Echoes from the Past

As he waited for a goblin to come with a cart, Harry opened the make-up kit and reapplied the toner so that his scar was once more hidden from sight. He was just adjusting his hat when the screeching of metal on metal could be heard and a cart appeared around a bend in the track, coming to a stop in front of him in a shower of sparks. Jumping back a little in surprise, Harry scowled.

"Mr. Potter?" the goblin questioned, ignoring his mood.

"Yes."

"You still wish to visit your personal vault, yes?"

"That's right," Harry said as he climbed into the cart and grabbed hold of the seat as it sped off before he was fully seated.

They took off in the same direction they had arrived from earlier, confirming Harry's suspicions that his mother's vault was deeper than he'd ever been despite being lower in number than the one Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel had used to temporarily store the philosopher's stone just before his first year. As they zipped along, a distant but very familiar roar echoed through the tunnels. Whipping his head around, Harry caught a glimpse of a large, scaly, jet-black tail with prominent ridges. It reminded him of the fact that Gringotts was fabled to use dragons to help protect their vaults. The one he'd just heard had sounded a little like Norbert had, and the tail had been like an enlarged version of the baby's, which made him wonder if it had been a Norwegian Ridgeback.

The thought left Harry's mind as they whipped around several more bends, rising all the while, before the cart started to slow down. When they reached his vault, he allowed the goblin to open the door as he pulled out his pouch. He'd decided ahead of time to get as much money as reasonably possible because if the way things were going was any indication, he wouldn't be allowed to return anytime soon. Quickly he scooped up the Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts until his pouch could hold no more. Satisfied, he closed the vault and returned to the cart as the goblin locked it.

The ride back was uneventful and Harry soon found himself back where he'd started an unknown number of hours earlier.

"Thank you," Harry said as he got out of the cart.

"You're welcome," the goblin replied, seemingly startled at being acknowledged.

Harry walked back up the sloping and narrow stone passageway to the marble entrance hall of the bank. Quickly he looked around to see if there were any signs indicating where he needed to go to convert some of his money to pounds, but failed to find any. With a sigh, he approached a goblin at the counter who didn't seem to be doing anything.

"What can I help you with, Sir?" the goblin inquired as he peered down at him.

"I'd like to convert some money to pounds," Harry replied.

"How much?"

"Uh, what's the exchange rate?"

"Five pounds and twelve pence for every Galleon•."

"Wow," Harry said, he hadn't realized that Wizard money was worth so much. "I'd like to convert twenty-five Galleons, please."

This way he'd be able to pay for a cab if necessary and have money left over should he ever need it. Quickly, he opened his pouch and pulled out the golden coins as the goblin went to get the Muggle money. When the goblin returned, he quickly checked the money Harry had given him before handing over the notes and coins he'd fetched.

"Is there anything else you require?"

"No, thanks," Harry responded as he put away the money and put the pouch in his bag.

As he slung the bag over his shoulder, Harry turned around and walked towards the exit of the bank, looking up at the large clock that hung above the double doors. He stopped in shock as he saw that it was already quarter of five. No wonder he was hungry, it was nearly supper time! Knowing that the shops he wanted to visit wouldn't be open for much longer, he rushed outside and then paused. He wanted to go to Flourish & Blotts to buy some red ink to use in "A Prankster's Guide to Hogwarts," but he also needed to buy a supply of food for both himself and Zera so that they wouldn't be hungry all the time. He could get his supper at the Leaky Cauldron, although after his earlier scare he didn't really want to go back there. But he didn't really fancy going to a Muggle restaurant either, not the way he was dressed.

Besides, though he had converted a decent sum of money into pounds, he knew the ride home was going to cost him. Cabbies were known to be expensive and the trip was by no means short, so that left him in need of another magical place to eat and a pet shop that would sell snake food. He didn't know of any place in Diagon Alley that met either requirement and he wasn't even going to consider trying Knockturn Alley, his earlier encounter with Lucius Malfoy having shown him how dangerous this trip was. So he had to try one of the other alleys. Quickly Harry racked his brain for anything he had heard about them. Hermione had once mentioned that there was a really good bookstore in Edgucayshun• Alley. But that didn't really help at the present. Yet he didn't think that anyone else...

Fred and George! Harry suddenly straightened, unaware that his shoulders had sagged in defeat. The twins had once mentioned stumbling across a hidden alley while trying to blend into the shadows when playing a prank on a classmate they'd happened to encounter during their shopping one year. Apparently the entrance was concealed by an illusion of a wall. Mystic Alley• they'd said it was called. It was a cobblestone alley with mostly shops and stores that carried unusual items, even by wizarding standards. Why the owners would want to have a shop in a hidden, out-of-the-way location, though, was beyond him.

The identical Weasleys had found a number of good stores there, including a good bookstore and an Apothecary that provided them with invaluable material for their pranks. But, more importantly, they'd also told him that it had a terrific restaurant that served 'the best bloody rabbit' they'd ever had. And an alley that sold unconventional wares was more likely to have snake supplies than the regular menageries considering the intense bias against the reptiles that existed in the Wizarding World.

