A/N: Okay, so I've been having major writers block with this story, so I wasn't going to post anything until I either got over it or decided I wasn't going to continue on. However, I've figured I'll just post my already posted chapters and hopefully something will hit me when I see some reviews.

So, you all know what that means, please leave me a little something, and hopefully i'll get more inspired soon! Thanks, all :)

Diagon Alley

The next morning Harry woke with a start. He sat up yawning and blearily put on his glasses. His watch blinked 6:25, five minutes before his alarm was set to go off. But unlike most children his age, he didn't lie back down and wait for the beep. Today, he was far too excited.

He leapt from his bed, taking half the covers with him, and threw on his best clothes which were still incredibly shabby and about five sizes too big. Harry plucked at them forlornly. He wished he could look more presentable going into town, but he would just have to make due.

He pulled on his trainers, brushed his teeth, struggled to comb his hair flat (to no avail) and ran down the stairs to the kitchen at roughly a quarter to seven. Snape was already there, looking rather peculiar wearing a normal suit and tie instead of his customary robes. But then again, Harry thought, he couldn't exactly go traipsing around London in that, could he?

"Good morning," said Harry, rather more cheerfully than he had meant.

"Morning, Potter," Snape replied coldly, trying to hide his astonishment that the boy would address him at all. "Eat quickly, we have a bit of a trip today."

"But wait," said Harry through a mouthful of toast, "couldn't we just, you know, 'pop!' and be there? Like yesterday."

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. "First, Potter, do not talk while you are eating. Second, I think it would be best to arrive normally so we do not draw attention to ourselves. We will be taking the 7:10 train into London this morning, so please hurry up."

At 7:08 exactly Harry and Snape arrived on the platform to the metro train that would carry them into the city. They boarded quickly, Snape taking the lead and pulling Harry through the aisle looking for a vacant compartment. After a good ten minutes of searching they still hadn't found one.

"Sir," said Harry spotting a compartment with only one other passenger, a rather senile- looking old woman, "what about this one? There's only one…" But he was cut off by a growl from Snape.

"No, Potter. We cannot have anyone else in our compartment." He didn't elaborate further. Thankfully, it was then when they found an empty room, and Snape roughly pulled Harry into it. They sat opposite each other, and Snape started to rummage in his robes, pulling out his wand a second later. Scowling as he appraised Harry's clothes, he gave the wand a wide 'swish!' and Harry found his shirt and pants shrinking until they fit almost as if they had been tailored for him specifically. His eyes widened and the left corner of his mouth curled up into a reserved half-smile. Snape looked him up and down again and, apparently approving of what he saw, refocused his attention on Harry's face.

"Look at me, Potter," he said, his voice suddenly devoid of the gruffness it had possessed only a minute previous.

Harry looked up straight into his black eyes and Snape raised his wand so that it was almost touching the tip of Harry's nose. "Camerla," he said, flicking his wand up slightly. Harry looked around, trying to figure out what Snape had done, but saw nothing. It was then he noticed that his scalp was tingling and growing slightly hot. Reaching up to tough it he realized his hair was no longer the untidy mess it usually was. It was sleek and growing at an accelerated pace. Soon, Harry's vision was obscured as his locks grew over his eyes. It stopped just below his chin where it hung limp and lank.

His hair, however, didn't seem to be the only thing changing. Harry's nose was also experiencing the same hotness as his scalp, and when his fingers sought to feel it, found it pushing out at the bridge.

"What did you do that for?" Harry asked indignantly, wondering why his appearance needed to be changed.

"I did not want to be looking at your father's ungrateful face all day," Snape smirked at the crestfallen expression on the boy's face. "But more importantly, I do not think that it would be a good idea that you be seen with me in public, at least not yet anyway."

Harry was disappointed by Snape's discouraging answer. "Why? Am I that much of a freak?" he shot back spitefully. "That's why my aunt and uncle don't take me out."

Snape's smirk shrank slightly. "Actually, no, Potter. It is simply that people might get suspicious if they see me with Potter's son. Do not argue and do not ask questions. You will introduce yourself as Tom Snape and you are my father's great nephew. Clear?"

"Yes, sir," Harry grumbled. He wanted to question this, but didn't think it was a good idea to incite Snape's anger before they even got to London.

They didn't talk for a while longer. Harry spent most of his time staring out the window, not because the landscape particularly interested him, but rather because he was trying to catch his reflection in the dirty glass. From the flashing glimpses he was able to get, he could see that he looked almost unrecognizable and much more like the man sitting across from him. He frowned, wondering if this was more of the 'punishment' Snape had talked about.

When they got to the station, Snape swept quickly out of the compartment and off the train, not even glancing behind to see if Harry was following him. Harry had to jog slightly to keep on his heels, and ran into his back with a soft thud when the man stopped abruptly.

