Diagon
A/N: To be clear, most of the "aura" of the orphanage that Snape dealt with via Cheering Charm was him projecting his own anxieties about the boy onto the physical environment. Thanks to the charm, he was able to see past his negative emotions to be more objective in his evaluation of Harry. He isn't aware of this, however. He'll fall in line with his normal characterization when the spell wears off.
I will spoil another thing, which old readers may have understood - the mysterious companion is NOT Voldemort's Horcrux. Harry is not holding onto a piece of Voldemort's soul at all. Furthermore, I'm not entirely sure I will use Horcruxes at all. I'm sure everyone is bored of reading about scavenger hunts by now, so I'll try to think of something else to explain Voldemort's supposed immortality
'And now, to really sell that I'm a desirable student.' "Oh, sir, you may call me Harry if you like."
Snape's mask thoroughly broke at that point, but Harry couldn't read whatever emotions crossed his face. Unfortunately, the man regained control over himself only moments later, leaving Harry even more confused than before. "Very well... Harry. We must be off."
Snape nodded to himself, and stood. He stretched out for a moment, then pulled his stick out of his sleeve again. 'Or is that a magic wand?' Harry asked himself.
Snape did a couple precise movements, then put his wand back in his sleeve. He opened the door, and gestured for Harry to leave the room.
Joykill was waiting for them just, leaning against the wall, and sucking on a half finished cigarette. She narrowed her eyes, took another puff, then, all but snarling, said, "Are you done wasting all of our time? No means no."
Snape didn't bother with speaking to her. He just pointed his wand at her face, and whispered a word. Joykill's face went slack as she dropped her cigarette, and Snape said, "We're going out to shop for his school supplies. You have given your blessing for this outing and his attendance."
Snape put his wand away and snapped his finger in front of Joykill's face. "Are you alright, Miss?" He asked, a fake concern touching his voice.
"Huh? Oh, yes. Certainly. Enjoy your shopping trip. I'm fine. Goodbye." She then turned and walked away briskly.
Harry tried desperately to contain his laugh and failed, making a horrid snorting noise, which he hoped Snape missed.
Snape didn't miss that, and he shot a glare at Harry. Unfortunately for Snape, the glare's effect was undercut by the slight smirk of amusement on the Professor's face.
The Professor escorted Harry past the gates, and when they were out of sight of the Manor, Snape gently grabbed Harry by the shoulder. "This will be unpleasant, but don't worry, it's completely safe."
Suddenly, all sensation was cut off, except for feeling like he was being squeezed through a tube. He tried to take a breath but couldn't. Panic began to set in, when, just as suddenly, the experience ended. Harry suppressed his nausea with sheer force of will, though only just. 'I'm not going to puke on the guy getting me out of that place,' he told himself.
After a moment, he composed himself, then said nonchalantly, "That is the worst experience I've ever had." He looked around the deserted alley way the two were in, and noted the busy urban environment. "Wait, are we in London?"
"Wonderful powers of observation," Snape drawled sarcastically, though his voice held no malice.
"How did we travel so quickly? And can you teach me how to do it myself?"
"The magic is called Apparition, and considering that it is highly difficult and dangerous, nobody under the age of fifteen is legally allowed to learn it. Almost nobody under the age of thirteen is physically capable of casting the magic, either. Simply put, your magical core is far too underdeveloped to hold the raw power needed."
"So where are we heading?" Harry asked Snape, suppressing his disappointment over that.
"We are near the entrance to Diagon Alley, one of the main shopping areas of Wizarding Britain, and the largest in England," Snape replied. "I didn't bring us directly into Diagon Alley for two reasons. Firstly, you need to be able to find it from the Muggle side, at least while you live on this side."
He stopped to sigh. "Secondly, you're a... celebrity, for lack of a better word, to the mages of Britain. What do you know of your life prior to the Orphanage?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Deadbeat drunk parents drove their car off a cliff, and my next guardians beat me regularly for no reason until they nearly killed me and got sent to prison."