Now, where did the twins say the entrance to Mystic Alley was located again? Harry bit his lip as he thought. The two had been a little rushed in telling their story as they didn't want Ron to overhear them as it was their secret. But since he was their silent investor, they'd told him anyway. They'd mentioned spotting Angelina Johnson as she left Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and they'd followed her down the alley away from the Leaky Cauldron towards Knockturn Alley, but had they gone beyond it?

Unable to recall, Harry glanced at the alley across from where he was standing before looking towards the Leaky Cauldron. He couldn't remember passing a wall on the way, the stores were packed closest together just next to the pub as it was the main entrance to London's magical district. He decided to try his luck in the other direction first, paying special attention to both sides of the alley as he went. He'd just passed Ollivander's when he spotted it. There, between Just In Time, the strangest clock store Harry had ever seen, and Blin-Bling's Jewels was a dilapidated looking stone wall overgrown with a sickly looking ivy that was set a little bit back from the two buildings on either side. The placement caused the wall to be cast in shadow except when the sun was able to shine on it from in between the elaborately decorated roofs of the stores across from it - which probably wasn't for more than an hour or two every evening. He really did get lucky sometimes.

As he stepped up to the wall, Harry discretely looked around to ensure that no one was watching before he took a deep breath and stepped forwards. Despite having walked through the barrier at King's Cross multiple times, he couldn't help but close his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't trust the twins (after all what amusement could they get from him smashing into a wall, especially when they weren't there to see it?), but what had happened to him due to Dobby's bungled attempts to prevent his return to Hogwarts at the start of his second year was still all too fresh in his memory.

The thought instantly left Harry's mind as he suddenly encountered a seemingly sticky liquid-like substance that at once sucked him in further and seemed to want to push him back out. Suppressing the urge to cry out in surprise lest he inhale the stuff, he started to struggle instead, but the substance only seemed to cling to him more the harder he fought. Then, an eternal second later, it disappeared from in front of him and he stumbled forwards, falling to his hands and knees as he sucked in a huge lungful of fresh air.

Finally opening his eyes, Harry caught sight of the cobblestones before him even as the world suddenly came rushing back to him and he became aware of Zera shifting restlessly on his arm and the sound of laughter from his left.

"First time through the wall, eh?" a chuckling, feminine voice with a lilting accent demanded.

Slowly, Harry turned his head and looked up at the witch who'd addressed him. She was a tall, ageless woman with long orange-brown hair that flowed around her in soft curls. Her eyes were a golden brown and seemed to be able to look right through him with only a glance, making him unable to hold her gaze.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Harry finally demanded, bringing his hand up to his right arm, trying to reassure his familiar.

"The wall?" the witch asked innocently as she leaned back in her chair and returned her ethereal gaze to the plants she was weaving into a wreath. "It's some of the eldest of remembered magicks. An ancient protection spell no one knows anymore," she paused deliberately, glancing up directly into Harry's eyes. "At least not that they'll admit to the Ministry."

Uncomfortable under the penetrating gaze (could she read his mind like some of the Muggle science-fiction stories he'd read at his elementary school library?), Harry looked down instead and brushed the dirt from his pants as he stood up. He didn't doubt from the way she'd answered him that she knew of the magic used to create the wall, though she hadn't admitted it in any kind of way that could get her into trouble.

"Why not?" he asked as he looked past her to the store window before which she sat.

Corinne Morgana's Quality Apothecary, the gold lettering read. So this must be the shop Fred and George had mentioned. He could already see that it was different from the other apothecaries he'd seen. Various plants and flowers hung upside down to dry along the upper edge of the window and there were large baskets of what looked like fresh and dried ingredients standing about in addition to the usual shelves with all manner of clear and coloured jars and vials filled with the potions ingredients he was familiar with and a stunning array of ones he wasn't. Unlike the other apothecaries, it was well lit, though parts of the back were shrouded in darkness, probably for the light sensitive items. All together, it gave the shop a more appealing atmosphere and was the first apothecary that he wouldn't mind entering.

"Because they don't know it," the witch, whom Harry assumed was Corinne Morgana, replied, drawing his attention back to her - though he was careful to avoid her face, lest she look up again.

She was wearing a white, off-the-shoulder dress with sleeves that came to her elbows. On top of it she wore a velvet corseted vest and skirt, the top part of which was brown and laced up from under her bosom to her waist, while the lower part of it was purple and hung to what seemed to be her knees, though it wasn't uniform in length. Around her neck hung a silver chain with a mother-of-pearl crescent moon pendent. Altogether, she looked to be straight from the set of an old movie, where she'd been cast as a tavern wench.

She didn't sound like them, though. Harry frowned briefly as he tried to place the accent. It wasn't like anything he'd ever heard and between the different accents spoken at school and those of the visiting students last year, he'd heard a lot of different ones.

"And what they don't know they consider Dark and Evil."

"Is it?" Harry asked before he could stop himself.

