Chapter 5

When Barty put Harry Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire, Voldemort didn't expect much to come of it. As far as Voldemort was concerned, Potter was dead, burned to a crisp in the house of his muggle kin. All the official reports came to this conclusion and Voldemort didn't have any reason to think otherwise.

And yet…they'd never found the boy's body, and that bothered Voldemort. Potter's three relatives had left behind blackened corpses, according to the reports, so why hadn't Potter? On top of that, Voldemort heard from several sources that Dumbledore also didn't seem convinced that Potter had perished and was still keeping an eye out for the boy at the very least.

Then there was the prophecy to consider, even though Voldemort as of yet didn't know what it said aside from the first line. But Dumbledore certainly had put weight behind it, urging the Potters to hide themselves away to protect the potential prophecy child.

Of course, that hadn't worked out so very well for them in the end, but neither had it for Voldemort, and all because the killing curse bounced off the boy as though it had suddenly been transfigured into a rubber ball.

No, all things considered, Voldemort couldn't dismiss the remote possibility that Potter was still alive somewhere in some capacity, no matter how convincing the reports of his death were. And thus he'd come up with a plan, thanks mostly to Barty, to infiltrate Hogwarts and keep a very close eye on Dumbledore to see what the old man was up to when it came to finding Harry Potter.

It was Barty's idea to impersonate Alastor Moody. A risky gamble, because impersonating anyone for a long stretch of time was exhausting for many reasons, and it also increased the risk of being discovered. The longer one spent time around others, the more chances one had of making mistakes and being found out. But Barty had known Moody since he was a child, had grown up around the man since his father worked with him in a few capacities at the Ministry, and his mother had been Moody's second cousin once removed. Therefore Moody had been a regular guest in the Crouch household and Barty had spent a lifetime watching the man and learning his behaviours.

If anyone could impersonate Alastor Moody right under Dumbledore's nose and get away with it, it would be Barty Crouch Jr.

And then one night in September a week after Hogwarts had started, Barty had called him on the communication mirrors they used to keep in touch, and suggested smuggling Potter's name into the Goblet of Fire. Barty reasoned that if someone was keeping the boy hidden away, as some of the more interesting conspiracy theories surrounding the boy suggested was the case, then the magic of this ancient goblet would force Potter out of hiding, whether he liked it or not. Voldemort had believed this an exceptionally clever plan and given Barty permission to execute it, even if he doubted anything would come of it.

Barty had managed the job thanks to an invisibility cloak and several strong confundus charms, and now was the day that the names of the champions would be selected. Voldemort reasoned if anything out of the ordinary happened, Barty would call him on the mirror, but otherwise he put it out of his mind and focused on more important matters.

Ever since Voldemort had returned he found himself faced with many difficult choices. When he'd stolen the Philosopher's Stone right out of Hogwarts while riding on the back of Quirrell's head, he'd still been of a mind to pick up the war where he'd left it off once he got his body back. He had realized at the last moment that perhaps he shouldn't give the game away so soon that it was Voldemort who had taken the stone instead of just an ambitious, lone teacher in the form of Quirrell, and thus he'd let the three children who'd so valiantly tried to stop him live. He'd knocked them around a little, to make sure they understood that what they'd done was very foolish indeed, but he'd left them to be discovered by whomever eventually realized they were missing, convinced this would throw Dumbledore off his scent. After all, Voldemort was known for killing anyone who stood in his way.

Voldemort had then moved to his father's mansion, which he'd put in his own name right after he'd finished Hogwarts since he was the legal heir of the Riddle family. He just never registered the mansion at the ministry as being a magical dwelling and he paid the muggle caretaker a continuous salary for the upkeep of the mansion out of his family's vast wealth, even when Voldemort himself spent very little time there over the years.

While Voldemort had a real safehouse, a place no one knew about, not even his closest followers, and which was protected by every ward imaginable, he did not want to risk its discovery by bringing the Philosopher's Stone there. After all, Voldemort knew very little about the Philosopher's Stone, outside the general properties everyone had heard about. Any metal to gold, the elixir of life, that sort of thing. But Voldemort had no idea if the Flamels were capable of tracking their creation in some way.

And the last thing Voldemort wanted to do was provoke the Flamels more than he already had and meet them in a head on confrontation.

Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel were well over 600 years old. Voldemort did not want to test their knowledge and experience in duelling, especially when he himself was but a wraith stuck to the back of a man's head.