Snape nearly growled in poorly suppressed fury, and Harry took a step back instinctively.
The man composed himself, then sighed. He proceeded to explain, as calmly as he could manage.
"Your parents weren't drunks. Your mother was certainly not a 'deadbeat', either. She was a talented, knowledgeable, and personable witch. A friend of mine, in fact. And they didn't die in a car crash - they were killed by a terrorist."
"I'm sorry, what? I'll believe you that they weren't completely useless, but where does a terrorist fit in?" Harry asked, incredulously.
Snape sighed, and pinched the bridge of his beak-like nose. He shook his head, sighed again, then began talking.
"I'd recommend you get, and read, some books on recent history in the Wizarding World, Britain in particular, during this trip. However, I'll tell you what you need to know right now.
"In the seventies, a powerful, and evil, wizard appeared on the scene, calling himself Lord... Voldemort. He quickly got the official legal label of a Dark Lord when he attracted an army of disaffected bigots, bored rich kids, and desperate dark creatures. In addition to the official law enforcement response to his threat, several vigilante groups arose to fight him. Your parents belonged to one such group.
"In 1981, he was defeated, destroyed, or otherwise driven away when he attacked a house, hidden away in a mixed Muggle/magical town known as 'Godric's Hollow.' Living in that house were your parents, and you. Your parents were both found dead on the scene, but you were alive and unharmed, save for an odd, inexplicable cut on your forehead. When the Dark Lord didn't reappear in the weeks, months, and years following, he was generally believed to be dead, and you, his vanquisher. Exactly what happened, however, is unknown."
"So. To sum up, apparently I killed this evil bastard as a baby? Wait, you also said I was a celebrity. So, he's dead, my parents are dead, I likely did nothing, and I survived - probably from sheer luck - and now I'm famous." Harry caught on to what this story was driving at.
"Yes, that is about the case. Your scar is going to get you recognized. If you want to remain unknown, it would be best to cover it." Snape suggested.
"Is there magic you can do to make it invisible or something?" Harry asked. "It sounds like this will be unavoidable when I get into the magical world for real, but I'd like to at least get an introduction without being mobbed."
Snape's expression didn't change, but Harry sensed that he had said the right thing. Snape replied, "Yes, I can do a spell. It won't change anything, and won't work in a reflection, but it will stop anyone from seeing your scar if they look at it directly. It's called the Notice-Me-Not charm."
"Yes, please. It sounds like exactly what we need."
Snape pointed his wand at Harry's forehead, and after a few miniscule movements and quiet muttering, Harry felt a tingling sensation on his forehead. The man led the boy out of the alley, and pointed out road signs and several noticeable buildings to him. "If you can remember these roads and buildings, it will help you to find your way back here in the future," Snape told Harry, who nodded and committed the local area to his memory.
After a few minutes of this, Snape pointed out a drabby pub that looked like it had been put up in the 1700s. It stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the sleek modern buildings surrounding it. "This here," Snape sneered, disdain in his voice, "is a pub called 'The Leaky Cauldron.' It has terrible food, creaky floors, and watered down drinks. But it is the hidden access point to Diagon Alley from the Muggle side."
"Hidden? It rather stands out, in my opinion," Harry replied incredulously.
"Magic," Snape smirked, then he turned serious. "There is a specific ward that repels those who possess no magical core. They cannot detect what's inside through any means, until they cross the wards. There's another set of wards that makes it so that the more determined a Muggle is to cross into an area, the more powerful a sense of dread they begin to feel as they near the ward. Those two combined are referred to as 'Muggle Repelling Wards,' and are the best way we currently know of to keep magic secret in Muggle areas. They literally have to be dragged across the ward lines, despite the lack of a physical barrier."
Snape led Harry into the bar, and after a cold acknowledgment of the barkeeper, he led Harry out of the back door, into a dead end, blocked off by a brick wall.
By now, Harry was coming to the conclusion that nothing was as it seemed in the Wizarding World, and he simply waited for Snape to reveal the secret of this spot. He didn't have to wait very long, because Snape pointed out a four brick pattern on the wall, then tapped those bricks, in order, with his wand.
