5 Diagon Alley

Harry had never been to London before, but even if he had, he couldn't imagine any place as fascinating as Diagon Alley. When Professor Snape informed him gruffly over breakfast that they would be doing more shopping that day, Harry could barely contain his excitement. It must have shown on his face because the professor lowered his magical newspaper and glared at Harry.

"I expect better behavior from you than yesterday," he told Harry sternly.

That wasn't precisely fair, in Harry's mind. There were so many new things that it was easy to forget what he was doing at any given time. The professor also seemed to believe that Harry didn't need to be told anything ahead of time except "keep up" and "do as you're told." Harry was used to this behavior by adults. His aunt and uncle treated him the same way. He was to be seen and not heard and more or less pretend he did not exist. In many ways, Professor Snape was infinitely kinder. He made sure that Harry had enough to eat, and he didn't insult him constantly. He called him "Mr. Potter" or "Potter" instead of "boy" or "the freak." He wasn't pleasant by any stretch of the imagination, though. He could be just as quick with a sneer or insult. All in all, Harry preferred him tenfold over the Dursleys.

After a delicious meal of creamy hot porridge and a tangy orange juice that the professor said was pumpkin juice, Harry was sent to shower and change. He found clothing laid out for him in the washroom again. It was part of what had been purchased for him yesterday. This included some of the strange long robes wizards wore. Professor Snape's were black, but Harry's was a very dark green today. He found that he liked it. Harry wore brown leather shoes with heavy soles that were still quite cushy with his robes. He had never had shoes that fit before, and none so comfortable in his life. As with yesterday, Harry wore a hat that covered his scar.

"Drink," Professor Snape ordered, holding out a potion vial.

Taking the potion, Harry was relieved that it did not taste as terrible as the one he had originally had to drink every hour. The professor eyed him critically, apparently inspecting the results. Harry looked around the man to his own reflection in the mirror. His hair was now a sandy blond color, and his eyes were a grayish brown.

"That will last for twenty-four hours, give or take," the professor informed him. "It is a color-altering potion, not an identity-altering one. All it does is lighten the color of your eyes and hair. I am hoping that no one will look at you too carefully. What is your name?"

This last question was barked at him so quickly that Harry almost suspected the professor was daft before realizing what he was getting at. "James, Sir."

Professor Snape nodded. He ushered Harry out of the hotel room and down the stairs. It was still relatively early, but the pub below was busy with patrons having breakfast. Fortunately, no one paid any attention to the man and boy. The professor had an air that made people want to avoid him, Harry realized. He was not a friendly-looking person. People gave them a wide berth.

The professor made the same pattern on the brick wall with his wand, and they opened to make an entry. As before, Harry wanted to gape in wonder. He knew that the professor disapproved of dawdling, though. Despite his grumpiness, Professor Snape had already done a lot for him. He had taken him from Privet Drive, and a few solid meals already made Harry feel better. He also had not done a single chore. Harry tried not to think of all of the things purchased yesterday or what they would be doing today. The number one rule of life with the Dursleys was "do not ask questions." He had a feeling Professor Snape felt similarly about questioning his actions.

The first thing Harry noticed was that the professor seemed to slow down today. He stepped off to the side, out of the flow of traffic, and let Harry catch his breath. Harry was grateful for the chance to soak it all in.

Diagon Alley was a narrow cobblestone street towered by shops on both sides that almost seemed to meet in the middle overhead, leaving a narrow strip of sky between them. The shop windows were full of fanciful things Harry had never imagined seeing in real life, and signs everywhere advertised wares that were just as fantastical. His eyes shot between signs for the Magical Menagerie, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, Twilfitt and Tattling's clothing, and Eyelop's Owl Emporium. Harry couldn't take his eyes off Fortescue's, which had a giant ice cream cone atop its sign. He had just eaten, but it still made his mouth water. The screeching from Eyelop's also caught his attention as they went past. There were owls of all colors and sizes, and Harry even saw a bat even though it was daylight out.

They stopped first at Slug and Jigger's Apothecary, however. It had a large stack of cauldrons of various sizes towering precariously on one side of the door. Signs advertising cauldrons of all sizes and potion ingredients dotted the storefront. Once they entered the shop, Harry was accosted by so many competing smells that he thought he would be immediately sick. Professor Snape smirked down at him but surprised Harry by responding with an almost gentle comment instead of a reprimand or a taunt.