And thus he had holed up in his father's mansion for the time being, so that he could experiment with the stone as much as needed, but could also abandon it at the drop of a hat if need be. If the Flamels discovered the mansion it would be no real loss for Voldemort since his relationship to the Riddles was no great secret in certain circles. Dumbledore already know all about it, after all.

But no Flamels came breaking down his door as Voldemort, through a increasingly weakened Quirrell, spent months and months experimenting with the stone.

First getting it to give up the Elixir of Life had been challenging to say the least. While Voldemort was a very talented wizard who had studied many subjects in depth, he'd never studied alchemy beyond the basics. And getting the stone to give up its secrets required an alchemy mastery, which Voldemort had to scramble to get using second-hand books Quirrell was able to pick up in Knockturn Alley using various disguises.

Finally, by the time Voldemort got the stone to give up its precious elixir and he could now start building a ritual that would use it in his resurrection, one of his horcruxes walked through the door.

Literally walked, using a brand-new flesh and bone body.

Voldemort had been surprised, to say the least, to see his sixteen-year-old-self gazing up at him with clear judgement in his eyes. Tom Riddle wasn't impressed with what he was seeing, his older version stuck on the back of some meaningless wizard's head, barely hanging on to life. But having part of himself there, in a ready to use body, changed things.

They managed to merge Voldemort's wraith into Tom Riddle's body, melding the two soul pieces back together as one and that had been rather an eye-opener for Voldemort. Losing so much of his soul had changed him over the years, as it turned out, and not for the better. He'd become increasingly paranoid and violent and irate, and he'd lost focus on all the things he'd wanted to accomplish and instead had become obsessed with trivial matters. Gaining half of his soul back overnight certainly gave him a new perspective on pretty much everything.

Using the Elixir of Life in the ritual had also had the benefit of keeping Voldemort's new visage human, though adding an older soul to the younger body had aged the body up a good twenty years, not that this was a problem. Looking like a mature Tom Riddle, a man approaching forty, certainly helped him blend in whenever he stepped out the door, so Voldemort didn't see any problems with it.

Quirrell had barely survived the ritual of extracting Voldemort, and he probably would have perished if not for the elixir, which healed him. Voldemort then officially marked Quirrell, to gain magical control over him. Voldemort may have gained a new perspective on life, but he still wasn't stupid. He wanted his followers tied to him so he could control them as needed, simple as that.

Quirrell was beyond grateful that his life had been spared and let Voldemort use his dark mark to search out his other followers, to find out who was still out there. That's how Voldemort realized Barty was still alive and after snooping around he found him hidden away in his father's house. A little breaking and entering later and Barty was freed and could recover from being held under the imperius curse for so long. Voldemort also discovered Wormtail was still alive, but he was hiding out in Hogwarts as Voldemort realized when he tracked him down and this made Voldemort question the man's loyalties. Yes, hiding out as a rat in a large castle was probably a clever way to stay out of enemy hands, but how on earth didn't Dumbledore realize there was an Animagus hiding in the castle? Voldemort knew the wards of Hogwarts were capable of revealing such things to the headmaster, so why hadn't Dumbledore picked up on it? Perhaps he had, but chose to ignore it for whatever reason, and that was exactly the reason Voldemort hadn't summoned Wormtail just yet. He couldn't risk Wormtail having struck some sort of deal with Dumbledore to spare his life, and the last thing Voldemort wanted was for Dumbledore to get any kind of confirmation that Voldemort had regained a body and was back to full strength.

No, it was imperative that Voldemort stay hidden while rebuilding his army and continue his plans for domination of the wizarding world.

And therein lay the problem. Ever since regaining half of his soul, Voldemort wasn't quite sure anymore what he wanted to do. Yes, he still wanted to rule the wizarding world and shake it up a little, do away with all those restrictive laws concerning dark magic and rituals and such, but Voldemort realized that perhaps open warfare wasn't the way to go about accomplishing that. It had cost far to many lives on both sides in the end. So Voldemort needed a new plan but that took some time to put together.

So in the meantime Barty got to spy on Dumbledore while Voldemort figured out what he wanted out of his life now that he could live it properly again. Aside from world domination, because that was a given. It was also the reason Voldemort hadn't yet called his followers to him. He honestly wasn't sure yet what to say to them, how to present his current wishes and ambitions. And so for the time being Voldemort focussed on catching up with all the news, learning any new spells that had been invented over the last decade, further investigate the workings of the Philosopher's Stone and figure out in what capacity he wanted to rule the world. The rest would come later, after they finally figured out what had happened to Harry Potter.