Inwardly he cursed as Corinne looked up at him again, seemingly assessing something. Her fingers, however, continued weaving the plants she held as if nothing had happened. It was with a start that Harry realized that the plants were hemlock and nightshade, the same two potions ingredients that the wreath on the cover of one of Severus' books had contained.

"Ah, you recognize the Potions Guild's wreath, do you?" Corinne commented, noticing where his attention had gone.

"Potions Guild?" Harry demanded, wondering if she'd deliberately changed the subject.

"The organization responsible for certifying Potions Masters and ensuring quality potions. It's an old tradition that goes back well over a millennia. It was the way the different forms of magic were passed on before there were schools devoted to teaching youngsters magic. A master would take on an apprentice and teach him, or her, everything they knew."

"Oh," Harry said, he'd never really thought about the topic.

"Haven't you ever wondered why one of your professors is given the title of 'Master' while none of the others are?" Corinne demanded, selecting another sprig of nightshade from a basket beside her.

"Eh... no?"

"Not even once?" Corinne replied in disbelief as she looked up before rolling her eyes and shaking her head. "Arianhrod save me from ignorant whelps!"

"Hey!" Harry protested.

"It's true. The fact that you never once stopped to consider why Severus would have the title Potions Master while Headmaster Dumbledore, widely believed to be the foremost expert on Transfiguration, doesn't have the title of Transfiguration Master proves it."

"It's not my fault that I was raised in the Muggle world," Harry retorted.

"Muggleborn, are ye?" Corinne questioned, surprised, her accent thickening slightly as she looked up.

"No," Harry replied defensively, eyes narrowing. "I was simply raised by Muggle relatives."

"Oh don't give me that look," Corinne stated. "I was simply surprised. Mystic Alley isn't well known and people don't normally stumble upon it. You need to be told."

"Oh," Harry said, knowing it sounded lame.

He was so used to comments on Muggle heritage being derogatory that he hadn't even considered that there might be another reason for her question.

"I'm going to assume that you were told."

"Yes, but my friends stumbled through the wall by accident. They were pressing themselves against it and fell through."

"It happens occasionally, though not often. The ancient magicks are a bit temperamental, they can have a mind of their own, though they can't go against the reason they were cast. And they tend to favour their caster."

"But I thought magic was just a... an inanimate... thing that witches and wizards could manipulate."

"Goodness, no!" Corinne exclaimed, looking up again. "Although that does seem to be what is commonly believed and taught these days. I find that ironic considering that Hogwarts is so full of magical quirks that are difficult to explain with that belief.

"Magic is so much more than a mere tool that witches and wizards can utilise. It is a force far older and far more powerful than most realize as so much has been lost over the centuries and even millennia. Regardless of what they make you believe in school, knowledge of magic has been decreasing over the years and not the opposite. So much has been lost. And, instead of acknowledging this and attempting to recover what little they can, the Ministry classifies it as Dark and makes it illegal because they don't understand it and fear its power, especially at the hands of someone who does understand it and can wield it."

"But why?" Harry demanded, fascinated.

"Because they fear it," Corinne paused. "And because those most known for using it have had their reputations tarnished like Lord Salazar Slytherin."

"But he was against Muggleborns!"

"Yes, but he had a good reason for it, one that has been conveniently forgotten. You see, Salazar's parents and younger sister were burned at the stake for being what they were by Muggles, while his wife was betrayed to his enemies by a Muggleborn."

"Oh," Harry said, absently aware that he was starting to sound like a broken record.

Betrayal he could understand. It was what had ripped his family apart, one way or another. Revenge was also something he could empathize with; he wanted nothing more than to get his hands on Peter Pettigrew. But to generalize that hatred to a whole group of people, just because of the actions of a few?

"That doesn't make it right to have it in for all Muggleborns though."

"No, but what you must understand is that those were different times. Muggles were zealous in their pursuit of witches and wizards. While it is true that in the majority of cases they only ended up killing other Muggles, they did get your kind too."

"But that's not a reason to kill them!" Harry declared. "That would only serve to make him no better than those he despises."

"Ah, but Lord Salazar didn't advocate killing Muggles and Muggleborns. He just wanted to refuse them admittance to Hogwarts and the Wizarding World. It was his belief that if we cut off all interaction between our two worlds that the bloodshed could be avoided."

"That's not what I've been told."

"Ah, and who told you that? What is the source of their information? Do they have an authentic old document or book dating back to Lord Salazar's time or shortly thereafter? Or is their source some Ministry sanctioned document that has been so thoroughly cleaned and edited that its original form and wording has been hopelessly lost even to the Department of Documents & Records?"

"I... I don't know," Harry admitted, cocking his head. "What's your source?"

"Touché," Corinne laughed, her accent making the word sound musical. "Very good. My source is an ancient tome, a biography of Lord Slytherin's life by one of his contemporaries. One whom was neutral in the strife and discord of the time. He is in parts critical and in parts praising of his subject's life, experiences, and accomplishments."

"I see," was all Harry could reply.

