Summary of the last chapter:

Harry and Hermione meet Neville on the train, who has lost his toad. They sit together for the rest of the journey and Neville tells Harry more interesting things about the wizarding world. A girls excitedly asks if they have seen famous 'Harry Potter' and Harry sends her down further down the train, as he is not thrilled by his new celebrity status. They buy cakes from the trolley witch and put on their uniforms when their long journey finally nears its end.

A/N: Thank you all for you lovely reviews, especially those of you I couldn't personally respond to: Mantis Toboggan, Fast Frank, Stromcrow, Amber and Terena. I hope the upcoming chapter answers many of your questions. Also thanks for your opinions on the basilisk! I have a new question concerning Myrtle, who unexpectedly has pushed herself to the fore in my story. What should her ultimate fate be? Going to heaven and finding peace? Or having a new outlook on 'life after death' after making friends and helping in bringing the true culprit to justice? At the moment, she seems to be having fun exploring new possibilities, a bit to my surprise...


Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

The train approached the station, and Harry received a few odd looks due to the fact that he was not wearing a black robe, but a school uniform with another school's emblem. He heard 'You were supposed to put on your school robe!' just about as often as he was confronted with an astonished 'You're Harry Potter!' as his fringe wouldn't remain stuck to his forehead with the wind blowing rather strongly.

The huge man who had introduced himself as Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys, Game and Grounds, had welcomed them with a cheerful 'first years to me, please!' and had led them down towards a lakeshore, where they all boarded little boats. Harry, Hermione and Neville shared theirs with an Irish boy, who had, of course, informed Harry of his identity. Fortunately, Harry was saved from having to say anything in reply, as their gazes were all drawn in by the majestic castle that came into view.

The sight of the brightly illuminated, eight-storey fortress with its jumble of towers and battlements was impressive and beyond anything Harry had ever seen, and he could sense that Tom felt the same breathless awe as he did. Hermione had fallen silent, too, as she took in the sight of the truly magical castle and the underground harbour they were heading for.

Inside the castle, after having climbed an uncountable number of stairs, Harry finally met the famous Professor McGonagall, who had failed to pay him a visit for some reason. As Harry chose to stay in the background, his lack of appropriate apparel never caught her eye when she gave the new students a brief introductory speech. It was Neville who drew her attention when his toad suddenly turned up out of nowhere, and Harry's new friend happily caught him in his arms.

Professor McGonagall left them with instructions to wait, and some of the castle's ghosts came and introduced themselves. Harry was grateful for having read Hermione's book on the train, as he would surely have suffered a heart-attack had he not been forewarned.

He felt the frowning gaze of the redhead on his left come to rest on him, surely another student preparing to inform him who he was. When Harry turned to face the inevitable, he had to suppress a chuckle. The boy had a dark smudge on his forehead, just where Harry had his scar. Suddenly feeling mischievous, Harry opened his mouth in mock amazement as he stared at the boy. "You're Harry Potter!" he exclaimed, before the boy could do so himself. The so addressed, who had already opened his mouth, left it hanging open in surprise, clearly not sure what had just happened.

"Just kidding," Harry said, offering his hand to the redhead with the freckles. "Pleased to meet you. Bond. James Bond."

"Eh…" said the boy, before he finally took the offered hand and tore himself out of his puzzlement. "I'm Ron. Ron Weasley."

"As if that wasn't clear from just a glance," a haughty sounding voice interrupted. A blond, fair-skinned boy who had obviously listened in on their conversation pulled a face. "Red hair, freckles, second-hand robes … what else could you possibly be but a Weasel?"

Ron's face darkened at the insult. "Draco Malfoy," the blond introduced himself, though it sounded more like he was benevolently giving Harry a vital piece of information. He also gave him an appraising gaze, as if trying to figure out if Harry was worthy of his attention. How he would be able to tell just from looking at him, Harry wasn't sure. Still, what the boy saw didn't seem to meet with his approval.

"I've never heard of a James Bond before …" Draco said with a frown, calling Harry's identity into question for all the wrong reasons.

A dark-skinned boy who had overheard Draco's last sentence, but probably not the exchange that had preceded it, looked at the blond in surprise. "You haven't, really? That's odd, he's super famous."

