Chapter 7: 6 months later

It was once again summer and Harry had just enjoyed his 18th birthday. His aunt and uncle Dursley had helped him to achieve countless things. He presently had an apartment of his own and he had a car of his own. He had been strong in training. He had taken plenty of time in reading. He kept remembering to interpret things about power resistance in magic without wands and he had succeeded in mentally keeping Voldemort's mind at bay.

His scar hadn't even bothered him since the beginning of his 6th year at Hogwarts. Harry lived in an apartment in a neighborhood that he knew had at least two other wizards nearby so that if he did any magic at all, they would think it were just those wizards.

For months Harry sat in isolation while he worked on his wandless magic. Starting from stirring a simple pea to lifting chairs. But he couldn't stop at levitation if he intended to overcome the dark lord. He began working on more difficult tasks starting from transfiguration all the way to potions. He had gone on numerous online sites where muggles continued to put up fake potions or religious potions such as Wiccan magic and other sorts. Most of the potions were fake, but a few had some promise.

One very much resembled the love potion while others Harry knew for sure were in his potions books. One thing he had been working on that would really come in handy was in the midst of practicing transfiguration, Harry had become an animagus. He was now able to become a stag. Harry had hoped to be a bird of some sort but it seemed with most animagi that whatever your patronus, usually your animagus form was the same. Harry practiced with it more till it became flawless. It wouldn't bode well to spy on someone as a stag and have a human foot.

Time carried on and Harry began to feel lonely. He was starting to believe he needed a break and he was very much right. His once nice beige skin was becoming a milky white and he knew it couldn't be healthy. He decided that just one day of fun couldn't hurt, though it might anger aunt Petunia. She had become incredibly concerned lately about his well being, and often asked him to stay home or call frequently but wouldn't say why.

He decided to go down to the main bookstore around the corner anyway. "Readers Anonymous" was the name, and it was a very peculiar place. The outside of the store looked normal and bricked like the other buildings, but once you pass the doors it was truly a marvelous place. The walls are covered in black and the floor beckoned a blood toned red. Fake spiders fell from the ceiling while all of the bookshelves were made of mirrors.

Dry ice fog just barely covered the floor and created a mist. The store truly gave the presence of a magical place. The mirrors forced you into sections of the bookstore where you wouldn't normally find a book of interest but then, that was the point. The store's purpose was to introduce you to new worlds. Hence the décor.

By bringing you to new genre's you'd never thought to read, you'll end up spending more money there. More importantly it will help you broaden your horizons. At least, that's what Harry thought. He loved this store. It made him feel like he was back at Diagon Alley.

As Harry shopped around he found a lovely black book with mock aged pages and a silver buckle. The edges of the book looked like it had been read numerous times based on how many crevices the binding had. Harry loved these age-old books. They usually held stories of horror and greed, lust and love, deprivation and intimidation. Harry felt a deep presence from the mirror and looked up only to see he was alone.

Harry looked at the cover and it was a potions book. Harry unbuckled the front and opened it. The inside pages were sauterne with a thin layer. As Harry went through the book he had realized that a lot of the potions were real, no in fact all of them were real. Someone had published a real potions book in the muggle world. He was in shock, but reality woke him up as he felt again he was being watched. He looked up and turned around and saw someone dressed in black sitting at a table in the corner of the store. His face covered by a book he currently held and kept glancing over it at Harry.

What if this really was a wizarding store. Had Harry just given himself away? Was this similar to the ministry of magic where you have to be a wizard in order to get in and Harry had managed to enter? He looked around but saw no one that even resembled a wizard. No, he must just be getting paranoid from being locked away.

Although, aunt petunia keeps insisting Harry keep indoors. She gave a new excuse at least once a week on why he ought to stay indoors. "It's getting cold, Simon dear. Wouldn't want you to catch your death." Harry waved the thought from mind and decided to take her advice, best buy the book and go home.

Harry went to the register and the man in the cloak left the shop, Harry had just failed to spot his face. He handed the money to the clerk and left with his book in his bag and began to walk home, when he noticed a lovely café called "The Cozy Brew". Harry decided a cup of tea couldn't hurt and he could enjoy his new book while drinking some tea.

After getting himself some chamomile and lavender tea, he sat down in a corner by the hearth and began to read not noticing his company in the chair. Again, that being watched feeling hit him, and he glanced up slowly just to see whom it was in the seat nearby. A cold current of electricity seemed to go straight through his blood as his eyes fell on a man with coal black eyes, empty and cold.

He recognized those eyes instantly and that hair. That greasy hair, dangling in front of a hooked nose. His skin was sallow and a sickly yellow color. Harry couldn't believe it. Of all places to see him, Harry was sitting in front of the man that watched him die. As Ron would put it, the "bloody fucking git", Professor Severus Snape.

Harry tried to think of a way to sneakily leave but his teacup was full and he had just sat down. He knew Snape well enough; the man was not easily fooled. He would simply leave his book as close to his face as possible, not make any eye contact and drink his tea. If he drank quickly enough, he could leave or even pretend to go to the lavatory.

Then, he could make his leave. Harry began to drink, fast. And at a certain point he really would have to go to the lavatory. Harry got up to go, and when he came back he nearly left till he heard the familiar low tone, and whispering voice. It sent chills up his spine.

"Excuse me, but you left your book."

Harry's heart sat still as he turned around to meet the man face to face.

"Um...thanks. "

Harry spoke nervously and cautiously grabbed the book. All the while, Snape stared into his eyes. Harry had been sure it was his imagination but it seemed his eyes held a bit more warmth than the last time he had seen the man. Snape kept staring all the while and almost got lost. Harry had to make it stop.

"I am sorry but I do need to get going, I'm in a bit of a hurry you see."

Snape snapping out of his trance apologized and quickly left. His black blazer reminded Harry of bellowing black robes that would float endlessly behind his professor. Harry's cell phone began to go off and Harry saw that once again on the caller I.D. was aunt petunia.

Harry had noticed that while his aunt and uncle had accepted him so openly, Dudley had not. Dudley looked at them with a peculiar look and sometimes that of disgust. Dudley didn't pick on him so he wasn't quite sure if Dudley hated him or was just jealous of the attention Harry had received. Harry did find it odd that they called him Simon at ALL times. He had suspected that perhaps it was just easier to believe Harry dead. He knew he had done the same thing in the beginning, but he mustn't tell them what he planned. They'd surely hate him after.

Harry didn't care to linger on thoughts like those, though he knew eventually they would come true. For now, he would enjoy it.