Harry followed Professor Snape through the door in silence, holding his book close to his chest. Blood was rushing through his ears, almost deafening, and he forced himself to breathe because oh god, he'd just left the Dursleys.

He'd barely registered how many streets they'd walked, until the Professor turned and stopped him with a hand on his shoulder, guiding into alleyway he hadn't noticed. Harry stopped, looking around. Was there something he was supposed to be seeing here?

"Mister Potter, if you'd hold onto my arm, we'll be apparating to Diagon Alley," Professor Snape paused, and before Harry could ask, he explained, "Diagon Alley is wizards' main shopping location, where we'll be getting your supplies. Apparition is… Somewhat similar to teleportation, though I'll warn you it's a rather unpleasant feeling at first." Harry nodded silently, and grabbed the Professor's wrist.

And suddenly, Professor Snape twisted, he gripped harder, and everything went black, his eyes were being forced back into his skull, his ears pushing into his head, his lungs squeezing tighter, tighter in his chest as his ribs crushed themselves around him and he choked, hard, and then-

He could breath, and he gasped, keeling over as he pressed his eyes shut. Unpleasant? Understatement of the century.

It was a few seconds before Harry realised he wasn't in Little Whinging anymore, and Professor Snape was holding out a vial of something purple. "Anti-nausea potion," he stated, "Drink it all in one, if you can."

For something that was supposed to stop nausea, the potion tasted horrible, but the stirring in his stomach calmed, and Harry finally looked around where they were standing. He instantly wished he had another pair of eyes to stop and stare as they started walking past each shop. The sun shone bright on a stack of cauldrons, sat under a sign that read Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible, in front of Potage's Cauldron Shop. A few shops down, he watched as a woman outside the red-painted Slugs' and Jiggers' Apothecary yell, "Frog's eyes! Two galleons a pound, fully preserved! Getcha frogs eyes here!" He turned his head again, and by his ear, a raven screeched, sitting on a pole outside the Magical Menagerie. The Alley was full of colour, bright robes and lights flashing in every direction he turned, and he couldn't quite hide a grin.

"Wow."

This was brilliant!

"It's wonderful, Mister Potter," Professor Snape interrupted his thought abruptly, before pointing to the end of the path, "But you won't be getting any of it unless you get money for your supplies, first."

"Oh." He looked around wistfully, and then quickly followed the Professor, dodging the crowds of people shopping. He didn't want to leave for even a second.

At the end of Diagon Alley was a building he was shocked to not have noticed at first; it was snowy white, towering over all the other shops by a few feet; between the first and second floor, the words Gringotts Bank were carved; underneath, its doors were burnished gold, and he noticed a polished plaque to the side of them that read:

Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.

He read it over again, and shivered slightly.

"Goblins don't like to be crossed," the Professor murmured just loud enough for him to hear, and Harry jolted. Goblins?

The doors opened as they walked up to them, and oh. Goblins.

Sitting on high stools behind a long counter that circled the entrance hall, or coming and going through the many doors around the walls, were men a few inches shorter than Harry. They each had a swarthy face, and at least half wore a pointed beard that came down to their chest; he also noticed as they walked further into the room that they had abnormally long fingers. The room itself was lavish: each door was silver, and the floors and walls were made of marble, partially covered by elaborate tapestries and carpets; the desk had creatures and patterns carved into the wood, polished to perfection, and in front of some of the goblins were gold and brass scales, weighing coins, at others sat piles of gemstones.

Professor Snape strode to one of the free goblins and bowed his head slightly in greeting, and Harry copied him (just in case he was supposed to, he wasn't exactly sure). He took out a key from one of his pockets. "Good morning," he greeted simply, "We've come to withdraw some money from Harry Potter's vault."

The goblin took the key, inspecting it for a moment. "That seems to be in order."

"I'll also need to return later to another vault." He handed over a letter stamped with a wax seal, and Harry couldn't help but be curious. "Hogwarts' business. Nothing you need to worry about, Mister Potter."

Handing the letter back to Professor Snape, the goblin nodded. "Very well. We'll expect you later today. Griphook!" he suddenly called out, and Harry jumped as the goblin in question walked over to them. "Mister Potter wishes to visit his vault." The first goblin handed the golden key back to Harry, and gestured for them to follow behind Griphook. They walked behind him through one of the silver doors, and unlike the entrance hall, the passageway was narrow and torches lit stone walls, rather than marble. It sloped steeply downwards, and for a moment, Harry wondered what it must be like for people who couldn't walk, and used a wheelchair. Maybe that wasn't a problem for wizards.

He brushed the thought off as they reached a pair of railway tracks, and at Griphook's whistle, a small cart came hurtling down the tracks towards them. They clambered in, and before Harry could sit down properly, the cart shot off. It twisted through a maze of twisting passageways, and he tried to remember the pathway, but after the seventh left he admitted defeat. The cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering - Magic, he reminded himself.