Harry laughed, he couldn't help it. Before he could explain his slightly out of control joke to the puzzled blond, the door opened again and they were being led into the Great Hall. The same sense of wonder that Harry and Tom had felt when seeing the castle above the lake befell them now that they were walking beneath the starlit sky that seemed to form the ceiling, the myriads of floating candles, the fire chalices on the wall. It was … magical. There was no other word for it.

After a brief welcome speech of the famous Hogwarts headmaster – who looked so much like the archetype of 'wise old wizard' that Tom immediately suspected it deliberate - the sorting awaited them. Kid after kid sat on a small chair with a speaking hat placed on their heads, which, after a longer or shorter while, yelled out 'Gryffindor', 'Ravenclaw', 'Slytherin' or 'Hufflepuff'. Harry clapped along with the others when Hermione was sorted into the raven house, shortly followed by a flustered Neville who went to Gryffindor despite his concerns, a mixture of relief and worry on his face.

When Professor McGonagall finally called 'Potter, Harry' and he stepped forward, an irritated voice could clearly be heard in the sudden silence that followed his name: 'But I thought that was James Bond'. It elicited amused laughter from Muggleborn students, and Harry himself had to suppress a chuckle.

"My, my, who do we have here …. curious," said the hat on his head. "Very curious indeed! You're not alone in that head of yours, are you, Mr. Potter?"

"You can see Tom?" Harry asked, astonished.

"I can sense a presence. Tom, you say? What a strange coincidence. Now, where should I put the two of you? Difficult, as I can sense so many different needs … But no, the fates have their hands on you … there is a history there that clearly demands … SLYTHERIN!"

The green table clapped politely as Harry approached, but he saw a lot of puzzled faces, not only there, but also at the head table. If Harry wasn't mistaken, the headmaster who had smiled so serenely before seemed shocked, as did a man clad entirely in black who sat closest to the table he was heading to. When Harry passed him, he suddenly felt such a piercing pain in his scar that he swung around wildly, wondering what might have caused it. The black clad professor's face was unreadable, while the man in a purple turban next to him stared at Harry in a kind of morbid fascination before he hastily lowered his gaze. The pain lessened and Harry slid into the bench with the other newly sorted Slytherins, feeling rather confused.

"What the heck was that?" groaned Tom. "That freakin' hurt!"

Harry didn't have a clue. His scar had never hurt before, nor should it. It seemed that a lot of mysteries were waiting for him at Hogwarts.

The blond boy who had spoken in such a haughty manner to the redhead earlier - Draco Malfoy, Harry recalled - looked at him accusingly. "You claimed to be someone else."

Harry sighed. His stupid joke had surely come back to bite him. He hadn't wished to antagonize anyone. "I'm sorry, it was just a joke," he said, feeling genuinely contrite. "I was tired of everybody asking 'Are you really Harry Potter?' and thought how nice it'd be to be incognito, and then the secret agent movie reference just sort of popped up in my mind."

"Secret agent?" Draco echoed, still looking perplexed.

"Yes. James Bond. 007? The spy with the license to kill?" The boy had no clue what Harry was talking about, and neither did any of the other kids sitting at the Slytherin table, judging by their expressions. Didn't wizards watch TV or go to the movies?

"Probably not," mused Tom. "Look around – the entire setting is positively Victorian. I bet they don't even know what a TV is."

"Ah, never mind," Harry said aloud. "So yes, I really am Harry Potter."

"I never thought you'd be sorted into Slytherin," said a boy with dark skin who sat next to him. "I'm Blaise Zabini, by the way."

Harry shook his hand and was introduced to three other newly sorted at the table. Gregory and Vincent seemed rather taciturn, and, as Tom pointed out, not very bright, judging by their expressions. For some reason they seemed to be taking all of their cues from Draco. There was also Theodore Nott, a girl who looked a bit intimidating and introduced herself as Millicent Bullstrode, a very pretty girl named Daphne Greengrass and a girl who came off as a bit uppity: Pansy Parkinson.

"Why wouldn't I be sorted into Slytherin?" asked Harry curiously. "Is there something wrong with the house?"

His fellow Slytherins stared at him. "No, of course not," Theodore said. "Slytherin is the best. I just mean … the Potters used to be in Gryffindor …"

"So is this like an inherited thing? Were all your parents in Slytherin as well?"

When the kids nodded slowly, Harry frowned. "Well, then the hat is clearly not judging our characters as it claimed it was, is it? I mean – it's highly unlikely we're all exact copies of our parents. Or would you say that you are?"