"Just remember to be critical of what you read and learn. Don't simply accept it at face value."

"I'll consider it," Harry stated, wondering if he should apply the same advice to what he'd learned from this conversation.

"That's the best place to start," Corinne declared, a mysterious smile on her face as she looked at him.

Harry had the strangest feeling that she knew exactly what he'd been thinking, but that was ridiculous, wasn't it? Surely he'd have heard if wizards possessed the ability to read people's minds. Though he could see why the professors and the Ministry wouldn't want students to know about that talent if it existed.

Hmm. Maybe this encounter had affected him more than he currently realized.

The young wizard was startled from his thoughts when the torch next to the entrance of the apothecary blazed to life without any warning. Stepping back automatically, he whirled around as the crackling of a fire behind him caught his attention. On the other side of the alley, next to the entrance of a closed shop that appeared to sell antiques, was another torch burning away merrily.

The dancing shadows to his left drew his attention to another torch further down on the alley side, and beyond it another and another, each interspersed equally on both sides along the way. Now that his attention was finally on the alley itself, Harry could hardly draw his eyes away from it. Signs hung above doors of shops, alerting customers to their names and providing clues as to what could be found within. Creeping up the sides of the stores and around the torches were several vines with dark purple, yellow, and red flowers. The glow of the fires, the gentle aroma of the flowers, and the darkening sky gave the scene a surreal feel to it.

Harry stared at the alley in amazement. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen in England before. In fact it looked more like the photos one of his geography teachers in elementary school had shown of the south of France, though the façades of the buildings looked similar to those of Diagon Alley, with their stepped roofs and decorated window ledges.

"The alley is protected with weather charms to both block out the rain and keep in the heat, hence allowing the growth of more tropical vines," Corinne explained as she got to her feet.

"I was told that there was a good restaurant, a pet shop for rare animals, and a food store here somewhere."

"Yes. Chez Louis, where you can eat and buy food, is just a little ways down along the right side of the plaza you will come to, while Berkhal's store is about three shops past the plaza. I'd suggest you go to Berkhal's first seeing as he closes in just over forty-five minutes."

"Thank you," Harry said, noting how different the French word sounded coming off her tongue.

"You're welcome. And remember what I told you. Now run along, and stop by the next time you're here."

"I will," Harry promised, knowing that he definitely wanted to learn more about the intriguing witch, when another thought crossed his mind. "Though it might be a while before I can make it back here."

"That wouldn't have anything to do with yer disguise, now would it?" Corinne asked innocently before she laughed at the boy's panicked expression. "Oh don't worry, I won't tell anyone. I wouldn't know who to tell anyway seeing as I don't know who you are, just that you're wearing a wig and have made an effort to hide the contours of your face as well."

"Uh, thanks, I think," Harry said.

Corinne laughed as she made shooing gestures with her hands. "Away with ye."

Not knowing what else to say, Harry simply nodded and smiled before walking away down the alley. Soon enough he could make out an intricately carved white fountain bubbling water ahead of him in the middle of the alley. As he got closer he saw that he'd reached the plaza Corinne had mentioned as the buildings were suddenly much further back, creating a large square with benches around the fountain and potted plants. To the right there were tables of various sizes outside of a restaurant. The flower perfume in the air was quickly overpowered by the rich aromas emanating from the establishment.

Zera began to shift along his arm as his own mouth began to water and his stomach growl. Merlin, he was starving! So much for his former ability to survive on small amounts of food, though then he wasn't growing as much as he was now. Or, at least, not as fast.

First things first, he needed to get Zera her food so that she'd have enough for the rest of the summer at the very least. After that he was sure she could hunt on her own or he could get Dobby to bring her whatever she needed. Forcing his head to turn back to where he needed to go, Harry approached the fountain. The carvings he'd noticed earlier turned out to be of several different magical creatures, including a unicorn from whose horn water sprouted and a kappa peeking out from the waterline with drips of water running down its head, making it look as if the monkey-like creature had only just popped its head up. As he walked around it, he noticed that there was also a phoenix on the verge of taking flight, water trickling from its eyes and shooting from its beak. Twined around the centre of the fountain with its head poised to strike was a basilisk whose fangs slowly, lazily, dripped water while more liquid languidly gurgled from its mouth. Interspersed among them were tiny fairies, some of which had small arches of water emitting from their fingers.

Finally, as he reached the far side of the fountain, a baby dragon came into view. His first thought was of Norbert again, but it didn't seem to him to be a Norwegian Ridgeback. It had small ridges along its back, rough and pointed scales with a spiky tail and small tufts of hair at each of its four clawed feet. Its two wings were folded back and looked very small, though that could easily have been due to its age. What caught Harry's attention most of all, however, was the fact that all of the creatures occasionally moved. Not so much as to make it kitsch, but just enough to make it exotic, at least for someone with his upbringing.