"Watch where you are going, Potter," he hissed. "Now which way…" he muttered to himself. He looked up and down the street as though trying to decide where they were, but after only about a minute Snape turned on his heel and strode left up the street. They had walked only a few blocks when the man unexpectedly stepped into a shady pub that Harry would have never noticed otherwise.

As soon as they stepped inside, the noise of the street was completely silenced and was replaced by a dusty sort of quiet punctuated only by the buzz of several hushed conversations.

"Severus!" a voice spoke up, breaking through the thick air. "What can we do for you?" It was the bartender who spoke, as he came over to Snape and Harry while wiping down a very old, chipped glass.

"Nothing today, Tom," he said politely. "Maybe later, but I need to get some errands done before the alley becomes too suffocated with people."

"Yes, yes, very well. But ah! Who's this you have with you?"" He bent down to Harry's level, which wasn't much lower because of the bartender's bad back.

"This is a boy after your own name, Tom Snape. He is a cousin on my father's side." His voice was still as pleasant as Harry had ever heard it, but a slight undertone made it clear that he did not wish to answer any more questions on the subject.

Tom the bartender must have caught the hint, because he quickly straightened up as much as he could and looked back at Snape. "How nice," he said. "Hopefully we will see you and your cousin again later. Have a good day." He shuffled back behind the counter, still working on the hopeless mug.

"Come on," Snape said gruffly, walking out a door to the back of the pub. They stepped into a tiny brick courtyard with a couple of trashcans and no other way to get out. Harry was curious, and also a little wary. But Snape was paying no attention to him, rather he was counting the bricks over the trashcans and muttering something under his breath which Harry couldn't catch. Snape gave the wall a final tap and stood back as the brick started to split, opening on its own accord to a world beyond.

Harry blinked. He let out an involuntary gasp and stepped over the threshold. "Where are we?" he asked, eyes nearly popping out of his head as he watched people in robes and funny hats scurrying about. He turned to Snape questioningly, but gave another jolt of surprise we he saw that the man was no longer dressed in the plain black suit he had put on this morning. Rather, his customary black robes were back in place. "Whoa, when did you….?"

"Diagon Alley," Snape cut him off. "Come on, I see there is already a crowd." He started swiftly up the street, not pausing to look at any of the fascinating items in the shop windows. Harry jogged to keep up, but nearly lost his guide several times when he saw some magical item that just couldn't be ignored.

He was wondering where they were going when he suddenly saw an intimidating large white marble building seemingly rise out of the ground in front of them. He gawked as he realized they were headed right for it and sped up his pace to catch Snape. A minute later they passed through the gilded doors and into a foyer larger than any Harry had ever seen before. They walked up to one of the counters and met with a very strange creature.

The goblin, as Harry learned the thing was, led them through a back door and into a rather dark room after a hastily whispered conversation with Snape.

"Where are we going?" Harry spoke softly. He had the strongest sensation that this was not a place to go shouting about your business. Knowing Snape, he wasn't really expecting the man to tell him anything other than to keep his mouth shut and follow.

He was therefore surprised when the man answered in a low voice. "My vault, and then yours. After all, money is slightly essential if we want to buy anything today." His tone dripped with sarcasm, but didn't hold any of the sharpness of the day before.

"Money? But I don't have any money? Why would we go to my vault?"

"Of course you have money," Snape snapped. "Your parents died, they didn't vanish their assets too." He frowned slightly, but said no more.

Harry was, for what seemed like the millionth time since Dumbledore had first arrived on his doorstep, taken unawares. He had money? That would be a first! But what would he buy? There were so many possibilities!

The rumbling cart they rode in made a sudden stop in front of what Harry assumed was Snape's vault door. "Stay here," he hissed, leaving Harry behind as he surreptitiously went through his vault. Harry wondered why Snape didn't want him to see inside, but respected his privacy all the same.

He came back to the cart with a small bag in his hands that clinked with coins, and then rapped twice on the door indicating to the goblin that he was ready. And they were off again. Harry was enjoying the roller coaster ride immensely, but curbed the impulse to let out a yell when he saw Snape's unflinching, ever stoic face.

Only about a minute later the cart made another abrupt halt. He and Snape clambered out and came to stand in front of the door. Snape rummaged through the inside of his robe and pulled out a tiny, silver key with his long, pale fingers.

The key fit perfectly in the lock, and when it was turned, Harry could hear a tandem of clicking sounds on the inside of the door as if a hundred locks were being released. The door swung open with relative ease, but a large cloud of dust obscured the contents of the vault and they had to wait for several seconds before it cleared out.

Harry gasped. The mounds upon mound of sliver, gold, and bronze were so far beyond anything he had ever hoped to dream of that his denial was, at first, acute. "No," he said under his breathe as he tried to step out of the vault. "No way!"

However, as he began to back out, he hit a very solid object that seemed to bring him back to reality. He looked up into the face of his guardian only to see that a rather shocked look was plastered on his face. After only a flash, though, his unreadable expression was back up again.