"It is rather revolting, isn't it?"

Harry just nodded and followed the professor. He didn't need to be told to keep up and keep his hands to himself. The shop was full floor to ceiling with glass jars and drawers full of disgusting-looking things Harry didn't want anything to do with. He tried to isolate the smells, but his brain didn't seem to recognize any of them. He could see frog legs, eyes of creatures he didn't recognize, and signs for things like dragons' blood and unicorns' tails. He could have sworn he saw the word "troll" around a corner. That might explain why he thought he smelled a combination of sewer water and rotting cabbage.

Once they reached the back of the shop, Harry listened with half an ear to the professor chatting with the shopkeeper while he looked around. The longer he was there, the more he got used to the smell. He was even sort of interested in some of the disgusting things in jars, though he didn't dare approach them. This had less to do with Professor Snape's admonition to behave than his firm belief that half the shop was likely dangerous. He had no interest in dried viper tongues.

"Here," Professor Snape told him, shoving a cauldron into his arms.

"Pewter, Size two," Harry stated.

"Very good, James. You read your list. What else do you need?" Professor Snape seemed mildly amused. Harry wasn't sure why.

"Um," Harry felt shy now, for some reason. "Brass scales, Sir. And a first-year potions kit?"

"And?"

Harry thought for a minute. He had read that list over and over. "Phials, Sir! Glass or crystal."

Professor Snape nodded. "Get crystal. They won't break as easily if you drop them. I will teach you a charm to put on them as well."

With a grin, Harry went off to find the requisite items. He had never been entrusted with shopping before, and it made him feel grown-up and responsible. As he walked through the shop, he noticed more people trickling in, dressed as both wizards and muggles. He turned and saw a slight nod from the professor. Apparently, it was safe to continue walking around. Professor Snape was watching.

"Which ones do you think we should get, Hermione?" A tall woman with curly brown hair was speaking to a short girl with bushy brown hair right in front of the display of vials. From the way they were dressed, along with a man wearing trousers and a vest, Harry could tell they were muggles.

"I don't know, Mom. It just says to get glass or crystal on the list," the girl said. Harry thought she must be a first-year too. He could see that she had a book in her hands called The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1). It was on his list also.

"Excuse me," Harry said. He had no idea why he spoke up. Never in his life had Harry done so before. He never would have known what to say, but in this case, he did. He looked back quickly, seeing that Professor Snape was watching him but hadn't moved. He continued, "I am getting the crystal vials because they are less likely to break."

The girl turned to look at him, and her parents did too. Harry assumed they were her parents. She seemed to be taking his appearance in quickly, and he remembered that he was dressed as a wizard. She probably thought he had grown up as one and knew what he was talking about.

"Oh!" The girl said. "Thanks for that. I'm Hermione, by the way." She looked like she wanted to shake his hand, but both of her hands were full of a cauldron and books.

"Hi. No problem. Professor Snape told me," Harry gestured to the man. "I wouldn't have known either. I am just a first year."

Hermione looked around Harry to Professor Snape, whom Harry had to admit was an intimidating figure. She nodded. "So am I. A first-year, I mean. I just found out. I mean, I just found out that I am magical."

Harry grinned at her. "Cool. My name is James." The lie rolled off his tongue. He hadn't wanted to lie to her, but it seemed like at this point, he had to tell her a name. It was rude not to.

"Hi, James. These are my mom and dad," Hermione smiled shyly. "Any more tips for me?"

"Oh, sorry, not really. Dress warmly?" Harry could not help but giggle. That was really the only other thing he could think of at the time.

It seemed to do the trick. Hermione smiled a big, broad smile full of large teeth. She had an infectious grin that made Harry feel like she was instantly his friend. He hoped so. He had never had a friend, after all.

"It was really nice to meet you, Hermione, but I better go. I guess I will see you at Hogwarts?" Harry did not know why that came out almost like a question.

"Definitely!" Hermione smiled again. "We should sit together on the train. I will see you then. Bye, James!"

"Bye, Hermione!"