Harry walked backwards so he could admire the fountain for a little longer before he turned around as he reached the opposite end of the plaza. Instead of going straight as before, the alley from here started to wind along. Wondering if he'd just forgotten which side the pet store was supposed to be on or whether Corinne had simply forgotten to tell him, he glanced at both sides and stopped when he saw a window with tanks just inside of it, each of them was filled with a small reptile or insect. Well, at least he knew this shop specialized in unusual animals, as he hadn't seen tarantulas in the Diagon Alley menageries.

As he approached the entrance, his eyes slid along the alley's side to the next few stores. Two shops further on was one called Parchments, Pearl Inks & Crest Waxes. It was with a start that Harry remembered that he needed to buy red ink for his contributions to the prank book. Though he wasn't sure what pearl ink was, it was probably a good bet that they'd have regular ink as well.

"Hello, looking for something in particular or just browsing?" an elderly man inquired as Harry entered the pet store.

"Yes, uh, I mean, I'm looking for snake supplies," Harry replied nervously. "If you carry any."

"That depends on what type of snake you have," the man responded without even a moment's hesitation.

"Milk snake," Harry said, blinking at how unfazed the wizard was. Somehow he'd expected a more... prejudiced answer.

"Milk snake, that would be a Lampropeltis as well as a type of kingsnake. Right this way, Sir. I have a number of items your little friend might like."

The man led Harry down the second aisle from the entrance. He stopped in front of a section a quarter of the way from the end. The shelves there contained a number of boxes with moving snake pictures on them which hissed nonsense words. Zera obviously heard it from her position on his arm and he brought his other arm to rest on top of her as she started to shift, managing to make it look like he was simply scratching an itch.

"These jars contain shrunken prey animals, such as mice, frogs, birds, and lizards. This way you can select your snake's favourite prey."

"Prey animals?" Harry repeated weakly.

It was one thing to let Zera outside to hunt or to provide her with eggs, but it was something altogether different to place a helpless animal in front of her so that she could kill it.

"Don't worry," the wizard chuckled. "The manufacturers anticipated that some people wouldn't want to feed their pets live animals, so these prey animals aren't alive. They're snake food made into different forms and animated to act like real animals so the snakes can still hunt their prey. Much in the same way chocolate frogs leap about like real frogs."

"That's clever," Harry commented, remembering how Zera had mentioned preferring to capture her own food instead of being given it.

"It keeps both pet and owner happy. Not to mention that each is a well balanced meal, ensuring that the snake gets all that it needs in each meal to keep it healthy and shiny. All you need to provide in addition is water. Well, for grown animals anyway. Is your snake fully grown?"

"No, she's yet to reach her full-length."

"In that case you'll need to supplement her diet with this," the man said as he pulled a jar filled with an amber liquid from another shelf. "You can either add some of it to her water or dip the prey animals into it before releasing them."

"Okay," Harry said, taking the jar. "How long will this last?"

"There's enough in there to last you for two to three months depending on how often you feed her."

"Does it keep?"

"Yes, the jar's been charmed to preserve its contents until it's opened. After that it should last for six months before you have to throw it out. But trust me, you'll know when it goes bad as it will start to reek. Not that it smells pleasant to begin with, for humans anyway. Apparently snakes like its scent."

"And how do I enlarge the prey animals?" Harry asked as he tried to remember everything he was being told.

"They'll do so automatically when removed from the jar, so don't spill it as they'll all enlarge and become animated. There's one other thing that you might be interested in," the man continued as he grabbed a clear plastic bag of what looked like owl treats, only smaller. "These are snake treats, think of it like snake candy."

"Will she eat it? It doesn't look like prey."

"Oh, trust me, these things don't need to. They are attractive enough without needing further enticement. Though, remember, it's like candy so your milk snake shouldn't get too many of them at once. I'd keep it to two, three at most, in one day."

"Thank you, Sir."

"No problem. I'll be up front when you've made your selections."

The moment the man had walked away, Harry brought his arm up and uncovered Zera's head.

*What happened before you fell earlier? It wasss mossst unpleasssant.*

*That's a long story, I'll tell you about it later, okay? Though we'll have to do it again before we get home.*

*Okay. What'sss that hissssssing?* Zera questioned.

*The boxes of the snake food,* Harry replied, pointing to them.

*I sssee.*

*The food is charmed to act like real animals. What would you rather have mice, frogs, lizards, salamanders, small birds, bird eggs, fish, or, ew, baby snakes?* Harry asked, wrinkling his nose at the thought of her eating other snakes.

*How many can I choossse?*

*Let's see, there are fourteen per jar and it says to eat one a day and we have about three weeks until school starts, so we need two of them.*

*Mice and sssalamandersss pleassse.*

*Okay,* Harry replied, covering her up before he grabbed the boxes along with a jar of supplements and three bags of treats.

He brought them to the counter and paid, gladly accepting a bag so that the jar couldn't break and spill all over his mother's mementoes.

"If you want any additional supplies during the school year, just send your order and a Gringotts draft via owl. Here's a list of snake related items with their prices and instructions," the owner said as he slipped a role of parchment into the bag.

"Thank you," Harry said before he left the store and hurried over to the ink store, relieved to see that it was still open.

