Intersections in Real Time

They found Hagrid deep into a huge pint at a pub called the Leaky Cauldron. It was dark and smoky inside, and Harry once again had the impression that he had stepped back in time a few centuries.

Snape hurried over to Hagrid to have a sharp word with him, leaving Harry to stand near the door. He was looking around with interest at the various hazy pictures on the walls when a voice interrupted his perusal.

"Bless me! It's Harry Potter!"

All the conversations except for Hagrid and Snape's stopped. A tall, stout witch seized Harry's hand, and he was glad his wrist had just been healed, because she was pumping it hard enough to sprain it again as she told him what an honour it was to meet him.

Harry thanked her, but when she let go, another witch took her place, followed by a wizard. A third witch in dusty pink robes was reaching for his hand when Snape stepped in front of him.

"Enough of this!" he said in disgust. "I haven't got all day to stand here while you goggle over him."

Frowns of disapproval were turned upon him, but Snape ignored them. He took Harry's hand, and pulled him out the back of the pub, angrily tapping out the proper pattern on the back wall to let them back into Diagon Alley. Angry murmurs followed them out the open door.

"Am I that famous?" asked Harry. The idea that people recognized him on sight like that, and even wanted to shake his hand, was astonishing. While he did recall a few strange people doing just that when he was younger, it certainly wasn't a common occurrence. The Dursleys had ignored him. Even Snape ignored him...

"Fame isn't everything, Harry. The sooner you learn that, the better off you'll be. The press will be proclaiming you the saviour of the world one moment, then condemning you to Azkaban in the next." Snape sounded very bitter. The bricks folded up before them to reveal Diagon Alley. "Come on."

"What's Azkaban?" Harry asked as they walked.

"A wizarding prison. Do you have your letter?"

Harry nodded and pulled it out of his pocket. Snape glanced at it, then headed for the proper shop.

They wandered through the alley, stopping occasionally to pick up the supplies he needed for Hogwarts. Harry was happy to get his own robes, but Snape was too impatient to let him stop to look at many of the strange things in the shops. A shining broom in a place called Quality Quidditch Supplies caught his eye in particular. Even if he only had a vague idea what Quidditch was, he could tell by the way it glowed that it was a special broom, and the boys clustered around the shop seemed to agree with him.

"Will I be able to fly on a broom?" he asked Snape as they headed to get his wand.

"You'll get lessons like all the other first-years," said Snape.

Harry was disappointed. School didn't start for a month, and he had hoped to try out flying while the weather was still good.

They approached a dingy-looking shop with just a single wand lying in the window in the front. Snape pushed open the door and a bell jingled deep within the shop. Harry was shocked by the intensity of magic in the room they entered. It didn't look like much - in fact, it reminded him of Ingrédients Irrégulière - but there was a strange current in the air that made him shiver. Snape didn't appear to like the place either, but took a seat in the single chair that graced the room.

Harry was looking with interest at the long boxes lining the walls when they were joined by a strange old man whose eyes seemed to glow in the poor light.

"Mr. Ollivander," said Snape in a diffident tone.

Harry stared at his father, then back at Mr. Ollivander. The only person Snape treated politely was Dumbledore, and that was when he was in a good mood. That he was giving Mr. Ollivander so much respect was disturbing.

The pale-eyed wizard looked Snape over.

"Still have that wand? Elm. Twelve inches. Swishy. Good for Defence?" he asked. Snape nodded cautiously. "Good. Wouldn't want you to have broken it like that other one."

"That was Potter's fau-" protested Snape.

Mr. Ollivander interrupted him.

"Yes, so you told me," he said in a severe voice. "But you are here today for your son." His pale eyes focused on Harry.

"He's not my son," said Snape. Mr. Ollivander ignored him. Harry just wished the man would stop staring at him.

"The scar..." murmured Mr. Ollivander. He looked like he was going to say more, but then he noticed the glare Snape was giving him and remembered his duty. "Let me see your wand hand, Mr. Snape," said the old wizard, and it took Harry a moment to realize that Mr. Ollivander was referring to him. Beside him, Snape growled in frustration at being ignored.

The shopkeeper went off to the shelves to fetch various wands for him to try. There was soon a pile of rejected wands, and Harry was getting tired of all the swishing. Mr. Ollivander seemed happy for the challenge, however, and delved even deeper into his stores before handing him a dark-coloured wand.

"Here's one - holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. Go on. Try it," urged Mr. Ollivander.

Harry stared at the wand. It felt warm in his hands. He brought it down in an arc and was shocked to see a spray of rainbow-coloured sparks issue forth from the end of the wand. He grinned, and heard his father mutter under his breath that now they would finally be able to leave.

Mr. Ollivander took the wand from him and began to wrap it up. He was having a conversation with himself. "Well, the wand chooses the wizard, I always say," he argued as if it response to someone else.

"What's wrong with his wand?" challenged Snape. Mr. Ollivander's eyes were fixed on Harry's scar again, and for a second Harry thought the man was going to reach out to touch it.