That faithful day, Voldemort had a simple dinner, prepared by Quirrell who had some talent with cooking spells, and afterward Voldemort decided to call it an early night, have a hot bath and then spent an hour or two reading in bed before finally succumbing to sleep. Quirrell had proven most useful, doing household chores and running errands while disguised, since he had been officially charged with the theft of the Philosopher's Stone and most of the wizarding world would be on the lookout for him.

But before Voldemort could make it to his bathroom, the wards around the mansion flared up, indicating a known visitor. Voldemort had a good idea who it would be, and he remained in the sitting room while Quirrell answered the door like the good servant he was.

Barty came clunking into the room, still wearing Moody's body. "Apologies, my Lord, but I had no time to wait for the potion to wear off. I've got a memory you'll want to see right away."

Voldemort gestured at Barty to follow him to his office, where he kept the small pensieve he'd retrieved from his safehouse. He still didn't trust to bring the Philosopher's Stone there, so he'd simply collected a few useful items from his home and put them in the mansion for the time being.

As Voldemort and Barty gathered around the pensieve that stood on a wooden pedestal in the corner of the office, Barty put the tip of his wand against his temple and quickly pulled out a silvery strand which he dumped into the pensieve without any pause.

"Enjoy, my Lord," Barty said, Moody's scarred face creasing up in obvious humour.

Voldemort immediately lowered his face to the pensieve and before long he found himself standing behind Barty at the teacher's table in Hogwarts' great hall while Dumbledore read out the names of the tournament champions.

When Harry Potter's name was called, things suddenly got interesting. Very interesting.

Voldemort watched with bated breath as a man appeared, with a large bird and some sort of beast by his side. Dumbledore all but fell over himself once he realized Harry Potter had returned and Voldemort followed the procession through Hogwarts and watched quietly as Potter answered some questions in Dumbledore's office before everyone called it a night.

"Well," Voldemort said, once he straightened himself up as he pulled out of the pensieve. "That certainly is a surprise."

Barty laughed, a particularly harsh sound coming from Moody's throat. "My Lord, if that man is a light wizard, I'll eat Moody's peg leg."

Chuckling, Voldemort gestured for Barty to sit down in front of his desk while Voldemort slowly sank down in his comfortable chair behind it. "Yes, the magic Potter used certainly didn't feel light. Nor did he seem particularly thrilled to be back in our world."

Barty's eyes widened, as much as they could around the fake one Moody used. "Imagine, being pulled into a different world as a child. I wonder what that world was like, and what sort of magic Potter got to learn there. Do you think perhaps he'd be willing to share his knowledge?"

"Ravenclaw," Voldemort said, making it sound like a fond accusation. "But I agree with you that the idea of alternate worlds, of whole new dimensions is an intriguing one. But also a slightly worrying one, considering that one of our magical children got stolen away like that. Who is to say they won't do that again, or perhaps they have done it many times before without us noticing."

Barty nodded with a thoughtful frown. "A child goes missing…no one would suspect it was a kidnapping across worlds."

"Barty," Voldemort said, sitting up a little and giving his follower a serious look. "I want you to get close to Potter. Offer to guide him, teach him, play it off as wanting to be sure people won't end up kidnapped again."

"Oh yeah, I can make that work," Barty said with full confidence.

"And then find out where his loyalties lie, what sort of magic he's learned and how he feels about the situation in the wizarding world."

"Of course, my Lord. I'll get to the bottom of everything concerning Harry Potter."

"Good man." Voldemort waved Barty off, who gave him a short bow before clunking out of Voldemort's office.

Well, well, would wonders never cease. Harry Potter was alive, a grown man, possessed knowledge of unknown types of magic and might very well be a dark wizard. Voldemort smiled as he realized his life had just become infinitely more entertaining.

ooooooo

The first thing Severus found lying on his dining table the next morning was a note from Minerva, instructing him to write down a detailed history of the wizarding war with Voldemort, ending with the Potters' murders. Severus snorted, downed a hangover cure, and sent a note back to Minerva that he'd simply direct Potter to the history section of the school library where the man would be able to find many works detailing the war and that way Severus wouldn't have to waste hours on writing down information that was already publicly available.

