Perfesser: Damn, I need to stop starting these notes this way.

Anyway, I am really sorry for the time this took, but I had a ton of work to get done this weekend, and I also had to move to my dad's, so that took a load of time, and now I'm rambling. Ack! I'll just try to get the next chapter out ASAP.

Oh, and if you think I'm turning Harry into an ambitious, cunning heir of Slytherin, hold on for more.

Thanks a bunch for all the support you guys gave me from the previous chapter. Although it's sad that I'm eating cookies alone since nobody even tried to guess the hidden reference. It was from the American TV show, House M.D., where I referred to Robert Chase and Allison Cameron, one of the first major couples. I don't own House M.D., and as a matter of fact, I don't own Harry Potter either.

I hope you guys will enjoy this chapter as well. Read, review, and maybe favourite or follow. And belated Merry Christmases and Happy New Years to all those around the world!

Harry reentered the office of Pincrack once again, and the goblin grinned up at him once he noticed the diary he held close to himself. "That was the last thing put into the trust vault by your parents, on 18th of September, 1981."

The boy remained silent, although there was one constant question bouncing around his mind. If his parents were so amazing, how did they die? He doubted it could've been a simple car crash.

"Now, you're parents had a home in Godric's Hollow, although there is not much left, after the incident. That means that you will have to either live with your nearest of kin, or finds other means of accommodation by yourself." The goblin continued with a more somber expression.

Harry shuddered slightly at the thought of going back to the Dursleys especially after the way he had left. Though he still wondered what Pincrack had meant by 'the incident'. "I think I'll have to find a place myself."

The goblin nodded in reply. "I would recommend the Leaky Cauldron as a temporary residence in that case. It is just at the entrance of Diagon Alley, and allows you to stay in touch with the magical world easily. And the place is run by a wizard, so you don't have to worry about slipping up and revealing the magical world to Muggles, the non-magical people."

Harry nodded once again, thankful that he would not be forced to back to the Dursleys. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Pincrack, but I believe I should be going now."

The goblin released a deep chuckle, which was just as harsh as his voice. "While I appreciate the sentiment, Mr. Potter, it is rather unnecessary. It is my job to tell young heirs who have no guardians from their families about this sort of stuff, and I get paid enormous amounts for this. This is what I am paid to do, to introduce people like you to a history of their magical families. No gratitude is required."

The young wizard found himself rather unnerved by the creature's callous manner, but he knew that the goblin had still assisted him. "Well, I should go then. Bye Mr. Pincrack."

The banker watched as the boy rose from his seat, and slowly left the room. "Goodbye, Mr. Potter." The muttered words were barely heard by the wizard.

Harry found Griphook standing in front of the door, awaiting him. "Don't worry, we may be great bankers, but most of us have hearts of stones. We have found that such stuff often interferes with our line of work."

Harry nodded once again, acknowledging the teller's words, but the creature was already a few metres down the hall, walking back toward the main lobby, and the boy rushed to follow.

"Griphook, could I ask you a question?" He inquired timidly, unsure if the goblin was willing to open up.

"That was a question, Mr. Potter, but you may ask me another." Came the teller's gravelly response, devoid of any emotion.

"I don't have any Muggle money, so how do I purchase anything from a Muggle store?"

The goblin sighed. Sometimes wizards could be so ignorant. "One Galleon, when seen by a Muggle, is a five pound note, which is the value of one Galleon. A Sickle is seen as a fifty pence coin, while a Knut is a single penny."

Harry at first wanted to question how that was even possible, but he caught himself. With all that he had learnt today, he was doubting whether there was even a thing such as the impossible.

The two found themselves in the lobby, where Griphook turned to face the boy. He reached into a pocket of his suit, before pulling out a small velvet box, and handing it to the wizard.

"Inside is a key, which when presented will allow anyone access to your account. It would be in your best interest if you kept it safe."

Harry ran his fingers over the soft velvet of the box, but chose to not open it in such a public place, and stuffed it into the same pocket that held his leather pouch.

"Now I must get back to work. Have a good day, Mr. Potter."

