"Absolutely not," Snape hissed, glaring furiously at Dumbledore. "I will not be saddled with the responsibility of shopping with that boy! I've made my thoughts about him quite clear!" Dumbledore popped another sherbert lemon into his mouth and returned his glare with a calm, serene smile.
"Nevertheless," He replied. "Harry Potter is in need of school supplies. I would trust in his safety only to you, Severus."
"Albus," Snape snapped. "I don't have time to take care of the needs of a spoiled brat on my day off! I have papers to sign, files to fill, potions to brew-"
Really, Severus, there's no need to be dramatic," Albus said, steepling his fingers. "It will take no more than a few hours, and then you can go back to your potion-brewing. In any case, I believe you may be - Oh what is the phrase -'Judging a book by it's cover'? Or, in this case, it's last name."
"Albus, I cannot—"
"You promised me you would look after him," Dumbledore interrupted, giving Snape a stern look. Snape paused for a moment, fists clenched, then let out a sharp exhale.
"Fine. But I will not be accommodating or catering to his every need," Snape sat back down in the chair opposite Dumbledore. "I will explain the basics to his guardians, but nothing more."
"Very well," Dumbledore conceded, smiling. "I find that acceptable."
"Good. Now who in the world are his guardians, anyway?"
-)0(-
When the doorbell rang on Sunday afternoon, Harry was dusting the back of the TV.
"Who is it, boy?" Uncle Vernon came lumbering in the room, wearing a milk mustache and holding a half-eaten hamburger. "Go get the door!"
"Yes, Uncle," Harry replied. Inwardly, he was jumping up and down in excitement. He couldn't wait to see Hagrid again! And Diagon Alley, and Hedwig-
Harry opened the door, and there stood Professor Snape.
Instantly, memories assaulted him. Professor Snape was casting a Killing Curse with casual ease, throwing Dumbledore off the Astronomy Tower. Professor Snape was sobbing, holding Lily in his arms and begging for her forgiveness. Professor Snape was dying, bleeding out from Nagini's fangs, grasping Harry's arm and begging him to look at me-
"Who is it, boy! Is it Mrs. Figg from across the street?" Aunt Petunia's sharp question broke the flow of memories, and Harry took a couple of steps back, letting out a shaky breath.
"No," Harry called back, ignoring Snape's questioning gaze. "I think it's a teacher from that school!"
"What school?" Harry turned to see Aunt Petunia walking towards the door, scrubbing a dish with a sponge. "What do you-" She froze, and the dish slipped from her fingers and shattered on the floor.
"Good afternoon, Tuney," Snape said, and Harry fought the urge to laugh as Aunt Petunia's face went at least four shades paler.
"S-severus!? What on Earth are you doing here?"
"I'm here to pick up the Potter boy and help him buy supplies for Hogwarts," Snape replied, with only a hint of disdain when mentioning Harry.
"Hogwarts-but-what-we didn't receive a letter!" Aunt Petunia sputtered.
"I did," Harry chimed in. "I took it to my cupboard and opened it."
"Your cupboard?" Snape asked, and Aunt Petunia went even paler, if at all possible.
"Who's that?" Harry groaned as Uncle Vernon's voice drifted over from the end of the hall. At his voice, Aunt Petunia's resolve seemed to harden, and she drew herself up to her full height (which wasn't much, but her neck made up the difference).
"He will not be going!" She exclaimed. "He will not be going to that school of yours!"
"What school is this?" Uncle Vernon asked, going to stand next to his wife. "It better not be that freak school you told me about!"
"'Freak school'?" Snape asked as if unable to believe his ears.
"Indeed," Aunt Petunia sniffed. "Your school for freaks. We've tried long and hard to stamp the magic out of that boy, and I will not have you ruin all our progress!"
"You-" Snape, took a step back, horrified, but quickly regained his posture. "I will be taking the boy shopping, and you cannot legally stop me. It was his parents wish that he attend Hogwarts, and so he shall. Any forceful opposition would not be wise." Aunt Petunia looked cowed, but Uncle Vernon's face turned a deep shade of puce. Oh no.
"HE WILL NOT BE GOING!" Uncle Vernon bellowed.
"YES I WILL!" it took Harry a moment to realize that the reply had come from him. He also realized that he was shaking. Uncle Vernon froze, eyes bulging, and then with a resounding cry, he leaped forward and fastened his hands around Harry's neck. Harry struggled for a moment, choking, before Uncle Vernon jumped back, letting out a startled cry. Harry looked down at his shirt sleeve and realized that Fawkes had slithered out, and was hissing at Uncle Vernon ferociously.
"Fawkes, don't!" Harry gasped, not realizing that he'd spoken in Parseltongue. Snape's face paled, but he quickly regained control and whipped out his wand.