The wall split, and slid open in what should have been an awe inspiring vision for a boy who had never seen magic on this scale before. Harry, though, was much more amazed by the people on the other side. People of every skin tone, and with heights ranging from shorter than him to taller than anyone he'd ever seen were walking around the large road, talking boisterously and laughing happily.
The "Alley" was actually a street, with several side roads. Shops of every kind, from restaurants and grocery stores to places of a sort he'd never even imagined before, lined up the whole length of this street. At the end lay a gigantic marble building designed with Roman columns and a massive triangular roof. Giant gold coloured letters spelled out "Gringott's Bank" over doors that were so large that they were clearly visible even down here.
A giant light blue circle, maybe three metres in diameter, lay several meters to the left of the entrance that Harry stood in. As he watched, a family of four appeared in the circle with a loud crack, and they quickly hurried out of the circle, before slowing down to a leisurely stroll down the street.
In the shadows of the turn off immediately to Harry's right, a pair of cloaked figures stepped out, their hoods set in such an angle that their faces were completely shaded. Despite the heat of the day, every inch of the pair's skin was covered. "Vampires," Snape said. Harry started, and looked at the Professor.
"Judging from the outfits, those two may be vampires. They have to wear similar outfits to those in order to protect themselves from the sun's rays. Don't worry, most vampires feed ethically from willingly donated blood, and even those who don't can't feed in the daylight." Snape clarified.
Harry was taken aback. "Vampires are real?!" He asked. "What's next, werewolves, ghosts and demons?"
"Yes, to all of those, but I'm sure the Muggle imaginings are inaccurate. For instance, the Christian idea of demons is partially based on some of the darkest gods of the Magic pantheon."
"Mages have a whole pantheon of gods?" Harry was truly lost at this point.
Snape sighed. "I'll help you pick out some books on the culture and recent history of Wizarding Britain. If you want to fit in, you'll be expected to conform to the norms and traditions, at least most of them. Hogwarts used to have classes for the Muggle raised students coming in to understand the world they're joining, but Dumbledore cut them when he became Headmaster."
"Alright, thank you, Professor. I would greatly appreciate that. Where should we begin?"
"First, we need to go to the bank. Your family left quite a bit of money for you when they died. You're hardly the wealthiest man in Wizarding Britain, but you're well off enough that with a good budget, you'd never need to work in your life. Needless to say, I don't recommend that choice."
"More than I thought I had yesterday," Harry said cheerily. "Lead the way."
Snape led Harry down the large street to the giant building, pointing out several important stores along the way, such as two tailors, a wand maker, and a huge bookstore, among others. Finally, the odd pair made it to the bank doors, and they went in.
Snape's expression and body language promptly became cold. He stood straighter and affected a sneer. He walked purposefully towards the nearest available teller, a bald creature of short stature with beady black eyes, sharp teeth, and pointed ears. It wore an immaculate suit with a gold G emblazoned on the left breast of its blazer.
Harry realized he wasn't following the Professor, and walked quickly to catch up with Snape, who quickly reached the monstrous bank teller and waited for acknowledgement. A minute after Harry came alongside Snape, the teller finally looked up from its paperwork. "What do you want, mages?" The creature rasped out, its teeth clicking oddly on consonant sounds. Its voice sounded like it belonged to a man who had been smoking for nearly forty years.
Snape replied, his sneer muted somewhat, "I am here to accompany this young boy to his vault. Vault Number Six Hundred and Eighty Seven. I have the key, and you can test the boy's blood if you so desire."
"Wait, don't I get a choice in that?"
"Not if you want to be able to go to Hogwarts."
Harry paused. "Fair enough," he allowed after a moment to think about it.
The creature grunted in annoyance. "Time is money, mages!" It snarled. "The key! Now!"
Snape's sneer returned in full force. He dug the key out of his pocket, and handed it to the teller, who inspected it. The teller demanded, "Your hand, boy."