Harry asked around for the Leaky Cauldron, and although his question raised quite a few eyebrows, he soon found himself directed to a tavern, where dozens of people sat enjoying their breakfast or making jovial small talk with friends. Avoiding the more boisterous groups, the boy scurried to the bar, where an old man, with a slightly hunched back stood, using his wand to wash the dishes. The man smiled at Harry as the boy approached, lowering his wand for a moment. "Well hullo there lad. What do you s'pose I could do fer you?"

"I would like to stay here for a while. The goblins said this was a good place." Harry responded timidly.

The man chuckled deeply. "They did now, did they? You should know I do charge, no matter how small the resident."

The younger wizard nodded quickly. "I'm willing to pay, sir."

The man let out another guffaw, which seemed to be coming from his stomach. "Call me Tom, boy, none of that sir business. And if yer willing to pay, then its one Galleon for a week. I'll throw in food and housekeeping fer another Galleon."

Harry nodded in agreement, before quickly pulling out eight Galleons from the pouch in his pocket. He counted the, once more just to be sure, before handing them to Tom, who honestly seemed surprised that the boy had such an amount. "I'd like to stay here for four weeks, with food."

The bartender gingerly accepted the coins, before reaching under the bar, and pulling out a large, heavy key, upon which was engraved the number '8'.

"Room eight's the first one on the left upstairs. I hope you enjoy yer stay here. And as long as you don't ask too many questions, neither will I." Tom offered the boy the key, which was not as heavy as it had seemed.

"Thank you very much, Tom. Could I also get some breakfast?" Inquired the boy, as he put the key into his pocket.

"I'll whip something up fer you, but I don't send food up. If you wanna eat, you'll be eating here."

Harry nodded once again, before telling the man that he'd be right back, and making his way up the rickety staircase to his room. He jabbed the key into the rather rusty lock, before pushing the wooden door open.

The room was not luxurious by any means, but it was spades better than what the boy was used to. There was a small bed next to a window, which showed the bust streets of London below. On the opposite wall was a small shelf, upon which were some toiletries, and a hair brush. A mirror hung above the shelf, although the surface was rather grimy from ages of use.

There was a small wardrobe in the far corner, close to the bed. Harry swung it open, only to find a small towel, along with a plethora of cobwebs. The toilet had all the basic necessities, including a small shower. The boy turned on the water, and before he knew it he was taking a shower. Harry had learned to cherish showers, as he was rarely allowed to do so regularly while at the Dursleys. And all the grime, dirt and dried blood that was on him from the last night had begun to bother him.

After stepping out of the shower and putting on the same clothes, Harry quickly went back downstairs. He had patted his long, shaggy black hair over his forehead to hide the scar there. The boy didn't believe that lightning shaped scars were too popular, even for magicals. He sat back at the bar, and a moment later he found a rather large breakfast in front of him. There were buttered slices of toast, an omelet, along with a side of bacon and a bowl of porridge. To wash it all down there was a large mug of tea. The boy pecked at his food slowly, not used to eating such amounts, but he soon found that after all that had happened last night, especially his increased use of magic had left him drained, and his appetite needed all the food it could get.

As he thought of the previous night, he recalled the crystal he had given to Hermione. He looked down to his own necklace, holding the green crystal in his palm. I wish I could talk to Hermione. He focused the thought in his mind, repeating it over and over, until he eventually felt a strange sensation in his mind, and the crystal began to glow slightly. Harry looked around the room to make sure that nobody had noticed, before turning his attention back to the necklace. "Hermione, can you hear me?"

He heard a blurred sound in his thoughts, but it slowly grew more distinct, and he was sure that it was indeed the voice of the young witch he had seen the previous night. "Harry, I thought you would never talk. How is it that you're contacting me through this necklace?"

Harry shrugged, before he remembered that she couldn't see him. "I don't know myself. I just, asked my magic to do it, and it happened."

"How does that work though?" Harry could hear her enthusiasm in her voice, or was it her thoughts. Either way he couldn't help but smile at her fascination with magic. "I've tried to make things happen by thinking about it, but it just doesn't seem to work. The only time it works is when I'm really cross, or really happy."