Not seeing anyone as he entered, Harry wandered over to a rack that contained ink wells. Looking them over, he noticed that all the colours had a peculiar sheen to them. Frowning, he peered closer at them.

"Pearl ink," a voice behind him stated curtly, causing him to jump in surprise. "Far beyond your price range, I'm sure."

Harry turned around and found himself confronted with a witch who seemed to be some weird cross between Professor McGonagall and Rita Skeeter. It was something he would gladly have gone without seeing. She had her dyed blond hair pulled back into a severe bun and wore robes with strict lines and no unnecessary ruffles or ornaments. The colour, however, was a ghastly orange that clashed horrendously with the bright blue shoes and earrings she wore. At the moment she stood completely straight so that she could peer down at him from the two inches height she had over him. Her nose was scrunched up as if smelling something foul.

For a moment Harry was affronted until he remembered the clothing he was currently sporting. It was actually only good fortune that he hadn't come across more of such attitude.

"Do you have any red ink?"

"What brand are you looking for?" the woman questioned haughtily.

"Uh, nothing in particular, just so long as it writes on parchment. It's for school."

"Oh. The cheap brands are in the back over there," she pointed at a dark corner.

Purposefully forgetting to thank her, Harry hurried over and glanced at the selection. Finding some wells that sported a familiar looking logo, he glanced about, finding green and blue ink right away, before he found the red tucked in behind the brown ink. There weren't very many red wells, but he figured that it probably wasn't commonly used - except by professors. Especially ones like Snape who loved to write nasty and derogatory comments all over students' work.

Harry froze at the thought before shaking it off. Regardless of what else Snape might be, he was an utter bastard to non-Slytherin students. Quickly, he grabbed a second well and brought them to the counter where the witch was watching him like a hawk. She sneered as he paid her and left.

Outside, he put the ink wells into the same bag as Zera's food, carefully tying it before placing it into the bag he'd brought with him. He then walked back towards the plaza. As he passed the fountain on the opposite side he saw that there was also a chimaera sculpture in it which spouted a large stream of water from its roaring mouth.

Just as he reached the restaurant's tables, a young waiter seemed to appear out of thin air beside him.

"Bonjour Monsieur, can I 'elp you?" the boy inquired in a heavily accented voice.

"I'd like to eat here," Harry said, recognizing the accent as the same one the Beauxbatons students had possessed and wondered if he was still a student there.

"Just for you or are you expeczing company?"

"Just for me."

"Right zis way, monsieur," the waiter said as he walked past several empty tables that were set for four or five.

Harry ignored the looks he received from some of the other diners as the waiter led him to a slightly more secluded table set for two. At first he thought the man was trying to hide him from the other customers before he realized that all the tables set for two were set off a little from the rest. Probably to give couples some privacy. It was just as well as this meant that he'd be able to feed Zera.

"Here is ze menu," the waiter said as he handed him a thin brown leather booklet as soon as he'd seated himself. "I shall be back shortly to zake your order."

As soon as he opened the menu, Harry frowned as everything was written in a foreign language, probably French. Then the letters seemed to swim before his eyes briefly before they came into focus once more, only now everything was written in English. Smiling at the handiness of magic, he quickly scanned the options. Knowing that Zera wouldn't want to eat anything cooked, he looked for an appetizer that might contain raw meat. The best he could find was a dish with smoked ham and melon. It would have to do for now until they got home as he didn't want to test just how life-like the mice and salamanders turned out to be here.

It only took Harry a moment to find the rabbit the twins had mentioned among the main course meat dishes and he decided to take that, even though it was a bit pricy. Today he could afford to pamper himself a little. He was just looking over the drinks when the waiter returned.

"Are you finding everyzing?" the boy asked.

"Yes. I'd like to have the parma ham and melon first followed by the rabbit."

"And to drink?"

"The white grape and peach juice mix," Harry replied, deciding to be daring. "And a glass of sparkling water, please."

"I'll be right back with ze drinks," the waiter stated as he took the menu and left.

As he waited for the drinks and food to arrive, Harry leaned back in his chair and relaxed. He glanced around the plaza lazily and, upon catching sight of a clock on one of the bigger buildings, he was surprised to find that it was only half past six. He'd spent less time talking to Corinne than he'd thought.

When the food came, he coaxed Zera into eating a portion of the ham before he rapidly devoured the rest himself. The rabbit was as good as the twins had claimed, though at the end of it he found that he still had enough room for a dessert and quickly ordered a dame blanche as it sounded good. It was with a contented stomach that Harry asked for the bill. As he waited he glanced around the plaza again and his gaze fell on the clock. Blinking in surprise, he stared at it for a moment. Instead of giving him the time as it had earlier, the hands now simply pointed to 'Time to buy food.'

How did it know that he needed to get himself food to make it through the rest of the summer? It couldn't be that everyone present needed to buy food now. Harry was distracted from his thoughts as the waiter returned with his bill.

"'ere you go," the young man said.