Harry hesitantly held out his left hand as the teller pulled out an ornate knife of some kind. The creature cut a small line on the tip of Harry's index finger, and captured a drop on the blade of the knife before releasing Harry's hand. Snape waved his wand over the cut, which vanished immediately, leaving no mark behind.
After a minute of the teller doing... whatever it was doing, it nodded. It pressed a button on its desk and handed the key to Harry. It began to drone some information to him in its odd, raspy and click filled manner of speaking.
"Vault Six Eighty Seven. Formerly belonged to James and Lily Potter, bequeathed to Harry Potter on the occasion of their death. Seventeen thousand two hundred forty six Galleons, fourteen Sickles, and twenty Knuts. An inactivity fee of naught point five percent of the contents, rounded down to the nearest Galleon, will be charged for each year it has been inactive. This totals eight hundred forty three Galleons.
"Interest of one point seven percent, the value agreed upon in the contract signed by your parents, rounded down to the nearest Galleon, will also be applied, for each year since the Vault has last been opened. This totals three thousand, one hundred sixty six Galleons. The net gain to your account is two thousand, three hundred twenty three Galleons, for a new total of nineteen thousand, five hundred sixty nine Galleons, fourteen Sickles, and twenty Knuts.
"You will receive interest yearly as long as the account remains active, paid when the Vault is opened. Inactivity in excess of twenty years will result in the closure of your account, with a nonrefundable fee equivalent to the contents of your Vault."
Harry asked, "Do I have to actually carry the physical money with me when I do my shopping? Muggles have credit cards, do mages have something similar?"
"Gringott's will draw up promissory notes in excess of one hundred Galleons for a five percent fee, or under one hundred for a five Galleon fee," the creature smiled evilly.
Harry nodded, and looked toward Snape. "I have no idea how much my shopping trip will cost. Will I need enough money for this to be worth it?"
Snape shook his head. "It is unlikely that your entire trip combined will end up using that amount of money. However, there are some supplies, such as a well enchanted trunk, or an entirely new wardrobe that may run you a large enough amount. However, a note can only be used for one business, and for the exact, full amount. I don't recommend it for today."
"Alright, to the Vault it is," Harry affirmed. "How do we get there?"
Instead of answering Harry, the creature hopped off of its stool, and walked away. Harry was taken aback, but before he could yell to get its attention, Snape tapped his shoulder.
"Goblins," the man sneered. "He's getting a lower ranked goblin to drive us to your Vault."
"Are they all... like that?"
"Rude, and filled with hatred for humans? Yes. They most certainly are. The feelings are, for the most part, mutual. A dozen or so wars over the last millennium can attest to that. Don't worry, you'll cover all of them, in detail, at Hogwarts." The way Snape said that made Harry feel as though he would not enjoy the experience, despite how fascinating the topic sounded at first.
"So if we all hate each other, why did we give them control over the money supply?"
"Half of the wars we fought were because the Goblins wanted control over Wizarding gold. Eventually, we simply decided that this would be the best compromise. Mages still get to use and own the gold, but the Goblins have control over it. And, as you have seen, they charge exorbitant fees. They make a killing through usury. I must confess, I don't know what they do with their profits, but they must be buying something, or the economy would have collapsed from lack of gold by now."
The goblin teller returned, accompanied by another goblin who looked identical to the first but was dressed rather like a miner. "This is Griphook," the teller said. "He will be driving you to your Vault today."
"Thank you, Griphook," Harry said, feigning gratitude. Griphook didn't reply. He only turned and began walking, and Snape moved to follow him. Harry followed as well. A few minutes later, the three of them climbed into a minecart, which Griphook activated. They blasted down the tracks at a speed Harry couldn't comprehend.
Finally, they reached his Vault, and Harry pulled out what must have been at least two hundred Galleons (but he wasn't counting) and a couple handfuls each of Sickles and Knuts, so he wouldn't have to make change constantly. Snape loaned Harry a bag, charmed to be weightless and able to hold any amount of money put inside, with the expectation that Harry would buy one of his own today.