She went off to the front of the shop, and Harry went to join Professor Snape. It wasn't until he met up with the man that he realized she probably wouldn't recognize him when they did meet again. The thought made him instantly sad.

Professor Snape eyed him quizzically but just took his items and paid for them without a word. They went into the street next, which was much brighter as the sun was higher. Harry looked around at the busy street, full of happy families and witches and wizards going about their business. Suddenly, the full weight of the conversation about his parents and his fame seemed to weigh down on him. It was as if he could not move. Although he knew that it would likely frustrate or anger Snape, he just stood there, trying not to dissolve into tears.

Somehow, Professor Snape seemed to know, just as he had learned while they were shopping the day before. He gently laid a hand on Harry's shoulder and gave him a light squeeze, and then directed him to a table outside a small café. Harry didn't know how the man always seemed to read his thoughts with one look. A jaded voice in the back of his mind said it was magic.

Without asking Harry what he wanted, the professor ordered tea and scones, and they just sat there for a few minutes, watching people walk by on the crowded street. After an amount of time that Harry couldn't measure while he felt like he was in a trance, he heard Professor Snape clear his throat.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Harry looked up at the man. For the first time since they had met, he saw nothing but compassion there. It was strange. He didn't think anyone had ever looked at him like that. It was as if he really saw Harry.

"I will never be like everyone else, will I?"

"No."

Harry nodded. He hadn't really expected a different answer. He knew deep down that part of him had always known.

"I am a frank man, Harry. If you are looking for someone to sugarcoat things and tell you platitudes, you will need to wait for the Headmaster, or maybe Professor McGonagall. I am telling you the truth. You are not, and have never been, like anyone else. Your life was in danger even before you were born. It most likely still is. Your parents were taken from you too soon, which has left you with … a difficult childhood. Perhaps it is best to say you have had no childhood. From the moment you enter the castle walls, you will be marked, not in the way that you were marked as a baby, but marked nonetheless. Everyone expects something from you, Potter."

Harry nodded, looking down into his teacup. He had heard about people reading from tea leaves, but he didn't think there was any need to read his. His future was set.

"You do not need to just accept what people expect of you, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape continued. Harry realized that the professor had called him by his first name before, perhaps to get his attention. "Plenty of decisions have been made for you before now, of which you have had no input. You are not a puppet whose strings need to be pulled, though or a pawn that needs to be told where to be moved. You have free will, Mr. Potter. Do you understand what I mean by that?"

"I think so, Sir," Harry said, nodding slowly.

"Good, because mark me well. People will try to manipulate and control you. They will tell you that they have your best interests at heart and may even believe that they do. However, you have to make your own choices. You have been powerless until now, but you have to make your own power. You have to take your power back because things are not going to get easier for you now. They are not going to get better. They are not going to get simpler."

Harry looked at the professor in wonder.

"No, Mr. Potter, I cannot see the future. I am older than you. I have lived many difficult experiences and made difficult choices. In some cases, I have made the wrong choices."

Harry started to ask a question, and again the professor headed him off.

"My life was not like yours in exactly the same way. I had some of the same experiences. However, some of my choices were made of my own free will. Some of yours have been made for you. I was marked by choice. You were not."

They sat in silence for a long time after that, as they both fermented in the words of the conversation. Harry was both relieved and terrified that an adult had been so open and honest with him. He realized that he'd had a premonition that something about him was special, and maybe terrible, for a long time. It was partly from the dreams he'd had of the green light and the man with red eyes, and partly the lightning bolt scar that always made him feel horrible. It turned out he had a reason for hating it other than being teased at school.

Eventually, Snape told Harry they were going to continue. They went to Flourish and Blotts, which fascinated Harry because he had never been to a bookstore before. This one was incredible because the books seemed to have a mind of their own. Some of them shrieked when you walked by or shivered when you picked them up. Harry browsed through a cookbook while the professor spoke to the shopkeeper. The pictures moved and smelled wonderful, and Harry could swear that he would have been able to reach in and grab the delectable meals described within.