The boy bit his lip as he thought a reason to explain that. "That might be because I've been doing magic for much longer, and I'm used to it better. I've actually been doing small stuff since I was five."

Harry was willing to bet that he had heard Hermione gasp in shock. "That's amazing! No wonder you can control it as well as you did yesterday." The bushy haired girl wondered if she'd ever be able to perform at the same level, give that Harry had a huge head start. "How old are you anyways?"

The girl grew slightly worried for a moment, as Harry didn't respond for quite some time. But just as she was about to repeat her question, she heard a much softer reply. "I, I'm eight years old."

Hermione was quite shocked at that. Judging by how small he seemed, she would've thought that Harry was somewhere between six or seven years old. But to learn that he was merely one year younger than her was rather surprising. "I'm nine. But it's just even more amazing to know that you can do such magic at such a young age. Like that thing you did to appear in my room and then leave. What was that, some kind of teleportation?"

Harry laughed lightly at the compliment. "Maybe that's what I'll call it. I'm sure that's something simple, and I know that once you begin to interact with your magic more you'll be doing great."

"We'll just have to see about that. I'm not even sure of how I can learn magic, let alone become adept at it. Where does one learn about something that most people don't even believe exists?"

Harry was confused for a moment before he realised that Hermione didn't know anything at all about other magicals, other than him himself. "Hermione, there is a whole lot more to this than I had thought. Apparently there's a whole magical community hidden around parts of the world, and there's even a huge magical market in London. There are shops, and other wizards and witches. I even saw a bookstore. I am actually there right now."

Hermione made a sound that sounded like a squeal of excitement. "Oh my god! What is it like there? Do people just use magic to do everything? What about the bookstore, what kind of books does it have?"

"Calm down Hermione. I haven't been out much, but most of the people use wands to do magic here. And I promise, as soon as I check out the bookstore, I'll tell you all about it."

"Alright, but I'm holding you to that promise Harry." And with that the boy felt the foreign sensation fade, and the glow in the crystal died out once more.

He felt a strange sensation of joy fill his heart. Perhaps this was what friendship was like. He allowed that thought to sink in, before he got up from the bar and made his way back into the alley, having grown much more curious to learn more of the magical world.

Harry soon found himself stepping into a large shop outside of which was a sign that read, 'Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasions'. Inside he saw measuring tapes flying around, and many customers stood stiffly, being measured by the tapes.

Before Harry could ask for any assistance, one of the tapes flitted towards him, quickly taking note of all his lengths, even measuring the distance between his ears at the end. After the tape was done, a small piece of paper appeared in the air in front of him, which he hastily grabbed. On the paper were scribbled many numbers, and the wizard was sure that these were his own measurements.

He looked around, rather confused as to what to do, before he took note of others also holding pieces of papers, who were browsing the stores and selecting cloths of different textures and colours. Harry followed by looking around for anything that he might like.

The problem, Harry realised, was that he liked all the colours quite a lot. Having been handed down Dudley's clothes was not good in any way, but right now, having to pick out colours, he didn't understand how Dudley had ever been able to choose anything.

"Can I help you dear?" The soft voice came from behind him. He turned to see a middle aged woman, who wore a magenta robe, and had a wand pulled out by her side.

"It's just that I can't decide which colours I want." Harry explained. The woman seemed to smile slightly at the problem, before helping the boy nonetheless.

She looked over the samples for a bit, before pulling out a royal purple cloth, followed by one which was a light blue. Then, for pants, she offered him black and dark blue in denim.

"I've found that colours like these look good on children. What do you think?"

Harry couldn't help but agree with the lady. The colours did seem to catch one's attention strongly, while also looking elegant. "They are really nice. Thank you for your help Ms….."

"Oh, just call me Madame Malkin. What about you?" The woman inquired, as they both walked toward a counter that was closer to the back of the shop.

"I'm Harry."

Madame Malkin made her way behind the counter, before putting the cloths on top. "So, Harry, how would you like your robes?"

"I'm not quite sure, I've never worn robes before. All I wear are t shirts or jeans." The boy said in an unsure tone.

