Harry surveyed the books, wondering what he should read. With two whole months at Hogwarts, he could easily raise his marks, maybe even rival Hermione. He smirked and grabbed a few books off the shelf. Maybe Potion Ingredients and Their Properties and Protecting Yourself from the Dark Arts would aid him in his quest. He also grabbed Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. He remembered Hermione telling him their first year that she'd read about him in those. He occupied a large table and spread the books out in front of him.
First, he delved into Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, where he learned all about Voldemort's terrible grip on the world, the fear everyone had lived in, and his downfall. The last chapters made his parents' deaths seem almost trivial in comparison to his defeat of the Dark Lord. Harry closed his eyes, willing the visions in his head to stop. He shut the book and pushed that and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century aside; he really had had enough of that subject.
He grabbed Potion Ingredients and Their Properties and settled in for a long read. At first, he struggled to understand, but once grasping the basics, he could easily follow why certain ingredients had to be mixed in certain ways. He smiled to himself. We'll see who the better student is next term, Malfoy. His stomach grumbled, reminding him of the hour. As if on cue, Dobby popped up beside him.
"Harry Potter wishes to have lunch?" Harry nodded.
"Yeah, Dobby, I'm kinda hungry after all this work." Dobby smiled and nodded fervently, then his face dropped in shock.
"Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Potter in the library. I never thought I'd see the day." Harry cringed at the cold voice, and slowly turned, expecting to see Snape looming over him with his arms crossed. Instead, the potions master stood at the next table with two trays in his hands. He set them on the table and uncovered them. Harry stood speechless. The greasy git of a potions master had brought him lunch.
"Sir?" he finally managed. When Snape looked up questioningly at him, he motioned to the lunch.
"Having trouble forming complete sentences Potter?" Snape smirked. "If you must know, I was coming up here to do a bit of research. The Headmaster was rather insistent that I bring two trays with me. Now I see why." Snape sat down and began eating quietly, with no further mention of the subject. Cautiously, Harry sat down across from him, staring at his plate. Slowly, he began eating until it was completely gone, and he sat back satisfied. Snape had long since finished his meal and had gotten up to retrieve his books. Harry saw that his plate was completely empty as well, and called for Dobby. The house elf popped up rather suddenly.
"Could you take these back to the kitchen? I think we're done." Dobby nodded and wordlessly popped out with the trays. Harry returned to his table and resumed his studies.
Snape came back with two books on rare potions and began researching. Despite himself, he looked at the boy in his peripheral vision, and nearly gasped. He was no longer a spitting image of James Potter, but of himself. He turned his head to get a better look, but as he blinked, Potter returned to his normal visage. I must be still recovering from the attack, he shook his head clear and concentrated on the book.
Harry rubbed his eyes as he shut the book, finally finished. He looked over at Snape, who was thoroughly engrossed. Harry noticed that he looked almost…blissful, as if nothing in the world was wrong. Harry knew the feeling; he felt it every time he flew. Wait, this is Snape! He shook his head and stood. He picked up the books and filed them back where they belonged, then made his way out the door. As he passed by, he whispered.
"Thanks for lunch, Professor." As the door clicked shut behind the boy, Snape looked up with a raised eyebrow.
"You're welcome."
Harry scurried down the halls to find the Headmaster, and finally found him out by the lake, skipping stones. Harry walked up beside him and stuck his hands in his pockets.
"Headmaster?"
"Oh, Harry! You startled me! I was just thinking." Harry coughed suddenly, and the Headmaster smiled. "Contrary to popular opinion, I do not know everything."
"Could have fooled me." Harry sighed, and smiled sheepishly. "I was thinking, maybe I could go to Diagon Alley. I mean, all my things were destroyed, and I need all knew things. I have the money in Gringotts, all I need is to go."
"Harry, I understand all of that, but it is dangerous for you to be out there alone."
"Sir, I know, but at Diagon Alley, there would be other wizards and witches there to look out for me."
"I don't know, Harry. It seems too dangerous."
"Sir, I'll even take a Portkey with me, you can teach me how to activate it. If something happens, I'm right back here. Please, I promise to be on the lookout for anything suspicious, and my first stop will be Olivander's." Harry turned his emerald eyes pleadingly on the Headmaster.
"Harry, I will allow you to go only if you are accompanied by a member of the faculty."
"But sir!"
"No buts Harry, I will admit that you need new things, but I will not permit you to go alone." Dumbledore turned back to the lake, and Harry just stood there, silently pleading for him to change his mind. Then he spoke, softly, but loud enough for the Headmaster to here.
"Sir, I'm sorry for causing an inconvenience here, and I don't want to be a burden anymore, but if you don't let me go, I'll just find a way on my own. I know how to Floo, it's not that hard. So either I go alone, without anything, or you let me go alone and I take some help. A Portkey would be more than sufficient, and as soon as I get a new wand, I'll be more than prepared." His rant finished, he could only stand, waiting for an answer. The Headmaster turned to him, that irritating twinkle ever-present.
"You are your father's son, my boy. You may go tomorrow. Come to my office later for more detailed instructions and a Portkey. The password is Bertie Botts." Harry thanked the Headmaster and ran off before the old wizard could change his mind.