Again, he was met by stunned silence. But his housemates were saved from having to answer, as - now that the sorting was completed - the headmaster stood up to 'say a few words'.

"And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sat down again and food appeared mysteriously on the tables. Harry didn't know what had him more surprised.

"The headmaster … is he … fully normal?" he inquired hesitantly.

"Well, there are ongoing discussions about it," Blaise answered cheerfully. "It depends on who you ask. Some call him eccentric. Other say he's mad as a hatter."

"Father always says that Hogwarts' standards have lowered considerably since he became headmaster," Draco put in, disdain in his voice. As Harry and Tom would later learn, 'Father says' was an often used sentence-starter with Draco.

"He surely has weird taste in clothing," Tom added. "Are those stars on his robes?"

"I was wondering if has a bell in his beard ."

As if she had heard that they had been discussing wizarding attire in their head, Pansy turned to him with a disapproving frown. "Why are you wearing the uniform of another school?" Pansy inquired. "And what school is that anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "It's the uniform of St. Grogory's."

Gregory looked up, vague interest in his eyes. "St. Gregory?

"That's the pope it probably refers to," Harry nodded. "No idea how the spelling mistake got into it, though." Gregory seemed confused by his answer, but didn't ask for clarification. Pansy did, however, smashing Harry's hope of having diverted attention from the clothes issue.

"And where's your hat and your robe?" she asked challengingly. "It is totally against tradition not to be wearing it."

Harry did feel a bit embarrassed for sticking out like that, but he also didn't like the girl's tone.

"Well, I think the hat is a little bit too much, don't you think? I guess that's why most people have taken it off already." He pointedly looked along the table, where indeed at least half of the older students had put their hats aside.

The girl frowned, but seemed a little less sure of herself when she saw that Harry was right.

"I have no idea who designed those," remarked Tom. "They look like black, upside down ice cream cones. You should stick to your claim of not wearing one because it's a fashion sin. If you play it right, next year, nobody's going to be wearing their hats."

After the meal, all students were led to their dormitories, which for the Slytherins, was in the dungeons. It sounded creepy, but when the door to the Slytherin common room opened, Harry and Tom were amazed. The floors were covered with thick carpets. There were comfy looking leather sofas and chairs with cushions, a huge fireplace and floor to ceiling windows that looked out right into the lake. The weak light coming in was iridescent and had a greenish tint. It was strangely mesmerizing. The entire colour scheme was green, but with some brown and blue accents. There were carved snakes everywhere. Harry and Tom felt right at home.

They were still in the process of taking in their surroundings, when one of the doors going out from the room opened and the dark haired, dark clad professor Harry had noticed earlier stepped into the room.

"That's Professor Snape," whispered Draco, who stood next to him, importantly. "Our head of house. My father knows him quite well."

"Welcome back to Hogwarts to all of you who have returned for a new school year, and welcome to Hogwarts to those who have been newly sorted into Slytherin. You will soon realize that belonging to our proud house is both a curse and a blessing. You will find that most other houses are prejudiced against us and that you will be written off just because your tie now is green."

His eyes wandered over his new students and got stuck on Harry, whose tie was as orange and grey as it had always been. He had no idea how his housemates' ties had changed to green after the sorting.

'Magic!" whispered Tom.

His head of house frowned at Harry, but continued his speech, in which he swore them to house unity and strongly advised to always present a united front outside of their common room. Harry felt conflicted. He had already made friends outside of Slytherin, and he'd rather keep them. Surely, inter-house relationships were encouraged?

"Mr. Potter …" the stern looking professor said, enunciating his name as if it were chewing gum being stretched. "Our new celebrity. Why, pray tell, are you not wearing our standard Hogwarts school uniform, but something - special?"

"I didn't know where to buy it," said Harry, who had the feeling that the professor didn't like him very much. Which was weird, given that he hadn't ever met him before. But everybody seemed to have some kind of idea of what he should be like – maybe the professor did, too, and Harry didn't live up to his expectations.

"You didn't know where to buy it …" repeated the professor, still drawing out the words and somehow giving them gravity by doing so. "Wasn't 'Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions' able to cater to your unique tastes and needs?"

"I don't know where the shop is," said Harry, feeling a bit defensive. "It didn't say in the letter. Neither did it say where to get all the other stuff. And before you ask, I didn't capture an owl either."