Then he had a simple breakfast in his room of oatmeal and coffee so black it made the Dark Lord seem like an apostle of the light. Severus refused to set foot in the great hall that morning and be subjected to a few hundred children all screeching about Potter's spawn's unexpected return.

Severus got dressed in his usual attire, ignored Minerva's new note insisting he write down something for Potter from a more personal perspective instead of subjecting the poor boy to those impersonal history texts, and left his quarters in search of the wayward man.

Thankfully, he didn't have to look long or far, and he found Potter standing in the entrance hall, practically cornered by Moody who was probably trying to subject the man to a strip search at the very least.

"I see your point," Potter said to Moody, just as Severus stepped up to them. "But I assure you the ritual used to summon children across dimensions has been destroyed."

"Well, that's good to hear, laddie, but I would still appreciate a more in depth talk about any more potential security concerns." Moody's fake eye briefly spun in its socket to focus on Severus, but before long it settled back on Potter. Well, apparently Severus wasn't considered much of a threat anymore to the crazed Auror now that a mystery man had fallen into their school from an entirely different world. Severus supposed that having to put up with Potter's spawn might actually have an upside after all. Would wonders never seize?

"I would be happy to have a meeting with you at a later date. But for now my escort has arrived to accompany me to the bank." Potter gave Severus a brief nod, which Severus staunchly ignored.

"Then come find me when you're back in the castle." And with that, Moody limped away in the direction of the great hall. A whole gaggle of children had gathered on the periphery of the entrance hall, kept back probably by the luminous stares of Potter's beast. Whispers echoed around them and before Severus could hurry Potter out of the castle, one brave student came forward, a copy of the Daily Prophet clutched firmly in her hand.

It was Hermione Granger. Severus doubted anyone would be surprised by this, seeing as Granger seemed to have made sticking her nose in other people's business into an artform.

"Mr Potter," Granger said, taking a few very cautious steps towards Potter's spawn. Potter's beast shifted positions where it sat beside the man but made no sound. Still, Granger stopped approaching at once. Smart girl.

"Call me Harry," Potter said, because naturally he was the type to do away with any form of formal boundaries between students and the adult staff around them.

Granger's smile was huge. "Okay, Harry. Hi, I'm Hermione Granger. Is it true you've been stuck in a different world altogether?" As though it were a piece of evidence, Granger raised the paper in her hand and held it up to Potter's face. Big black letters on the front page announced Potter's return, though how they'd gotten the information about Potters whereabouts was anyone's guess. Either it was the portraits in Dumbledore's office or Moody had contacted the ministry with Potter's story as soon as their meeting ended the previous night.

"Yes, it is true. I attended a school for sorcerers there in my younger years." Potter seemed perfectly happy and willing to indulge the riffraff around him, but Severus certainly wasn't.

Granger perked up. "A school? What subjects did they teach there?"

"We must be off," Severus interrupted without apology. "Potter, this way." And without waiting on either one of them, Severus swept out of the entrance hall and onto the castle grounds. The weather was crisp in early November and Severus pulled the collar of his cloak closed. Potter was indeed not far behind him, but he did halt as soon as he made it to the path leading off school grounds.

"Keket," Potter said while giving the beast beside him a small stroke across its massive head. "Why don't you go find a location for our home in there." Potter gestured towards the Forbidden Forest in the distance. "And I'm sure you'll be able to find something to eat in there as well."

"The unicorns are off-limits," Severus said before he could stop himself, but he would be damned if Potter's beast decimated their unicorn herds. Severus needed them for potions. "And the centaurs will not go down without a very vicious fight. But there are giant spiders in there you can eat, as many as you like." All the while that Severus was talking the beast had appeared the listen to him very carefully, its head tilted, and the moment Severus was done it released an excited clicking sound that ended in a rumble before it loped off towards the tree line.

"I'm glad there is something in there for her to eat. She prefers to hunt instead of accepting dead meat, I'm afraid." Potter gazed after the beast for a few moments before falling into step with Severus. He was missing his staff and his bird, but he was wearing his ridiculous fur cloak, as though he were some medieval king. Then again, this was Potter's spawn. It was expected the man was conceited at the very least.

Severus nodded in reply but held his tongue, not in the mood to make small-talk with Potter. He was here to do Albus' bidding and he could be polite up to a point, but he wasn't interested in more than that. Well, perhaps he also appreciated the opportunity to satiate his own curiosity when it came to this mystery man.