"Do not handle my student in such a way," Snape hissed, not unlike how Fawkes sounded a few moments earlier. "We will be going now. Quickly, Mr. Potter." Harry nodded and rushed out the door, ignoring the inhuman screeching of Aunt Petunia and the incoherent yelling of Uncle Vernon. Snape slammed the door, and that was the end of that.
Harry took several deep breaths and turned to Snape.
"Sorry about that," He said. "My relatives aren't very fond of magic."
"That," Snape said, wrinkling his nose, "Is an understatement."
"Well, it's nice to meet you," Harry made an effort to be polite, even though inside he was dying of laughter. That was fantastic! Ow, my throat. He rubbed at it, wincing. Snape noticed, and his eyes grew darker.
"Do they always strangle you when you disagree with them?"
"Well, I don't normally yell, sir."
"That's not a no."
"It's not a yes, either, sir."
They stared at each other for a few moments, before Snape sighed.
"Come along; we need to be done with your shopping by sunset. I have a lot of work to do."
"What's your name? I never learned it."
"You may call me Professor Snape, Potter. I'm a teacher at Hogwarts."
"I sort of figured that," Harry did his best to act like a curious child. "Um, what exactly is Hogwarts, sir? The letter said that I had magic, and that I'd been accepted, but it didn't say much else."
"Did your relatives never explain this to you?" Snape's tone was incredulous, and Harry couldn't help but feel a spark of annoyance.
"Well, no. You saw how they reacted when you came here. They've spent most of their time trying to convince me magic didn't exist."
"Of course they did," Snape sighed. "Come on, then, Mr. Potter. I will explain on the way."
-)0(-
They ended up taking the Knight Bus, much to Harry's chagrin. He could understand why, but wondered, as he flew forward in his seat and smacked against the window, if they couldn't have just flown there instead.
"Be careful, Potter!" Snape snapped for the umpteenth time. He dragged Harry back into his seat by the collar.
"Sorry," Harry replied sheepishly. "Anyway, you were saying?"
"Right. You are a Potter, which means there will be money in the vaults of Gringotts that you can use for your schooling. I would advise you to spend carefully; your trust account will only have as much per year as you may need for schooling and a moderate amount of pocket change. Understand?"
"Yes sir."
"Make no mistake; we are going to Diagon Alley only for school supplies. If you want to get treats or fancy spellbooks, you'll have to go another time."
"Yes sir. Um. . ." Harry trailed off nervously. He wanted to get some actual muggle clothes, so he could be taken seriously, but would Snape really allow that? And his glasses weren't the right prescription at all; he'd had them adjusted during sixth year last time, but it would be nice to be able to see before then this time.
"Yes?" Snape prompted, and Harry realized that he'd been silent for too long.
"I was just wondering if I could get some clothes of my own," Harry said. "The only stuff I own are Dudley's hand-me-downs, and they don't fit me very well." Snape looked him up and down, clearly noting the holes, patches and stains in Harry's very oversized garments.
"Very well," Snape conceded calmly, but Harry noticed how his hand on the armrest turned white-knuckled. No doubt he's pissed about how I've been treated by the Dursleys, Harry thought. I wonder how much he'll yell once he returns to Dumbledore. He'd never really forgiven Dumbledore for leaving him with his aunt and uncle, despite everything.
When the Knight Bus arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry leaped off with no small amount of relief. Snape looked remarkably unfazed, and beckoned Harry to follow with a casual wave of his hand.
Entering the Leaky Cauldron gave Harry a sharp pang of nostalgia. It'd been a long time since he'd seen the inside of it this bright, and this full of people. In fact, the last time he'd seen this place it'd been a smouldering pile of ash on the ground.
"Afternoon, Professor!" Tom the barkeeper greeted as they approached. "What'll you be having today?"
"Nothing, I'm afraid. I'm helping one of the students with their school shopping." Tom leaned over to get a closer look, and Harry cringed, and felt Fawkes stir where he was hidden in Harry's oversized sleeve. Oh, here we go.
"My word," Tom whispered. "It cannot be Harry Potter?" The whole bar went silent, but Snape quickly intervened.
"I'm afraid not," He said, and Harry felt a rush of relief. "Now, we really must be going." He grabbed Harry's arm and quickly steered him into the back area, where the entrance to Diagon Alley was located.
"Why did he know my name?" Harry asked, pretending to be confused. Snape paused for a moment, then shook his head.
"I will explain after we finish shopping." Snape whipped out his wand and started tapping the bricks. Harry went to ask another question, but conceded that, while he did want to act curious, annoying his professor was not his ultimate goal.
Then the bricks opened, and Harry gasped in shock.
"Welcome, Mr. Potter, to Diagon Alley."
A/N: And that's the end of that! I know my chapters are rather short, but I'm trying my best to get the chapters out quickly. If I make them any longer, I know I'll end up procrastinating writing them.Next up, Diagon Alley!