"Is this…is this really all mine?" Harry gawked at the coins.

"I will ignore that rather stupid question if you hurry up. Here," he thrust a small bag into Harry's hand, "get as much as you would like. But remember, although it looks like a lot right now, you have to live on this for the next ten years of your life, so use it wisely."

Harry nodded, not really allowing any of what Snape said to sink in. He quickly piled as much as he could into the sack; he could worry about prudence later.

The ride back to the main foyer of Gringotts was made in uncomfortable silence. Snape, for his part, was still trying to comprehend the amount of money in Potter's vault. He had always known that the Potters were well off, but never that much so. The tiny, and unacknowledged speck of jealousy that Snape had always garnered for the pampered Potter's position grew a bit more, though he would die before admitting it.

He did realize however, that the warning he gave Potter was very real, and that his vault was, more than anything, an illusion of wealth. Without supplements to that pile of gold or a stingy hand with money, he may have a difficult time paying for everything in his later years at Hogwarts

When they stepped back out of the building Harry eyes were so adjusted to the darkness of the bank that it took him a few seconds to readjust the blinding sunlight. There were more people in the Alley now, but Harry had eyes only for the merchandise. How much money was he holding and how much could he buy with it?

Snape was already headed off up the street so Harry was obliged to follow. They visited the apothecary and some shop for cauldrons, but the one place that really caught Harry's eye was the bookstore.

He had never been much of a reader, but, just as he had felt while looking at the titles in Snape's library, Harry was inexorably drawn to these books. He was perusing the shelves, trying to choose which one he wanted to take home when he felt a looming shadow over his shoulder. "Sir?" he said looking up into Snape's scowling face, "I was…I was just wondering if I could by a book or two to take back to my aunt and uncle's?" Harry's eyes were pleading, though he didn't realize it.

"Of course. It would help to jog that mind before you come back next summer. But these," he made a small gesture to the shelf Harry had been looking at, "are not suitable subject matter for a child such as yourself. Follow me." He turned on his heel and led to a part of the store where all the shelves were within Harry's reach, and the book covers were more fancifully decorated.

Snape bent over, scanning the titles with his eyebrows pinched as though looking for something specific. He must have found it, because a small smirk of triumph curled his lips and he stood up with a rather small, but rather thick emerald green tome with no title on it. He stepped back over to Harry and held it out for him.

"You may get another book if you wish, but I think it necessary for you to at least be familiar with these if you wish to fit in with the wizarding community when you are older. This is a collection of wizard myths and fairy tales that every young wizard is told while growing up. I do not wish for you to appear more ignorant than you already are when someone mentions the Ouroboros and you stare back at them blankly."

"Th-thank," Harry stuttered. Was this actual kindness from Snape? Behind the insult, of course. No, he just didn't want Harry to blow his cover, that's all. He was posing as someone who had grown up in the wizarding world after all. He turned back to the shelves and picked a book called, 'A Diminutive Guide to Defense Against the Dark Arts' before going to the counter to check out. The cashier helped him sort out the money, and he laid down one galleon and two silver sickles for the two books.

He met up outside with Snape who had already checked out before Harry and the two of them made their way down the street. He knew they were going to go home soon, but there was one thing he wanted to do before leaving London.

"Uh, Snape?" he inquired timidly. The man's raised eyebrow told Harry he was listening. "I was just wondering if, on the way back to the train, we could maybe stop and I could get some normal, muggle clothes? I mean…"

"Very well," Snape cut him off. "But you have to make it quick, our train leaves in about an hour." The man looked down and him, showing his slight displeasure. But when Snape's eyes looked back to the street he stopped dead in his tracks and grabbed Harry by the back of his t-shirt. He swerved quickly to the right, pulling Harry with him. He had just seen a face that he had really hoped to avoid today…

"Your name is Tom Snape, remember that," he whispered fervently into Harry ear as he pulled the boy to the nearest open shop. "Your name is Tom Snape."

Harry tried to look at him questioningly, but was so focused on not tripping that all he managed to do was spit out a strangled, "What's going on?"

"Snape!" called a smooth voice from behind them. Snape stopped suddenly and let out a groan so that only Harry could hear. He turned around slowly as he composed himself.

Harry turned too, trying to catch a glimpse of who had called Snape's name. He saw a rather regal looking man with long, perfectly straight, silver-blonde hair and a snake-headed walking stick. The odd expression that seemed to blend a smirk with pursed lips said that he obviously wasn't expecting to see Snape in Diagon Alley, but was not disappointed to have done so.

The man's eyes fell from Snape's face to Harry's own and at that moment he knew that this man was trouble. He stared straight back, however, forcing his face to stay expressionless as he had seen Snape do so many times.

The blond man raised his eyebrow and lost any hint of displeasure or surprise. "And who, may I ask, is this, Snape?" he said delicately.

Snape looked at him, stony faced, "Hello Lucius, this is a distant cousin of mine, Tom Snape."