Professor Snape didn't seem to know what to make of that. "Come with me to my office, Potter. I wish to speak to you privately. For all the others: Your luggage has been brought to your rooms, the prefects will show you the way. Breakfast tomorrow – and only tomorrow, as we won't be operating on a full schedule – is at ten. You will be given your timetables subsequently. For now, I suggest you retire. There will be a meeting for all new students in the common room at nine, during which you will be given more information."

With that, he turned around and gestured for Harry to follow him out of the room, down a narrow corridor and into an office. It was dimly lit, with shelves all along the walls which were filled either with books or with bottles and jars that had strange things floating in them.

"Sit, Mr. Potter, and explain why you chose to ignore your supply list and arrive at school wholly unprepared? Am I to understand that not only did you not get your school robe and uniform, but neither did you get your books, your wand nor anything else from your supply list?"

"Yes, Sir, and I'm really sorry about that," Harry assured. "But, as I said, it wasn't stated on the list where I would find all that … a cauldron, quills, dragon hide gloves. It's not like you can get it at your local Sainsbury's. And there was no return address on the letter, or I would have written and asked."

Professor Snape stared at him as if he had just said something totally unreasonable and unbelievable.

"Do I deduce correctly from what you're saying that you are not living with a wizarding family, Mr. Potter?"

"I didn't even know wizards were real until I stepped onto the magical platform this morning."

Professor Snape seemed dumbfounded. For some reason, Harry had the feeling that it wasn't an expression one saw often on this particular teacher's face.

"You … didn't know you were a wizard? You were living with Muggles?"

"With my aunt and uncle, Sir, and they don't know about wizards either."

"Your aunt? Petunia Evans?" Now the professor seemed downright shocked.

"Petunia Dursley. My mother's sister."

For the longest time, Professor Snape didn't say anything. He just got up from behind his huge desk and stood in front of a window that also looked out to the lake. There wasn't anything to see, but Harry and Tom both were in agreement that the professor didn't want Harry to see his face.

"I presume, given your ignorance, neither the headmaster nor Professor McGonagall came to see you and explain … things to you?"

"No, Sir. There was just the letter."

"Then how did you even manage to get here?"

Harry shrugged. "It said King's Cross Station at 11 on the 1st of September. The ticket was included. So I decided to go there, just in case it wasn't a hoax, and boarded the train."

"I see." The head of Slytherin house turned around and sat down once more at the desk. He folded his hands in front of him and gave Harry a pained look.

"Mr. Potter, I trust you realize that Hogwarts normally has a procedure for Muggleborn students. The fact is, though, that you aren't a Muggleborn and that, for some reason, your unique situation has not been taken into account. I admit I have no idea where or how such an error was made. I can only see to its rectification as soon as possible. You need your school supplies – first and foremost your wand. Did you bring a trunk – or rather a suitcase and clothes?"

Harry didn't know how much he should admit to Professor Snape about his home situation. He didn't know him, and yet the professor didn't seem to like him very much. Harry had too little information to know who he could trust. On the other hand, he did need help to get all his things ...

"I might need some extra clothes, especially since I didn't know I'd be living in Scotland," Harry said finally. "But, Sir – I don't have any money. Not even for school fees."

"There are no school fees for Hogwarts, Mr. Potter. It's paid for by the wizarding community. And I very much doubt that your parents didn't put aside a trust fund for you. I take it you were never given a key?"

"A key to what?"

"To a Gringotts vault."

At Harry's nonplussed expression, the professor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What DO you know about the wizarding world, Mr. Potter?"

"Up until this morning – nothing. Since then I learned a few things from other students and from reading 'Hogwarts a History' and ' Great Wizarding Events of the 20th Century '."

"You read both books on the train?"

"Well, I'm a fast reader, but not that fast. I read a few chapters and skimmed others. I intend to read them as soon as possible, though. I'm a bit at a disadvantage right now."

"So your aunt has never told you anything about your parents?"

"She said they were unemployed drunks who died in a car crash . Nothing about them being wizards or being killed by a dark one with a rather weird name."

Again, Professor Snape took a sharp breath and seemed to fight for composure, which he quickly found. Harry was amazed how well the professor was able to keep his emotions and expressions in check.

"Then she intentionally lied to you. She knew that her sister was a witch. And she knew that you were a wizard, too."

Harry nodded. "I know that she lied. I just never knew what the truth was."

"And yet she allowed you to board the Hogwarts Express?"

Harry considered lying, but for some reason, the professor seemed to know that.