The professor handed Harry a stack of eight books and told him to put them on the counter and then go to the children's section and find enough books to keep him out of mischief. Harry gawked at the man, having no idea what that meant. The shopkeeper, a gentle man with a grizzled beard and calloused hands, smiled at him and led him to a brightly colored alcove full of tomes replete with witches and wizards' adventures, tales of school, and beginning spellcraft. Harry was ogling a book on the rules of the game of Quidditch when the professor found him ten minutes later.

"Well?"

"Sir, these are wonderful. The pictures move, just like the newspaper!"

"Aren't you a little old for books with pictures?"

This resulted in Snape helping Harry pick out half a dozen novels and a dozen more nonfiction books on potions, wizarding history, and wizard culture. There was even one called Hogwarts, A History, that did have pictures but was so large that Snape did not scoff at it. Harry was allowed to keep the quidditch book, even though it had pictures too. They were mostly diagrams. Snape said it would be useful to understand the game with which so many dunderheaded students were obsessed.

When they were leaving, Harry suddenly realized that they didn't have their purchases, and he didn't know where the ones from the apothecary were either. He asked Snape about this and got an amused look in return. Snape informed him that the purchases had been shrunk and sent back to the hotel room and admonished Harry for forgetting about that process from yesterday's trip.

Feeling chagrined, Harry followed Snape to Twinkle's Telescopes. He found that he really liked this shop. It had models of the universe, and he was excited to learn that he would be taking astronomy. This earned a scoff from Snape about why there had been a telescope on the list. Snape expected Harry to use his brain.

After the telescope's purchase, Harry longingly eyed the Magical Menagerie as they walked past. He loved animals of all kinds but had never had a pet. Amazingly, this was one area where the Dursleys rarely gave in to Dudley. His cousin had a tortoise, and while Harry was the one who cleaned its cage and fed it, it never did much. He imagined that magical animals did much more. He could not wait to read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.

"Would you like to have lunch now?"

Turning to Professor Snape, Harry looked at the man in surprise. He was never really asked questions like that. Harry supposed this generosity was a result of his breakdown from before. He hated to think that the professor was pitying him, though.

"I guess so. Professor Snape, when do I get my wand?" Harry had been wondering this since he had read the letter. He had seen the professor do amazing things with his, and while he wanted nothing more than to try it, he also valued his life. They had always passed by Ollivander's Wands, though.

"When you are eleven."

"Oh. Will we be here that long?"

"Heavens no. I am taking you to Hogwarts today."

"You are?" Harry was excited to learn this. Professor Snape never told him what was going to happen before it did.

"Yes. I imagine you are getting tired of the Leaky Cauldron's food, though. I thought I would take you somewhere else today. Where would you like to go?"

Harry was getting used to surprises, but this was a bit too much. "What do you like, Sir?"

It seemed that he was the one that had surprised the professor this time. Professor Snape raised his brows at Harry. "Well, I supposed I'd rather fancy fish and chips. I don't suppose you've had that?"

Harry shook his head. He could not help but grin. It almost seemed like he had opened up the professor's authoritarian personality just a crack. They walked to a stand in the middle of Diagon Alley and ordered fish and chips, and lemonade. Harry was in heaven as he crunched on the greasy chips and the crisp fried fish. He thought the professor was very kind to take him here, instead of just feeding him as he had always done before.

"Thank you, Professor Snape."

"For what?" Professor Snape gave Harry a critical gaze that, as always, seemed to look right through him.

"Well, for everything, I guess. You've done more for me than anyone else."

"You realize it is my job to assist students," Professor Snape told Harry loftily.

"Really?" Harry smirked. "Do you always threaten new students' families, stay with them in a hotel, and then take them shopping?"

Professor Snape gave Harry his typical deadpan expression, giving nothing away. "No."

"Then … thanks."

Professor Snape waited a moment, then nodded.

They finished eating in silence, but it was a comfortable silence. Something had become clearer between them, though Harry wasn't sure what. He felt better, though. He felt better than he ever had with any other adult.

When they returned to the hotel room, Snape gruffly ordered Harry to make sure that everything was packed. They put his schoolbooks and new supplies in the trunk with the uniforms. It was mostly full once everything was in there. Snape grumped about it not having had an expanding charm cast upon it and then did so. Harry marveled at that. It now seemed bottomless. Both of his trunks had his initials on them, "HJP."