"The phoenix who provided the core of the wand only gave two feathers. Two wands were made. It is the brother of this wand that gave young Mr. Snape here his scar." Harry shivered under the man's gaze, but Snape wasn't affected by the pronouncement.

"You should call him Mr. Potter," said Snape stiffly. He had lost his earlier deference. "Not everyone is blessed with your omniscience."

Mr. Ollivander didn't seem affected by the insult.

"The wands tell me things, Mr. Snape," he said. "I think we can expect great things out of your son. After all, You-Know-Who-"

Snape snarled, slammed the agreed-upon price of seven galleons on the counter, grabbed Harry's wand, and swept out of the shop. Harry gave Mr. Ollivander an apologetic look, but was disturbed by the knowing smile the man gave in return.

The wizard's whisper followed him out of the shop. "Good luck, Mr. Snape."

Harry found his father staring fixedly at the window display of a nearby shop. He was amused to see that it sold witches' undergarments. Stopping beside Snape, he pretended to be interested in the display.

"I didn't know these were on my list," he said in an innocent tone.

Snape blinked, and looked down at him. The edges of his mouth quirked up into a smile for a moment before his face went blank again. He pulled the long box that held Harry's wand out of his pocket and opened it. Harry could see his wand lying nestled in the soft packing material.

Snape picked the wand up almost reverently and handed it to him.

"Keep it with you always. Many a fool has died because of a misplaced wand," said Snape.

Harry nodded his understanding, and decided not to mention that he wouldn't know the first thing about using it.

"What did Mr. Ollivander mean about my wand's brother?" he asked instead.

"Ollivander seems to get off by making useless predictions to wide-eyed first-years," said Snape scathingly. "He's worse than Trelawney. Well, on her better days, that is."

"Who's Trelawney?"

"Hogwarts' esteemed Divination professor. She also fancies herself something of a seer." Snape's sneer showed what he thought of that idea. "Do yourself a favour and don't take the class once third year comes around." They started walking again.

"Where do we go now?" asked Harry. He had everything he needed on the list. Well, except for an animal, but Snape had been avoiding that shop like the plague all day.

"Hogwarts," said Snape shortly, threading his way through the crowds towards the other end of the alley. Harry gazed longingly at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour as they walked past, but Snape didn't seem to notice. Perhaps he should ask to stop for ice cream? A boy walked by with a cone of ice cream that reached higher than his head. The ice cream changed colours every time he licked it. That decided it for Harry.

"Mr. Snape?" he called to the wizard striding ahead of him.

"What?"

"Can we get some ice cream?" he asked hopefully.

This innocuous request stopped Snape in his tracks. The look he gave Harry when he turned around was very stern. "I mean, it's my birthday and..." Harry trailed off. He hadn't meant to remind Snape of what day it was.

His father looked extremely angry, and before Harry could say anything, he was literally dragged into a nearby gap between two buildings. To anyone who saw them, it would look like Snape was giving him a scolding, which from the expression on his father's face was probably what was going to happen.

"You actually believed I didn't know it was your birthday?" hissed Snape.

Harry was shocked. This was not what he had expected his father to say.

"You didn't want to come today," said Harry softly. Snape looked exasperated. He glared at Harry, looked around at the thinning crowds in Diagon Alley, and pulled Harry deeper into the gap.

"Listen carefully, because I'm only going to explain this once. My plans for today were to come here to buy potions ingredients and your present. Albus decided it would be more fun for you to tag along, despite my obviously mistaken impression that presents were not supposed to be bought in front of their receiver. I had to revise my plans then, so I left you with Hagrid and went to buy your present." The entire monologue was given in the harshest tones, but Harry couldn't stop the grin that was threatening to take over his whole face. His father had remembered!

Snape stopped talking. The look in his eyes showed that he was very far away, and Harry's smile faltered as he wondered whether Snape was thinking of his mother again. After a moment, Snape pulled himself together and focused on Harry. He seemed very tired.

"Let's go back to Hogwarts," he said.

Harry nodded his agreement, and they headed back into Diagon Alley.

*****

Floo travel was not an experience that Harry wanted to repeat any time soon. They travelled from the Leaky Cauldron to an open fireplace in a pub called the Three Broomsticks.

"I need to sit," said Harry. His head was still spinning from the trip, but Snape swept right out of the pub with barely a nod for the woman behind the bar.

Outside was a village that reminded him of a much more spread-out Diagon Alley.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Hogsmeade." Snape quickened his pace.

They walked back to the castle in silence. Very few people were out in the growing dusk. Harry kept sneaking glances at Snape, wondering if he had really bought him a present. He didn't appear to be carrying anything. But then, all of Harry's supplies were shrunk and in a satchel they had bought during the day. You would never know that he had a pewter cauldron, robes, regular clothing, brass scales, a telescope, glass phials, potions ingredients, and all his books in the small bag.

Hogwarts wasn't far away, and the walk passed quickly. Fang greeted them as soon as they were on the grounds, slobbering all over Harry's hands and robes. The dog stayed far away from Snape, which made Harry raise his estimate of Fang's intelligence a notch. Hagrid came out of his hut to meet them and swept Harry up into another of his back-breaking hugs. Harry could feel Snape scowling at his back, but Hagrid released him quickly.