"Because you're bad at lying," explained Tom. "You have to mean it to be convincing."

"The truth please," Professor Snape demanded.

"You might as well tell him," sighed Tom. "He'll find out anyway."

Harry nodded. "She doesn't know. I sneaked out of the house and took the train to London early in the morning."

"They probably reported you missing and are conducting search parties for you as we speak."

"No, they aren't," Harry assured. "Really, Professor: They will simply be glad that I'm gone. Don't worry about telling them, they won't care either way."

"Mr. Potter, what you're telling me about your guardians sounds suspiciously like neglect, possibly child abuse."

"Well, it wasn't exactly nice living with them, but I was fed, I had a place to sleep, I got clothes and I went to school. I even had a library pass and some free time to spend there. You can't put pin anything on her."

"Tomorrow morning, after breakfast, I want you to report to the hospital wing so that our school nurse can do a check-up."

Harry frowned. "But I'm not sick."

"I want to know if there are any health issues that need to be taken care of. Vaccinations, wizarding immunizations and a check-up on your eyesight. When was the last prescription for your glasses, for instance?"

"When I was about nine?"

"Not ever since?"

Harry shook his head.

"I see. Madame Pomfrey will check on that, too, and send you to an optometrist if need be. Go to your room and get some sleep now, Mr. Potter. I'm sure you've had a long day."

Severus Snape, Potions Master, Professor and Head of Slytherin House was incensed. Of all the things he had imagined to happen this day – it definitely wasn't this. He hadn't expected Harry Potter to be sorted into Slytherin. He should have been a Gryffindor. He also hadn't expected Harry Potter to show up in a Muggle school uniform, never having heard of Diagon Alley or Gringotts or that he was a wizard. And never ever had he suspected that Harry Potter had been given into the care of Petunia Evans!

How could the great, the wise, the mostly omniscient Albus Dumbledore not have known any of it? It was he who had assured Severus so many years ago that Lily's son would grow up in safety, and Severus was sure that he had said 'in safety' and not 'in ignorance' . How could the wizarding world's golden boy have fallen through the cracks?

The long way from the dungeons to the highest tower of the castle and the many staircases he had to climb to get there ensured that Severus had let off some steam by the time he had reached the revolving staircase guarded by the gargoyle. He wasn't shouting in rage, as he might have been had the dungeons been any closer to the headmaster's office, but very strong and expressive when he addressed his employer.

"Would you care to explain, Albus, why Harry Potter boarded the Hogwarts Express this morning without a clue about the wizarding world as a whole and without knowledge of who his parents were in particular? He didn't even know how to get his supplies, which is why he arrived not only without a school uniform, but without a wand !"

For once, Severus saw his employer speechless. "He doesn't have a wand?" Albus asked, surprised.

"That's all you take from this? The boy is completely ignorant about everything! It's a wonder he even made it onto the Hogwarts Express!"

Albus frowned. "Given that Harry grew up in a family who was familiar with magic that is surprising indeed."

"He grew up with Petunia Evans! You gave him into the care of Lily's sister, who abhors magic!"

"No, she doesn't, Severus. I know for a fact that she wanted to come to Hogwarts herself, she even wrote me a letter when Lily came here, begging me to let her come too. I had to tell her that it wasn't possible for a child without magic to attend Hogwarts, but she would have wanted to."

"And you have never asked yourself if this disappointment - being rebuffed like this - might twist her interest in magic into jealousy and even hatred? You have no idea what became of Petunia in later years. Have you even spoken to her since? Surely you must have noticed her bitterness and resentment when you brought Harry to her?"

"I didn't speak to her personally. I explained everything in a letter."

"You … you explained everything in a letter? What – did you just drop Lily's son onto her doorstep in the middle of the night? Surely, you must have met her at some point, if only to ascertain that she wanted to take in Harry, and that she was a fit guardian?"

"I had someone keeping an eye on Harry all these years. It's not like he was without protection."

"Who? Why did this person never approach Harry and familiarize him with the wizarding world?"

"Harry was supposed to grow up away from all the fame and the glory and the potential worship. I wanted him to have a normal childhood – something he would never have found in the wizarding world. His ignorance was supposed to be a shield so he could grow up without the threat of Voldemort hanging over his head."