"Ah, Muggle clothes. Then why don't you just tell me which colour of shirts you would like, and I'll make you a robe alongside that which I know you'll like." The woman replied in a cheery voice.

Harry agreed with the woman, before deciding that he wanted shirts and T-shirts in both the colours. The woman made a few notes in a large journal she had, before smiling brightly back at the boy. "It's five sickles for each shirt, and a Galleon for the robe. And then it's two Sickles per each pair of pants. With four shirts, four jeans and a robe, your total is two Galleons and thirteen Sickles. It'll take about two hours to get your clothes ready for you. How about you just explore the Alley until they're ready, eh?"

"That sounds fun. Thank you very much, Madame Malkin." The boy quickly took out three Galleons and gave them, to the woman, who gave him back six Sickles. With that he walked out of the shop and back into the mass of people gathered in the street. At this point he knew he had one thing to do. Go to the bookstore.

The large sign above the shop read, 'Flourish and Blotts' in large, old lettering. There didn't seem to be much people inside, but of those that were indeed there, most were congregated close to the aisles labelled, 'Schoolbooks'.

Harry's gaze flew from shelf to shelf, amazed by the sheer amount of books housed within the store. The bookcases towered over the wizard, and he even saw stacks that were levitating all around the shop.

He entered the aisle that read 'Basics for Muggleborns', and saw that most of the books looked like introductions to the different aspects of the magical world.

As his eyes scanned the tremendous amount of books, one stood out in front of him, 'The Magical And You'. He grabbed it, and started moving to the counter, but his gaze fell upon a small table that sat near the corner of the shop, isolated from most of the other books.

A small sign hung above the pile of old books, reading 'Old Books : 1 Sickle each!'. Harry couldn't help but look through the books, as they seemed to be quite interesting. One book especially caught his attention. 'The Art of Wandless Sorcery'. Harry nabbed it, before walking to the counter, happy with the two books he had found for himself.

He paid one Galleon and one Sickle to the man behind the counter, before being given a bag for his books. He left the shop immediately after, only to see that the Alley was now completely filled with people. At first it had been bearable, but now it was hard to even stay on his feet.

His eyes caught the small alley he had gone into the previous night, and he saw that it was much less crowded. Harry manoeuvred his way through the bust street, stepping into the alley. In the light of day, he was able to read the old, tattered sign that hung on the wall.

He made his way down Knockturn Alley, where he saw many shops were open. There were people here as well, but they mostly kept to themselves, ignoring him as he walked through the street.

As Harry looked around, he saw a small pet store that was open. The shop had a window, and the boy could see a plethora of animals sitting in the cages within.

He pushed open the door, and entered the dark store. The only light was from the few beams of sunlight that filtered through the windows, and a musty smell filled the air. Mixed along with the stenches of all the animals, it was pungent enough to make Harry wrinkle his nose slightly.

Harry gazed at the various beasts that were present in the shop. He saw dozens of owls, all of different colour and size, in cages hanging from the ceiling. There were also many cats, prowling in their own cages, lazily snarling at each other occasionally.

Suddenly he heard a soft yet sharp voice, almost like a forced whisper. He turned around to see a cage that looked to be empty. But after a moment of looking at it carefully, he realised that it had merely seemed empty due to the lack of light. On the floor of the cage was a rather thin, yet long snake. It's scales were mostly a deep black, but a line of dark green scales ran down the centre of its formed, although one could hardly tell.

The sounds continued, and it took Harry a while to realise that it was coming from the snake itself. Harry leaned down cautiously, so as to listen better. As he sat down, he could see the snake's forked tongue probe out of its mouth as it spoke.

§You carry the magic of the Great Parselmouth. It is faint, but cannot be missed. The magic is in your blood.§

Harry felt that he might be losing his mind if he believed that snakes could talk. But he managed to convince his reasoning that with all the things that he had learned were true, this just might be one of them.

§How is it that someone with the ability has appeared before me? What may I do for you sire?§

Harry forced himself to not think of how weird his actions may be before he replied. §What do you mean by someone like me? And how can I understand what you're saying?§

§You speak the noble language of serpents, sire. The questions you have just posed prove that you are fluent in Parseltongue.§ The snake responded in its whisper like voice.