He could barely keep his eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time, the cold air rushing past them making them water and sting, but in each of those few seconds he could see something new - stalactites and stalagmites growing from the ceiling and floor; goblins striking pickaxes at unmarked cliffs of rock where he briefly saw glimmers of gems; once, a massive burst of flame from deep below them, but they turned again before he could see the cause.

When the cart at last stopped at last near a small door, he noticed the Professor pull out a vial of purple liquid he'd given him earlier, and down it in one gulp, almost immediately reducing the green in his pallor. Harry could understand - he was dizzy just thinking about the cart ride.

Griphook walked up past them, taking the key from Harry's hand when he offered it, and unlocked the door. There was a glimmer of light, and a billow of green smoke as it slowly opened, and Harry gasped as it cleared. Inside were mounds of gold, silver, and bronze coins.

"This can't all be mine," Harry said softly, "How much even is there?

Griphook pressed a strange button on the inside of the door, and read something he couldn't make out. "Five hundred galleons, to be refilled to that amount on January first of each year until you come of age."

Even Professor Snape looked slightly staggered by that, and Harry asked again, "Ho-How much of that do I need for my things for Hogwarts?"

"Approximately three hundred galleons - the gold coins—" Griphook added quickly as he started to interrupt—"would cover costs for the highest quality supplies and any… extra items you'd wish to buy. It's a standard amount for trust funds in Ancient and Noble families."

Harry swallowed slightly. That couldn't be right.

Professor Snape put a hand on his arm. "Breathe, Potter." It took more effort than he thought was healthy to do so, but he nodded and complied. Glancing around the vault, Harry noticed a small velvet bag on a small shelf on the wall, with a simple note above it. Linked - Potter Trust Vault.

"Mister Griphook?" He pointed over to the bag once he had his attention, "What's that for?"

The goblin grinned, and to Harry it seemed somewhat proud. "Ah. That was invented by my grandfather; it gives you access to your vault from anywhere, so you don't need to carry coins around with you." He nodded at Harry approvingly, "You're welcome to use it. Most are to oblivious to even notice they have one."

He smiled slightly in return, and took the bag from the shelf, and Griphook locked the vault behind them as they stepped out, handing the key back to Harry once they were in the cart again. A few dizzying minutes later, and he and Professor Snape stood back outside in the sunlight.

At the Professor's recommendation, they stopped off first at a shop that sold trunks. He let Harry go look around on his own, claiming he was avoiding the crowds, to his delight. For once in his life, Harry could fit in and buy things for himself , to make him happy, rather than relying on the Dursley's. He smiled to himself. Harry had the chance to make an impression, here. No one, apart from Professor Snape and some of the goblins, knew who he was yet. He didn't have Dudley a step ahead of him in school, spreading rumours and lies before he could talk to a single person. Now, Harry had the chance to be powerful.

'Highest quality supplies', Griphook had said. Well, he might as well make an impression.

Ten minutes later, Harry walked out of Tormund's Trunks and Transport , holding a 'best-of-the-range, multi-compartment' trunk in his pocket. One of the owners, a friendly man called Caelus, had told him the trunk would shrink and grow at the tap of his wand, and had been happy to demonstrate so he wouldn't have to carry it around the Alley for the rest of the day. He loved magic. The Professor didn't seem surprised when he walked out carrying nothing, so he guessed it was something that wizards and witches did normally. As they walked to their next shop - for him to get him robes (and a new set of clothes, he thought, remembering how suddenly he'd left the Dursleys)- Harry finally spoke again:

"Can you tell me about Hogwarts?"

Professor Snape sighed, but he didn't seem annoyed. "Hogwarts is split into four houses based off its four founders: Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin. They sleep in the same areas, work together for lessons and house points; they become your family at school. When you enter Hogwarts for the first time, you'll be sorted into one of the houses."

"Is it random?"

"The sorting? No. It's based off your character, or at least, that's what everyone believes." He paused in thought. "Ravenclaw values learning and the pursuit of knowledge. Hufflepuff values loyalty, dedication and hard work. Gryffindor's value bravery, chivalry, and courage. Slytherin values ambition, adaptability, and intelligence." Professor Snape smiled slightly, and Harry got the feeling that it was his favourite house.

"Were you in Slytherin?"

"Yes. I'm currently its head of house." As they approached Twilfitt and Tattings, the Professor sat down at a table nearby, pulling a book out of his pocket, and Harry started into the shop. "Take your time."

Professor Snape was definitely right to have brought a book with him - twenty minutes after Harry had first walked in, Madam Helena had barely finished up taking his measurements. He was immensely glad they'd told him to pick up his clothes later on in the day, rather than wait there for them; he had no doubt it would be hours before he'd leave, otherwise, since he'd ordered as many everyday clothes as he thought he could with the money he had.