"Thanks," Harry replied, glancing over it quickly before pulling the necessary coins from his pouch. "Do you know where I can buy some food?"

"Yez, you can do so 'ere. Just go inside and up ze stairs."

"Thank you," Harry said as he gathered his bags.

Once above the restaurant, Harry was confronted with several large buffet style tables covered with packages of prepared food. Unlike their Muggle counterparts, however, the meals seemed to be fully prepared and smaller than they should be. Figuring that they were probably shrunk like Zera's food, Harry wandered along the tables, selecting the dishes he wanted. All together he found ten that he wanted to try. Carrying them to where a girl dressed like the waiter stood waiting, he placed them on the counter.

"How do I prepare them?"

"All you need to do is open the packaging to end the stasis spell cast upon them," the girl informed him. "It'll also activate the expanding and heating charms so it's best to place the dish on a table first. Would you like a bag?"

"Yes, please," Harry replied even as he wondered how in Merlin's name he was going to get the food into his bag as it was bulging already.

As it turned out, he needn't have bothered worrying as the girl pulled out a really small bag, hardly big enough to hold one of the containers, let alone ten. Yet, somehow, she managed to get them all in there without any trouble at all. Oh how he loved magic!

"That's twenty-four Galleons and seven Sickles."

Harry counted out the money before placing the small bag into his pocket and heading on his way. As he exited the restaurant, he refused to look up at the clock again and simply made his way back down the alley. When he made it to the wall hiding the entrance to Mystic Alley the apothecary was closed, though the light peeking between the curtains of one of the windows above the shop indicated where its mysterious owner might be.

With a deep breath and a hissed warning to his familiar, the Boy-Who-Lived stepped through the wall. He stumbled out the other side but managed to remain on his feet this time around. Drawing himself up straight, he hurriedly made his way back towards the Leaky Cauldron, being careful to avoid looking into the eyes of the people who rushed by him. He was especially careful as he passed the entrance to Knockturn Alley as he didn't want to run into any of its denizens who might feel safe enough to wander out under the cover of night.

It was weird to pass the darkened shops he'd only ever seen during the day when they bustled with activity. It was a relief when he made it through the archway and into the Leaky Cauldron which appeared, if anything, to be even busier than normal. He managed to bump into only two people as he crossed the room before he was out the door and standing in Muggle London once more.

"Now, to find a cabbie," Harry muttered to himself as he looked around.

When he didn't immediately see one, he headed down the street the way he'd come earlier. Soon, however, he was hopelessly lost, the dark successfully shrouding anything he might have recognized despite the pools of light created by the street lamps. Wandering around until he came to a more crowded area, Harry shifted the strap of his bag before walking towards where there seemed to be the greatest number of people.

As he walked, Harry glanced into the windows of the shops he passed, spotting the video game Dudley wanted along with several chemistry and biology books that would have Hermione in seventh heaven. As he reached a series of clothing boutiques, he amused himself by imaging people he knew in some of the outfits he saw. As he reached an intimate apparel store, he sped up a little not wanting to continue his game with the bizarre items he saw there. Who would want to wear something with that much lace anyway? What was the point of wearing something so transparent? As if that wasn't enough, even the regular pieces they carried were distorted. Like the brightly coloured socks that had a separate place for each toe.

It turned out to be a good idea to follow other people as he ended up on a busier road along which a few cabbies were parked. Making his way to the closest one, Harry opened the rear door and got in.

"Magnolia Crescent, Surrey, please," Harry said, knowing that if his aunt spotted him getting out of a cab there'd be hell to pay. It was a blessing in and of itself that the Dursleys had never questioned how he got his school supplies and he really didn't want to push his luck.

"That's going to cost you," the driver said as he turned in his seat.

"I can pay," Harry reassured the man as he pulled out the pounds he'd converted earlier and hoped he'd have enough.

With a grunt the driver took the money and peeled off the bills he needed before handing the rest back and starting the car. Settling into one of the seats facing the rear of the car, Harry watched the city pass by until the buildings began to get bigger as they neared the outskirts of the city. He must have fallen asleep as the next thing he knew, the driver was telling him to wake up as they'd just entered Surrey.

A yawn escaped his mouth as Harry did his best to stretch and flatten his hair.

"What number did you say it was?" the cabbie asked as he pulled onto Magnolia Crescent.

"Um, number two," Harry replied quickly, lips twitching at the irony. "Thank you," he continued as he got out when the car pulled to a stop.

Harry instinctively looked towards the pebbly wall next to the garage where he'd first seen the man he believed to be his godfather two years ago. Though at the time he hadn't known the Grim-like dog was James' best friend. Smiling, he turned around and headed towards Privet Drive, being careful to stay in the shadows as he passed by Wisteria Walk. It wouldn't do to get spotted by Mrs. Figg so close to the end of his forbidden journey.

It hadn't taken him long to figure out that her living but two streets from him and being part of Dumbledore's "old crowd" was too convenient to be a coincidence. No, she'd purposefully moved there, probably at the Headmaster's request. It was funny that he hadn't thought of it before the old wizard had asked his godfather to alert them. After all, if he hadn't believed that Voldemort wasn't completely gone, then he'd know that there was still danger and act accordingly.

