed. Professor Dumbledore sent Hagrid to get something from vault 713. Professor Snape got mad at Hagrid for mentioning that, but Harry didn't understand why. He grumbled about it all the way to the apothecary.
Harry didn't like the shop very much. It smelled of rotten eggs and old cabbage. The professor helped him pick out a good cauldron. He wouldn't let Harry get one that had any sort of dents, bumps, or nicks. He also suggested a few additional ingredients that were not on the school's required list.
Next, they went on to buying Harry quills and parchment. The professor bought him some practice sheets too. He didn’t call them a birthday present, but Harry thought of them as such. With one eyebrow raised and a sneer on his sallow face, Professor Snape explained to he expected Harry to practice using a quill and ink before he arrived at Hogwarts. The man went on about the less abominable penmanship the better, even if there was even one fewer student with illegal scrawl it would make his life that much simpler.
Then it was robes and the bookstore. The professor dragged Harry away from a tome on modern jinxes. Harry heard him mumbling something about 'just like your father'. Harry didn't know what he meant by that.
Finally, there was only his wand left to get in Diagon Alley. This is what Harry had been looking forward to the most. His own magic wand. The wand shop was small and dark. A small bell dinged as they entered the store. The walls were crammed full of dusty boxes. A little man with sharp silver eyes appeared from the back.
"Ahhh, Harry Potter and Severus Snape," he greeted. "I've been expecting you of course, Mr. Potter. You'll be needing a wand of your own."
He placed Harry on a dais the tape measure doing all the work unassisted as Mr. Ollivander pulled boxes from the shelves. The old man started giving Harry wands to try. Harry felt sort of foolish waving the wands. He didn't know how he was supposed to know it was the right one for him. Mr. Ollivander didn't seem to mind the ever-growing pile of boxes. After what felt like the hundredth one Harry found his wand.
A warm rush of magic ran up his arm when it was placed in his hand. Sparks of red and gold shot from it at that instant too.
"Curious, very curious," Mr. Ollivander muttered as he placed Harry's new wand in the box and wrapped it.
"What's curious sir," Harry asked nervously.
"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Everyone. Mr. Snape's ebony and dragon heartstring, your mother's willow and unicorn hair. This wand, holly and phoenix feather it has a twin. The phoenix gave only one more feather. It is the core of the wand that belongs to the man who gave you that scar." Mr. Ollivander said putting a long wrinkled finger to Harry's forehead. "I think we can expect great things from you. He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named did terrible things, but great. Yes, I think we can expect great things from you."
Harry was glad to leave the shop, Mr. Ollivander made him nervous. On their way out of Diagon Alley, they ran into Hagrid again. He presented Harry with a snowy owl, a gift for his birthday. He explained that it was one of the three permitted pets and the most useful since they deliver your mail. Also, cats made him sneeze. Harry thanked the giant for the wonderful gift. She was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen and she was his. Aunt Petunia was going to hate her.
It wasn't until he and Professor Snape were sitting down for lunch in a Muggle hamburger restaurant after getting Harry's new Muggle clothes that Harry got a chance to ask about what Mr. Ollivander was talking about.
The professor explained about the dark times. How the Dark Lord, Voldemort went bad. He killed many people, but on the word of a foolish boy he wanted to kill Harry. Through all of this, there was a look Harry couldn’t identify, it wasn’t exactly sadness, but something similar to that. The man continued on about how when Voldemort went to kill Harry, the spell backfired and destroyed him. Harry was left with only a scar. This dark wizard was gone for now, but he would be back some day. There were still those loyal to him too.