For example, Potter spoke with a strange accent. It was faint and unplaceable, but it was there. That suggested that Potter perhaps hadn't spoken English a lot of the time he was in the other world. In fact, it made sense that the dominant language in the other world hadn't been English at all. So how did Potter still speak it so well, and even claimed to know how to read and write in it when he'd been kidnapped when he was only four and hadn't attended any formal schools yet?

Severus decided to put this little discovery to the test. "Your English is very good for someone who hasn't spoken it in so long."

Potter blinked while glancing at Severus and then his lips curled up in the tiniest smile, as though he was terribly amused by Severus' question. "The dominant language we spoke was Santireen, yes, but I was not the only English speaker there. Others taught me to read and write and we kept our native language alive by speaking in it while in private."

Severus could detect no lie from the way Potter spoke and it did make sense that more children who spoke English might have ended up in that place.

"How will we travel to the bank?" Potter asked when Severus didn't say anything else.

"Apparition."

"Ah. Am I to assume it resembles teleportation?" Potter asked with a slight frown that made him almost look worried.

Severus kept his face straight while he was smirking on the inside. It seemed Potter wasn't much of a brave Gryffindor after all. James Potter must be rolling in his grave. And just like that, Severus' whole day was already made and it wasn't even nine yet. "It resembles teleportation, yes. I will apparate you. Did you not have any kind of magical transportation in your previous world?"

"Oh, we did," Potter said with a smile that was both fond and distant. "Mostly we travelled through portals, but they were quite time-consuming to set up with runic circles. A great option though for transporting larger groups of people. We also used teleportation, which was quicker than a portal, but also several times more uncomfortable."

Severus nodded in understanding, unable to supress his curiosity about those portals. He refused to ask Potter any questions, though. The sooner he was rid of Potter's spawn, the better. "I'll be gentle, I promise," Severus said in his smoothest tone, lying through his teeth. He was going to give Potter a ride to remember, naturally.

"Oh, don't bother," Potter said with a hoarse chuckle. "I don't mind it rough once in a while."

And just like that Severus was blinking and wondering if he'd just heard Potter right. When he glanced at Potter he received a wink in return and Severus' good mood soured instantly. He was not going to flirt with Potter's spawn, no matter he had Lily's eyes. The man looked like Hagrid who'd been washed at too high a temperature and had shrunk in the process, and Severus was not at all attracted to facial hair of any kind and none of that even mattered, because this was James Potter's brood and Severus would cut off his own cock and eat it before he ever even considered touching the man.

Of course, a few minutes of loaded silence later they arrived at the gates and once they stepped through them Severus was forced to place his hand on Potter's furry shoulder right in the lion's mane.

Had anyone even thought to delouse the man? Perhaps they should send him to Poppy at the first opportunity. Deworming him probably wouldn't be a bad idea either.

Severus didn't bother giving Potter a warning, but simply apparated them to the apparition point just inside Diagon Alley. Potter stayed on his feet, Severus had to at least give him that, and only shook his head a time or two before gawping at their new surroundings.

"Thanks for going easy on me," Potter said with another wink, while Severus had done no such thing. "That wasn't bad at all." Potter started walking without even waiting for a silently fuming Severus. "What a quaint shopping street. Where is the bank exactly?"

"That large white building at the end of the street," Severus said with a faint sneer. "With the huge letters spelling out Gringotts Bank on the side."

"Ah! There it is indeed." Potter's grin was huge and infuriating. "Afterwards, I think I will visit some bookstores. I am aware I have lots of catching up to do."

Severus wanted to deny the man as they marched through Diagon Alley, but couldn't really come up with any reason to forbid Potter from doing some shopping. Besides, Albus would probably burst into bitter tears if Severus denied his precious Potter anything. "As long as you also visit Ollivander's for a wand," Severus finally said as they reached the bottom of Gringotts' marble stairs. "Headmaster's orders."

Potter shrugged as he climbed the stairs. "I doubt I need a wand, but it won't hurt to take a look at some of them."

"That's the spirit," Severus mumbled as they reached the large, wooden doors and the security goblin gave them both a long, long look. Particularly Potter was subjected to some intense scrutiny, which he underwent without any comment. Finally the goblin waved them through.

"Just state your name at the counter and the goblins will do the rest," Severus said while he moved over to the visitor chairs on the left and sat down. Hopefully this wouldn't take hours and hours. It shouldn't, unless this man was a very stupid imposter who thought he could fool the goblins. If that were the case, Severus would probably receive his head in a bag to take back to Dumbledore.