"Well, he grew up ignorant, that's for sure, but Petunia, from all I was able to deduce, did not give him a carefree childhood. The boy thinks that 'decent treatment' consists of enough food, a place to sleep and a few hours of library visits every week! He sneaked out of the house to board the train, Albus! Petunia doesn't have a clue where he is. The fact that she obviously hasn't contacted you in panic is a dead giveaway that she doesn't care for him one bit. You did give her the means to contact you, didn't you?"

"There were wards on the place that would alert me if anything were to happen to the boy or if he didn't come back home within a certain time," Albus said defensively, and Severus didn't miss the fact that he never answered his question.

Severus stared at him, aghast. "Meaning she didn't know how to reach you in case of an emergency? Or in case she needed help because Harry's magic acted up? Or if she simply felt overwhelmed with the situation?"

"All kinds of emergencies were covered. There was never a disturbance for serious accidental magic in his home . He was never sick longer than normal for a child. He was never away from home for more than a few hours. Petunia had a magical sister – she knew all she had to know about raising a magical child. She knew how to access Diagon Alley and Platform 9 ¾ because she has been there before."

"When she was a child, Albus! She never came to the station or to Diagon Alley after Lily's first year! You … you just assumed that she knew because she had once been there as a child?"

"Well, it looks like I might have given her too much credit. She only had to remember the Leaky Cauldron, which is at a prominent place in Muggle London, not easy to forget. The same is true for Platform 9 ¾."

"Which is still not taking into account that she might not have wanted to revisit any of those places! How could you not check on him, Albus! How could you not make sure that Petunia was a willing and competent guardian for Lily's child?"

Albus was silent for a while, and obviously quite uncomfortable. Severus wasn't sure though whether it was an indication of a guilty conscience or if he was just unhappy about his decision making being put into question.

"I had no choice, Severus, truly," he finally said gravely. "You know that the danger remains. The night Lily died, her sacrifice gave Harry a very strong protection that was borne out of a mother's love. There was ancient women's magic at play, not really well-known anymore in our modern society that frowns on blood and sacrificial magic. I have no idea how Lily came to know of it, but she did, and willingly gave her life so her son would be safe. When I recognized this, I performed a ritual that would bind the sacrificial protection to those who shared Lily's blood. But for that, Petunia needed to step in and take Lily's place – raising him in his mother's stead."

Severus stared at him disbelief. This was the first time he had heard about this. He was not familiar with magic as performed by pagan and Wiccan tribes long before wands were invented, but it was said to have been a magic more spiritual and more in tune with nature's elements than anything wizards and witches did today. The old ways and rituals were now mostly forgotten or even banned – neither blood magic nor sacrificial magic was well regarded nowadays, it bordered too much on the darker magics Grindelwald and the Dark Lord had been so interested in. But Severus also knew that they were two opposite sides of a coin. It all depended on who was sacrificed and for what purpose. Nobody could call the sacrifice of a mother for her child dark. Lily had been anything but a dark witch.

"So it was basically a blood adoption?"

"In a way, yes."

"That would definitely have needed Petunia's consent. I cannot imagine that she gave it freely, especially not if you simply dumped her nephew on her."

"It was in her own best interest, and I made her see that. A blood adoption, however, does not without fail evoke love. It is regrettable that Petunia couldn't find it in her heart to truly care for the boy, but I did what was best under the circumstances. And the boy is here now, and he confided in you. Maybe it's a good thing that he was sorted into Slytherin after all. I admit I was a bit concerned."

"Concerned that he was a Slytherin? Why? Afraid the boy will go dark?" Severus' words were laced with sarcasm which was water off a duck's back to the headmaster.

"Yes. It has happened before with children who grew up without loving parents."

Severus could only stare at him at the veiled reference to himself and the mistakes he'd made in the past. Albus reached into the drawer of his desk. "I admit I had forgotten about Harry's vault key. But then I assumed Petunia would take care of Harry's needs as any responsible adult would." He held up the key for Severus to take. "Give this to Harry. I'll have Hagrid take him to Diagon Alley and Gringotts to get his supplies."

"Hagrid?" asked Severus, perplexed.

"Unless you want to take the boy himself? It might be a bonding opportunity. If you tell him about Lily, I'm sure …"

"No!" Severus said vehemently. "You promised, Albus! I have no interest in forming a bond with the boy. You told me yourself how important it is that I keep up my image so I can resume my position as your spy should the Dark Lord return. Being a confidant of the Boy-Who-Lived would hardly work to support the narrative. And it would put Potter in danger."

"As you wish, Severus. I'll speak to Hagrid."