"Sir?"

Professor Snape looked at him expectantly. Harry pointed to the trunks. He felt foolish for not noticing or asking about the initials before.

"Those are your initials, Potter. It is so other students do not confuse the trunks with yours and so the house elves know where to put them once you are sorted."

"House elves?" Harry decided to leave that for now. "Does the 'J' stand for 'James' then?"

"I should think that is obvious, Mr. Potter."

"Well, I'm sorry! Excuse me if you know more about me than me. I didn't even know my name until today!" Harry shouted. As he did so, there was a shaking in the room like an earthquake.

"Mr. Potter! Stop that this instant!" Professor Snape moved quickly toward him.

At the movement, Harry blanched. An adult's quick movement toward him and the professor's exultation, along with something "freaky" happening, brought back too many memories. He closed his eyes and put his hands to his head as he felt a wave of power surge up from deep within him. The mirror broke, as well as the lanterns. Harry turned and fled into the washroom and shut the door. He was grateful that nothing in there was broken.

Panting from fear and horror, Harry slid down to the ancient tile floor and put his head between his hands. There was a great pounding of the blood in his ears. He felt like his head was about to explode. Things like this had never ended well for him. He couldn't imagine it would this time.

"Mr. Potter."

Harry could hear Snape's voice through the door. He was sure that the man could easily open the door, even if he had locked it. Harry wasn't sure why the man hadn't just rushed in to punish him for his outburst. He had yelled at the professor! Then on top of that, he had made something happen that should not happen. Harry wasn't a complete dolt. He knew it was magic. He knew Professor Snape knew it was magic. Snape had also told him to stop it, though, and Harry hadn't. He hadn't been able to. He had never been able to, no matter how hard he tried, and no matter how much the Dursleys yelled at him or no matter how long they locked him in his cupboard.

"Mr. Potter. Harry. It's alright."

That was not what he expected. In fact, the professor did not sound sure of himself as he said the words. Harry almost suspected that he was being tricked, but then he remembered that the professor had never tricked him. He was the only adult who had always been honest with him. Harry knew that he would always tell Harry the truth.

Slowly, as if his legs would not listen to their master, Harry stood up and opened the door. He didn't realize until he was facing Professor Snape that he had tears running down his face. He quickly brushed them away; He never cried! This was so babyish.

The professor looked him up and down as if he was checking for injuries. Since Harry had broken all of the glass in the room, he realized he probably was. Seemingly satisfied, the man pressed his lips together as if he was searching for the right expression.

"Potter, accidental magic is a natural occurrence for a young wizard. When you are upset, it tends to happen. You are not in trouble. I was simply trying to … calm you down. I was trying to stop you before it got too out of hand. I apologize for scaring you."

Harry looked up at the professor, searching his expression. He decided that the professor was honest. After all, he had decided to trust him.

"Are you injured?"

Harry shook his head.

Professor Snape nodded and then waved his wand at first the mirror and then each lantern. The pieces of glass flew back up to return to their former position. Everything was back to the way it was. Harry was so relieved that he felt a little tension leave his body. He wondered why the professor had waited until he came back in if that was all it took. Then it occurred to him that this might be the point. He wanted to show Harry that the damage was easily mended.

"When you are at Hogwarts, you will learn to train your magic. As soon as you begin training, you will have fewer incidents of accidental magic like this. However," Professor Snape eyed Harry sternly, "it is still best to learn to hold your temper.

Harry nodded miserably.

"You are correct that many of the people you meet will know more about yourself and your history than you do, or they will think they do," Professor Snape continued. "However, you cannot allow this to get to you. Do you remember the conversation that we had earlier today?"

"Yes, Sir."

"So, what do you need to do about this if it bothers you?"

"I need to find people who have information and ask them?" Harry asked.

"That is right, Harry," Professor Snape told him. "I would add that you need to learn who you can trust. That is part of life. I am not telling you to trust no one. I am telling you to be careful who you trust."

"You called me Harry."

"I did."

"Why do you do that, sometimes?"

"I do, occasionally. I suppose it is because you are a sneaky, cheeky brat," Professor Snape smiled at Harry. It was a real smile.

Harry smiled back. He was glad that he had already found one person to trust.