That thought certainly put a smile on Severus face, but as he watched Potter follow a goblin to the offices in the back he knew Potter was most likely the real thing. Unfortunately.

Many long minutes passed while Severus observed the people milling around him, waiting for Potter to return. The goblins would probably ask for some blood to verify his identity before unlocking the Potter accounts. Severus had no idea how much gold James Potter had left his only child, nor did he care all that much. The Potters had been well-off, but not outrageously rich like the Malfoys or the Blacks.

And who knew what Potter's economical status had been in his previous home? He might have been a very rich man there and that expanded satchel hanging from his belt could be overflowing with gold. Or he might have been a pauper, who knew?

"Severus, so nice to see you here." Narcissa Malfoy had sidled up to him without Severus even noticing. See, Potter's spawn was already ruining Severus' senses, distracting him when he wasn't even in the room.

"Narcissa, lovely to see you, as always," Severus replied with his smoothest voice, not at all surprised Narcissa had found her way to the epicentre of the most important news of the day. Severus was convinced Narcissa had bribed many people, goblins and wizards alike, to keep her abreast of any interesting news as it happened, including Harry bloody Potter visiting Gringotts.

Narcissa sat down in the chair beside his, smoothing her long, blue gown down around her thighs. "Is it true, what was written in the Prophet today? Has Potter really returned?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Severus said with a distasteful sneer at the mere memory of the man. "He's here, taking care of the Potter account."

Narcissa blinked a few times while looking from Severus to the offices and back. "And what sort of man is he?"

"He resembles Hagrid a great deal, including his appreciation for violent pets."

"Indeed," Narcissa said, voice full of fascination. "So he's nothing like James Potter then?"

Severus wanted to claim that Potter the younger was exactly like Potter the elder, just as arrogant and conceited, but he also knew that wasn't really the case. No, Narcissa had come to the right conclusion. "No, he's not. Doesn't even resemble him much in looks, but that might also be because most of his looks are hidden by far too much hair."

Narcissa chuckled quietly, nose wrinkled in amusement. "The story is rather interesting, isn't it? Raised in an entirely different world. Does he even know any real magic?"

Glancing at Narcissa, Severus took the time to ponder that question. "I do believe he does, though I have not yet seen him perform much of it."

"So he might be practically a squib?" Narcissa's light tone betrayed that she found that notion utterly hilarious.

Severus remembered the sheer power that had rolled off Potter when he'd appeared in the great hall, how cold and foreign and unforgiving it had felt, how every hair on his body had stood on end. "As hysterically funny as that would be, I doubt it. He attended a school for sorcerers, so he must have learned something there."

Before Narcissa could reply, the door leading to the offices opened and Potter stepped out, a huge grin on his face and his oversized raven riding on his shoulder. Where the bird had suddenly come from, Severus had no idea.

"Hello, hello," the bird cawed, briefly flapping its wings, as Potter approached them.

"What a fun ride those carts are! I'll be making many withdrawals here, mark my words." Potter kept smiling as he stopped before them, even as he gave Narcissa a curious look.

"Potter, may I introduce Narcissa Malfoy," Severus said quickly because Narcissa looked like she might hex him if he didn't formally introduce her to his unwelcome charge. "Narcissa, this is the long, lost Potter heir."

"A pleasure, I'm sure," Narcissa drawled, looking Potter up and down a few times and probably reaching all sorts of condescending conclusions based solely on Potter's rustic attire.

"Nice to meet you," Potter said with a nod, but he never offered to shake hands. Now that Severus thought about it, at no point had Potter offered to shake anyone's hands at any time. Perhaps this wasn't a part of a normal greeting in the world he came from.

"What beautiful pendants," Narcissa said with a smooth little smile, because of course she had at once noticed the chunk of decorated gold Potter had hanging around his neck. It was hard to miss. But there was another piece hanging from the same chain, something Severus had missed until just now. A red stone set in gold, a rather boring pendant compared to the vividly inscribed locket. "Do they have any special meaning?"

Potter's face did a few interesting things. His eyes flashed briefly while his lips tightened in a line before his expression relaxed again. "Trinkets and heirlooms, that is all they are." Then he looked at Severus and gestured towards the doors. "I have a bag full of gold coins and a desire to spend some of them. Shall we?"