So he breathed a heavy sigh of relief once he stepped back out into the fresh air, and started walking with the Professor to Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment a few doors down. He pulled out his supply list, looking over it once more before he bought a set of scales, parchment, quills and ink, a few crystal phials, and a telescope. The last one confused him slightly. What would he need a telescope of all things for?

Thankfully, Professor Snape seemed to notice his confusion. "It's for Astronomy. You'll be studying it up until fifth year."

"And the other subjects?" Harry felt a little stupid. Everyone else probably knew all of this already.

"Charms; Herbology - which is working with magical plants; Defense against the Dark Arts; History of Magic; Transfiguration - changing one object into another, and potions."

So they didn't do any normal subjects? No maths or English? No science?

He just got to learn magic. And Harry was definitely okay with that.

They stopped for a moment at the cauldron shop Harry had first seen when they arrived to pick up the cauldron the list asked for, and then they visited the Apothecary. The woman he remembered from earlier was still loudly advertising Frogs eyes, two galleons a pound, and Harry smiled at her as they walked in. The place was interesting enough to make up for its pungent smell, something between bad eggs and rotting vegetables. Barrels stood all around the floor, labels on the handles reading things like Bat Spleens, Beetle Eyes, and Horned Slugs, around the walls, plant were stacked on shelves that reached the ceiling, from which hung massive bags of different feathers. He couldn't help but stare as he looked around. There had to be hundreds of different items around just this room and loads of different ways to use them.

Professor Snape eventually pointed him to a wall that read HOGWARTS in large letters, and as he went to pick up two of the first-year sets - just in case he broke anything in the first - he noticed a small selection of real unicorn horns.

Magic, he reminded himself again.

Their second-to-last stop was Flourish and Blotts - the bookshop Harry had been looking forward to seeing all day. The window showed a few more expensive books; gold-embossed spellbooks that were half his height, and stories with detailed illustrations that waved as he looked at them. Professor Snape followed him into the shop, rather than staying outside, and Harry picked up a basket by the door simply labelled 'featherweight' as he searched at first for the books on his supply list. Just like in the Apothecary, there was a stand that held just books for Hogwarts, and he put a stack into his basket before continuing to explore. The shelves were stuffed full of books of all different shapes and sizes: from tiny, silk covered books the size of a postage stamp, to massive, leather-bound ones that resembled a paving slab and took up a shelf to themselves.

Flourish and Blotts had to be at least twice the size of the library back near the Dursleys. It was three stories high, and bustling with people trying to dodge one another as they moved from one floor to the next up the narrow staircases. He hovered over Curses and Countercurses by Professor Vindictus Veridian, and put it in his basket, before moving to another shelf of books curiously. The one in front of his face read, Ancient and Noble Families of the Wizengamot.

Ancient and Noble family… Wasn't that something Griphook had said about him?

It went into his basket, alongside Wizarding Bloodlines, Magical Runes and Symbols, and Understanding Potions: Beginner to Expert.

"If you're trying to catch up, you might want to take this one, as well." Harry jumped as a boy his age walked up behind him, holding a book out. Wixen Religion - Traditions Lost. That made sense, he guessed; he wasn't going to be able to fit in with wizards if he didn't know about their culture.

"Thank you."

"Not a problem." As he took the book, the boy gave him an approving nod and held out his hand. "Blaise Zabini."

Harry smiled slightly as he took his hand in return. "Harry Potter." Zabini looked over his face for a moment, then hummed.

"You better study up then, Potter." He pointed Harry to a shelf on the other side of the floor, and he noticed Zabini had an accent he couldn't quite place. "You might want to begin there, there's only a month 'til Hogwarts begins." He walked up to a woman who'd been calling him, and then turned to say, "I'll see you around, Potter."

Harry stared after him for a moment. Zabini seemed nice, but also had a similar attitude to the goblins, one that seemed to say, 'I know something you don't'. Maybe it was a good idea to try and get on his good side, then?

He walked over to the books he'd pointed out to Harry, and raised an eyebrow at the titles. A Guide to Magical Society, read the first, and the other in the stack was titled Poise, Polish, and Presence: An Heir's Guide to Etiquette. Had he really been that obvious? He needed to change that.

Harry pushed a few more books into the basket, and finally forced himself downstairs to pay when he realised how many he'd picked out. Professor Snape raised an eyebrow when he started putting them all out onto the counter, and the woman manning the till seemed to mirror his expression. But he handed over the galleons quickly, taking one of the Owl Order forms he saw on the counter, and the Professor unshrank his trunk long enough for Harry to stack his books in one of the compartments he'd decided would be his own library of sorts.

He left Flourish and Blotts feeling happier than he'd been in months.

A/N: Hey! Thanks for reading! Chapters from here on out will probably be closer to this long (over 2k words), which will probably take longer but I think it's worth it. If you enjoyed this, I'd really appreciate you taking a second to comment, it really makes my day! Thank you!
-Natalie