They rocketed back up to the surface, and Snape and Harry quickly left the bank, feeling queasy. Ar Harry's request, they stopped for a bite to eat at a nearby cafe. Their stomachs settled, Snape led Harry to Ollivander's Wand Shop, where Harry would get the wand that he would most likely use for the rest of his life. The pair went in, and the old man at the counter smiled at them.
"Severus Snape, good to see you again. Have you finally changed your mind and decided to buy a wand from a real wand maker today?"
Snape sneered. "No, my wand is quite sufficient. The boy is here for his first wand. I should hope it is up to my standards. I'll be disappointed if I have to look elsewhere. Again."
"Of course, of course," the man said, his smile never diminishing through Snape's verbal assault. He looked at Harry. "As I live and breathe! Harry Potter! You know, I made the wands your parents used."
"So, if you have been doing this for this long, you must be one of the best?" Harry tried his hand at flattery. It might help him get a cheaper price at the very least.
"My family has been making wands since before Britain gained its independence from Rome," Ollivander chuckled. "The techniques have certainly changed since then, but we remain the best at what we do."
Harry thought that must be a lie, or at least an exaggeration. Surely nobody could trace their lineage back two thousand years, let alone state with certainty what their ancestor's professions were. However, he didn't voice his doubts. "So, how much for one of your wands?" He asked, getting to business.
"First, we have to find your perfect match!" Ollivander exclaimed. "It's the wand that chooses the wizard, you know!"
Ollivander took several measurements, such as Harry's height, and the length of his arm. Then, he grabbed six boxes. "If I'm judging you correctly," the old man said, "one of these should be perfect for you. Try this one," he said, handing one to Harry.
Harry opened the box, as Ollivander said, "twelve inches, willow, and unicorn hair." Harry went to touch it, but it felt... wrong. He shook his head.
"No, I don't think this one likes me," Harry replied. "It feels like it's pushing me away."
Ollivander grumbled, and set aside two of the other boxes as he took back and set aside the wand he had handed Harry first. He handed one of the remaining three to Harry. "Nine inches, poplar, phoenix feather." This wand didn't react at all as Harry swished it through the air.
Ollivander took it back, and handed Harry another. "Eleven inches, aspen, with a heartstring from an Andean Horror Dragon." Even as Harry took it out, he felt like he was finding a piece of himself that he never knew existed. As he touched it, it released a small stream of blue flame that Ollivander deftly dispelled.
"There it is," Ollivander said proudly. "Twenty seven Galleons."
Harry happily paid the price.
Selene smiled to herself. Her plans were right on track. It had been many centuries since she gave up on her hopes of ascending to a major goddess in the Pantheon. Since the last War among the gods had ended, and the Truce re-established. All the gods had been weakened, but she had been even further sidelined in the new order.
However, a new piece on the board had come into play. A helpless baby boy had cried out in fear, and stretching the definition of "asking for help," she gave him her blessing. It was rare that a god could alter the path of a mortal who had been touched by Fate, but this Prophecy was vague. So long as he killed the one he was destined to, Selene could have her claim.
Though they were disgusted by her blatant move for power, since it was within the limits of their Truce, the other gods were likewise bound by the Truce. They could not directly act against Selene's weapon, nor could they send their own followers until the boy himself knew what he was. However, Selene was running out of time. If she did not inform him soon and strike a Pact, her claim would be forever revoked. Another would step in, and her plans would be unraveled.
She had guided his path, calling in old favours and incurring new debts with her peers to subtly alter the whims of the mortals the boy encountered. She sent the first and greatest of her blessed to guide the boy, though he had been instructed to hide until the boy was ready.
Soon after, her mortal toy would gain the social and political power to bring her worship to a new height, which would result in her own power among her peers growing. But that wasn't the end of her plans. Oh no, it was just the beginning.
But for now, she had a visit to make. She had to inform her devotees of the change in their fortunes.
A/N: As I'm sure you all noticed, I brutally screwed up the fee and interest the first go around. I fixed them! Ah, the wonderful world of math and usury.