Severus was left little choice but to follow Potter, who marched through the doors without pause. Potter was already halfway to Flourish and Blotts before Severus caught up with him. Neither spoke until they entered the bookshop and Potter stopped dead in his tracks, gazing around while his mouth sank open.

"Are books not rare in this world?" Potter said, genuinely shocked by what he was seeing.

"Not particularly, no," Severus replied, terribly amused by Potter's response for some reason.

"Merchant!" Potter bellowed out of the blue, sending one unlucky patron crashing into a stack of books as they jumped in surprise. "I am here to purchase your goods!"

The clerk behind the counter, a talentless Ravenclaw barely out of Hogwarts Severus remembered teaching up until OWL level, sprang to attention. "Yes, Sir. Er…oh, professor Snape?" The clerk swallowed a few times, staring at Severus with wide eyes. Good, he remembered exactly who he was facing. "Er…there are baskets you can use, and once you've made a selection I'll ring you up." The clerk gestured at the wicker baskets beside the door while taking Potter in.

"Books, books," the raven on Potter's shoulder cawed as Potter grabbed a basket.

Before he could disappear into the stacks, Severus stopped him with a quick gesture. "Buy what you want, but do remember Hogwarts has an elaborate library that you can use."

"Ah, I'd almost forgotten." And without further comment, Potter was gone, lost amidst a sea of books. Severus left him to it, making his way to the potions section to see if there were any new publications he hadn't read yet.

They must have browsed for an hour before Potter resurfaced, three overflowing baskets hanging off his arms. Severus met him at the counter where he'd already paid for two new books for his own collection.

"Are these the only books you have?" Potter asked the dumbstruck clerk. "Your selection seems incomplete."

"Er…how so?" the clerk asked carefully, a little disbelievingly.

"Well, where are your books on rituals? On summoning? Necromancy?" Potter demanded, eyes narrowed.

"Er…" the clerk glanced between Severus and Potter several times while Severus kept his face blank as he inwardly wondered what sort of sorcerer Potter truly was. "Those subjects are not exactly allowed, but you could try Knockturn Alley, I suppose."

"I shall go there henceforth. Now tell me how many coins I owe you, merchant." Potter dumped his baskets on the counter, books spilling everywhere. Severus watched quietly as the clerk scrambled to get Potter's purchases taken care off and Severus mentally catalogued what kind of books Potter was buying. Runes, arithmancy, warding, potions, curses and counter-curses, duelling, charms, transfiguration, enchanting, even alchemy. And they were all newer publications, too, from what Severus could tell. It was an interesting selection of magical subjects, but none of them were beginner books.

Severus thought about pointing this out to Potter, but decided not to. It would be far more interesting to see how Potter would manage to learn any magic from books that lacked any introductions for a new wizard.

Once Potter handed over a generous stack of galleons and dumped all his new books inside his expanded satchel, Severus reminded him they had one last stop before Potter could go and explore the wonders of Knockturn Alley, which Severus would gladly pay a handful of gold for to see.

"A wand." Severus gestured to the right, towards Ollivander's store. "This way."

Potter shrugged and followed him, apparently uncaring that wizards required wands to even be able to cast any of the magic found in the books Potter had just bought. Well, he'd figure that out sooner rather than later, Severus mused.

A bell rang as Potter stepped through Ollivander's doors, Severus on his heels.

And then the most peculiar thing happened. Just as the door fell shut behind them and Potter entered the store properly, the whole of the store seemed to take a worried step back.

Severus would swear up and down, until the day he died, that every single box holding a wand slid backwards at least an inch throughout the entire store, as though terrified they should end up in Potter's hands.

"Oh my," Ollivander breathed, slinking around a corner and peering at Potter with wide, uncertain eyes. "It has been a long time indeed since we've had one of your kind in here, Mr Potter."

"I was told I needed a wand," Potter said with a careless shrug. "I sincerely doubt it, but I figured it couldn't hurt to buy one"

Severus remained rooted at the spot, afraid to make even one sound, because he had no idea what Ollivander was talking about but he was desperate to find out.

"You already have a focus, don't you?" Ollivander took a few cautious steps towards Potter, who looked around the store with interest.

"A few, yes."

"Hmm." Ollivander looked Potter up and down a few times before wandering off to find a wand for Potter to try. When he returned the box in his hands rattled, as though the wand inside of it was desperate to escape its destined future in Potter's hands.