"If you're through molesting him," said Snape, "we need to get to dinner."

Hagrid smiled at Harry.

"I'll see yeh there, then. Got a surprise fer Harry." He strode off toward his cottage as they headed for the castle. Remembering Hagrid's comments from earlier in the day, Harry was sure he knew what his surprise was.

Inside the Great Hall, Dumbledore was eating his meal and conversing merrily with a beautiful red and gold bird that perched on the end of the table. Harry found it entrancing, and was thrilled when it let out a peal of song that sent a warm shiver through his body. They took their seats, though Harry couldn't take his eyes off the bird. The Headmaster looked over at him with a smile on his face.

"I don't believe you've met my phoenix, Fawkes?" he asked.

Fawkes trilled again, then flew over to land in between Harry and Snape. Harry was shocked to see it butt its head against Snape's hand to be petted. Once his father had reluctantly done so (stroking a spot on its head that made Fawkes hum), the phoenix turned its attention to him.

"Hello, Fawkes," he said awkwardly, wondering what you actually said to a phoenix. Fawkes didn't seem to mind his lack of conversation, and gently rubbed its head against his hand before flying back to Dumbledore.

"The Evening Prophet mentioned a break-in at Gringotts today," said the Headmaster casually.

Harry pretended to be interested in his food. He could see his father looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

"We need to discuss that later, Albus," said Snape. "Hagrid didn't tell you everything."

The Headmaster nodded his assent, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want to think about what had happened in Gringotts, especially not now.

The talk turned to inconsequential things. Dumbledore rambled on about the advantages of an all-sugar diet, ignoring the glares that Snape sent his way.

Hagrid burst in halfway through the meal to present Harry with a huge chocolate cake. It was covered in invisible candles whose flames appeared to hover over its surface. Once Harry blew the candles out, Hagrid searched carefully for them on the cake, counting as he went to make sure he got them all. It would be a bit disturbing to bite into an invisible candle. Huge pieces of cake were served, and even Snape took one, though he didn't seem to enjoy it.

In fact, Snape excused himself early, and without wishing Harry a happy birthday. Harry watched him go, wondering if he had imagined their conversation earlier in the day, until Hagrid distracted him by pulling out a covered cage to reveal a beautiful snowy owl. Harry was embarrassed at the gift, but Hagrid insisted he take it, and even told him about how he had asked Snape not to let him buy an animal.

Harry loved the majestic white bird immediately, and was amused when the owl and Fawkes had a conversation that consisted entirely of hoots and trilling.

Dumbledore surprised him with a book called Uric Beaufolle: A Closer Look at The Oddball by Radolphus Pittiman, which made Harry wonder if Dumbledore had noticed that he hadn't believed the Headmaster's earlier tales about Uric the Oddball.

Hagrid gave him some tips on caring for his owl, then took his leave, followed by Dumbledore, who made some comment about old men needing their sleep, or at least a chamber pot. Harry took his time devouring a second piece of cake. His gaze kept going to the ceiling of the Great Hall and the beautiful stars that were now visible.

"What should I call you?" he asked the snowy owl. It hooted back at him. He thought back to his conversation with Hagrid. He had called the owl a she, hadn't he? Harry had read a good name in Hogwarts: A History the other day. Godewina the Great had been one of Hogwarts' most famous graduates in the fifteenth century.

"How does Godewina sound?" The owl met his eyes for a moment, then hooted its consent. Harry grinned.

When he was finished with the cake (and feeling a bit queasy from all the food), he took Godewina down to his room with him. The snowy bird let out an interrogative hoot when they entered.

"Yes, I know it's very green," said Harry, placing the cage on his dresser, along with the book and his satchel. Despite the gifts, he couldn't help but feel tired and disappointed. He decided to just go to bed rather than think about everything that had happened today, but stopped in surprise.

Two packages, one flat and one long and thin lay on the bed. He stared at them. Could they be Snape's presents?

He opened the long one first, his mouth dropping open in surprise when he saw what the wrappings revealed. The glowing broom he had seen earlier in Diagon Alley lay cushioned on his green coverlet. He read the words engraved on its side. Nimbus 2000. It was beautiful. He spent the next few minutes admiring it before laying it aside in favour of his other present.

All he could see was the back of a picture frame when he opened it. A piece of parchment fell out of the wrapping. He read it before looking at his gift.

It's charmed so only you can see it. Everyone else will see a view of Hogwarts. Happy Birthday.

Harry stared at the parchment for a moment before flipping the picture over. The frame was old and worn, but Harry was more interested in the picture within. It showed his family. His real family. His mother looked very tired, but she was smiling. Harry could see himself as a newborn in her arms, waving one tiny hand around. His father stood beside her. He was wearing red robes that Harry suspected were James', though Snape looked like himself. He was looking back and forth between his wife and son with a mixture of pride and love.

Harry smiled at the picture, a fierce joy taking hold of him. He placed the broom against one wall. The picture went on his bedside. It was the last thing he saw before he fell asleep.