Harry grew even further confused at this. §But I cant speak any language other than English. How can you understand me?§ The wizard inquired.

The snake made a sound that Harry felt was some kind of laughter. §Parseltongue is not something that can merely be learnt. The speaker must have a magical affinity for it. You evidently have great magical ability, and if I am correct, you have the magic of the legendary Plarselmouth in you. That grants you to the ability to communicate with our kind without any practice. It is a natural ability that you're born with.§

Harry had just about opened his mouth to ask more, when he heard heavy footsteps fall behind him. He stood up and turned around to see a large man who might even be able to match up with his uncle Vernon.

"What're you doing here, boy? Scram, or I'm gonna git you!" The large man bellowed angrily.

Harry felt his instincts yelling at him to obey the man, but he stood his ground, steeling his nerves as he spoke up. "I'm here to get a pet."

"Is that so? In that case, which one of em do you fancy?" The man said with a glint in his eye, seeing a great opportunity to make quick money.

Harry took a quick look of the entire shop, but found his gaze once again falling upon the serpent that was in the cage behind him. He made up his mind, and replied with a tone of finality. "I'll take this snake."

The smile on the shopkeeper's face fell momentarily, before he forced it back up. "But that's nothing but a common garden snake. I'm sure you'd prefer something of greater value."

The young wizard answered immediately in a more firm tone. "I'm sure I'll just take the snake. How much is it for?"

The man sighed in defeat. "The snake's ten Galleons, but I'll give you the cage with it for twenty."

Harry considered it briefly, but he decided against it. He knew that it would be wrong to cage the creature, so he pulled out only ten Galleons. "I'll take just the snake, mister."

"Alright, but don't say I didn't warn you." After accepting the money, the man kneeled as he unlocked the cage, before pulling out the snake rather roughly. He dropped it into Harry's hands, where the snake coiled itself around his forearm. Harry had underestimated its length, as it seemed to be nearly three feet long. His small form found it hard to keep balanced with the animal on him, but he soon grew used to it as he stumbled out of the pet store, still carrying his bag of books.

He decided to return to his room, and on the way, he stopped at Madame Malkin's. He was pleased to see that his clothes had been made, and was even happier when he saw that Madame Malkin had put in a complimentary cloak, which had a black exterior, while the inside was the deep purple he had chosen earlier, with the hems being embroidered with a sharp blue. He thanked the woman very graciously, but she chose to merely brush it off with a chuckle. "It's the least I could do for such a cute little customer." She had said, pinching his cheeks lightly.

When Harry finally arrived in his room, he saw it was much tidier than when he had left it, proof that housekeeping had made a visit. He dropped the bags on his bed, before pulling the gold pouch and the leather bound diary from his pockets and putting them on the bed. He then pulled the curtains over his windows, and proceeded to change into a pair of blue jeans, and a purple shirt. He also allowed the snake to roam around on the floor.

He was amazed at how comfortable the the clothes felt, although it could be just due to the fact that they were new. He wasn't exactly used to new clothes. He marvelled at the quality of it, and couldn't help but feel giddy at the fact that he had new clothes all for himself.

He pulled out his new robe and examined the colours. He was glad to have allowed Madame Malkin to choose for him, as he really liked the purple, which was complemented by the blue design.

He carefully stacked all his clothes inside the wardrobe, before he turned to the serpent. §What is so special about me that allows me to talk to snakes.§

§We refer to those with your abilities as Parselmouths. And it is usually a natural ability for those who have the magic of the first Parselmouth, Salazar Slytherin, like you.§ The snake spoke, and the boy could feel the great reverence it held for the man it mentioned.

Harry cocked his head in confusion. Who the heck was this Salazar Slytherin, and why did the snake say he had his magic? Seemed like he was up for a long conversation.

Author's Notes:

Hi guys and gals, this is still a repost from my other account to here. I'm trying to collect all my work into one place, to organize it a little.

Other than that there isn't much I have to say. So, I hope you enjoyed reading, if you have any questions please feel free to PM or review.

Peace Out

Kofukuna Shi No Kami