Severus had never seen wands act like this before, had never even heard of it.

"Cherry and dragon heartstring," Ollivander said as he handed Potter the dark wand. "Well, give it a try."

Potter whispered a few words that Severus couldn't understand, swished the wand around and then chuckled when the wand turned to ashes in his hand, the remains falling gently to the floor.

"No, absolutely not," Ollivander said with a harsh gesture at Potter. "I cannot sell you a wand. Leave now."

"A good day to you," Potter said while he turned and left the store without any protest. Severus barely dared to breathe as he followed his charge, wondering what on earth had just happened. Never in his life had he seen such a thing. The Dark Lord himself used all sorts of experimental magic, things no other wizard dared to touch, and he used a wand from Ollivander without any issues.

"Where can I find this Knockturn Alley?" Potter demanded as they stood outside in the weak November sun.

But before Severus could answer, Fawkes flashed into existence in a burst of flames. Severus jumped a foot backwards, banging against Ollivander's door while Fawkes all but spit a note at him before flying to the roof opposite them so he could sit and silently laugh at him, Severus was sure of it. Blasted thing.

"Bad bird, bad bird," the raven on Potter's shoulder cawed while Severus opened the note, wondering what Albus wanted from him now. It had better not be to escort Potter to the ministry so Fudge could cover the man in medals or some such rot.

Oh no, it was so much worse than even that.

Severus,

Please escort Harry to twelve Grimmauld Place in London where two men are eagerly waiting to meet him. It will do young Harry some good to get to know the last living links to his parents.

Albus

"You will have to postpone your outing to the more seedier parts of the wizarding world to a later time," Severus said, balling up the parchment and setting it on fire with a flick of his wand. "You have some admirers waiting for you. We'll take the Knight Bus." Severus was barely able to get the words out without cursing something to bits and pieces.

Lupin and Black, just what he needed on this already delightful day.

Potter looked at him with an arched eyebrow, probably noticing Severus' suddenly souring mood, but he didn't comment as they headed for the exit.

One very uncomfortable ride later they arrived at the dilapidated town house. Severus preceded Potter up the steps, because he did want to see Lupin and Black's expressions when they saw Potter for the first time in all his unkempt glory, but other than that Severus vowed to leave immediately after that, done with Harry bloody Potter for the day.

The door was answered soon after Severus knocked on it, and he stepped to the side to give Lupin and Black a good look at Potter's spawn. It was clear from their baffled expressions that they hadn't expected Potter to look as he did.

"Hi, hi," the raven cawed while Potter stepped closer to the opened door, gazing from Lupin and Black before his whole face lit up and he gave them a wide grin.

"Padfoot, Moony, mind telling me where the hell you were and why I ended up in Petunia's fucking closet?"

Severus blinked, and then he blinked again. How in Salazar's name did Potter know those childish nicknames those hooligans had used for each other in their youth? Severus sincerely doubted Petunia knew them, and if she did, that she'd shared them with her nephew.

Apparently Severus wasn't the only one who picked up on that discrepancy.

"Hello, Harry," Lupin said with a mild but curious look. "How on earth did you learn those names?"

Potter shrugged and ran a hand through his wild hair while the raven cawed, "Moony, Moony."

"When I was learning to shield my mind and spent a lot of time meditating, I unlocked some early memories. You two were in some of them," Potter said with a bright smile.

That was a lie.

Severus was sure of it. Potter had just told his first obvious lie to cover up something he shouldn't know, and at once Severus doubted everything Potter had told them so far. Had the man even been stuck in a different world? How had he aged the way he had? And how did he know those details about his parents' friends that he was too young to remember?

Screw his plans to get rid of Potter as soon as he could. Severus was now determined to get to the bottom of the mystery that was Harry Potter. Before anyone could stop him, Severus slipped inside the house and Potter followed him in at once. Black gave him a very sour look, eyes narrowed and filled with disgust, but Severus staunchly ignored him as he observed Potter.

While the raven on his shoulder flapped its wings in obvious excitement, Potter walked through the dusty, dark hallway of the Black family townhouse and ran his fingers along the wall while looking around with wide eyes.

"What a lovely house you have," Potter said, and the most remarkable thing about that statement was that Potter seemed to mean every word of it.

Oh yeah, Severus was sticking with Potter and even the Dark Lord wouldn't be able to drag him away until he knew every little thing there was to know about the man.