Harry just wasn't sure if he should be peeved that he'd been watched over all of those years or not. How many times had he been at Mrs. Figg's house over the years while the Dursleys went off to do their own thing? He really thought that she could have at least prepared him for the Wizarding World. Perhaps not have shown him magic, but at least introduced him to some Wizarding customs. Nor did he get why she hadn't revealed herself after he'd attended his first year at Hogwarts. All those times he'd been over at her place then and all she'd done was talk about her cats while they could have talked about something interesting!

Once safely past Wisteria Walk, Harry stopped in the shadow of a tall tree and took off his hat so that he could remove his wig and the pins holding it in place. He scrunched it all up as small as possible before stuffing it in his remaining free pocket. Luckily, the pants and shirt were so baggy that the slight bulge was practically unnoticeable. He then rubbed his forehead vigorously until he was sure his scar was visible once more before he looked himself over as best he could without digging out the mirror. He was just about to continue on his way when a glint of silver reminded him of his ... father's necklace. He carefully concealed it under his shirt before he continued on his way and quickly reached Privet Drive. Standing just out of sight of the Dursley's home, he lifted his arm and made it look like he was scratching the back of his neck for the benefit of anyone who might be watching.

*Zera, you awake?*

*Yesss. Are we back?*

*I'm just about to enter. I wanted to warn you though as I doubt that they'll be very happy with me at the moment. Just stay where you are and please don't give yourself away.*

*They ssshouldn't be allowed to treat you like thisss,* Zera hissed angrily.

*I know, but I've got no choice, what with the wards and all.*

*You wanted me to remind you to hide your necklace.*

*Yes, I've done it, but thanks for remembering. Okay, here we go,* Harry declared, steeling himself before he walked up to the front of the house and up to the front door.

A failed attempt to open the door quickly confirmed Harry's suspicion that Aunt Petunia had already locked it for the night. Not that he could blame her as it was quite late. Sighing, he rang the doorbell and hoped that someone would actually come open it instead of leaving him outside for a few hours. It had happened before but he doubted that they'd do it so late at night as it would seem odd should he be spotted waiting on the doorstep when there were obviously people home. The sound of approaching footsteps confirmed his theory before the door was pulled open by an angry looking Uncle Vernon.

"There you are, pity you didn't manage to get yourself killed by some lowlife in London."

Harry ignored the remark as he slipped inside just before the door was slammed shut.

Vernon's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the bulging bag his nephew carried. "Hand it over," he demanded, his face quickly turning an unnatural and spotted puce like that artificial ice cream flavour Dudley favoured. "I won't have you using any of your freakish spells while under my roof!"

"But I'm not allowed to anyway," Harry replied, tightening his grip on the bag.

If his uncle saw that he hadn't actually gone to Diagon Alley to buy textbooks, he'd be locked up without food for at least a week! Besides, he didn't want to part with all of his mother's things that he'd just gained.

"I'm not going to trust other freaks to keep you in line," Vernon declared, reaching out and grabbing hold of the bag with one big beefy hand, while his other one grabbed the young wizard by the shoulder. "What you need is discipline. I'd have had you at St. Brutus' long ago if it weren't for that overgrown disgrace of a creature."

"Ow!" Harry cried out as his uncle's fingers dug into his shoulders and the bag was ripped from his hands. "Hagrid's not a creature! He's just a blend between a human and a giant."

"What have I said about mentioning anything abnormal under this roof!" Vernon roared, shaking Harry violently as his face darkened to a deep purple and a vein in his forehead started to throb like it was keeping time with the end of Beethoven's fifth symphony.

Harry fell to the floor as he was abruptly released and slapped. Shaking his head, he absently noted that he now knew what a rag doll felt like. He really did need to learn to watch what he said around his uncle. The problem was that he just seemed unable to stand by while his friends were being insulted. He glanced up as soon as he felt more in control, just in time to watch his uncle make to toss the bag into his old cupboard.

"Careful!" Harry cried out as an image of his ink wells or Zera's nutrient jar breaking and spilling all over the papers and photos in the bag swam before his eyes. "There... there's... potions ingredients in there that... that could explode!" he hurriedly explained.

Vernon's arm froze in place as it'd been stupefied before it began to shake with rage. It was almost comical to watch the large man treat the bag as if it were a blast-ended skrewt as he held it as far from himself as possible and gently put it down on the old cot in the cupboard before he slammed the door shut and replaced the padlock, pocketing the key.

"What is the meaning of this?" Vernon roared as soon as he was sure the door was securely locked. "Books you said! Books!"

"It... I mean," Harry stammered as he scrambled to his feet. "I was short on some supplies and the potions professor would have noticed if I didn't get any more."

Vernon had just taken a step forward when the door to the kitchen opened and Aunt Petunia poked her head in, sneering at him even though she could no longer accomplish it as well as she used to considering that they were now almost the same height.

"How did you get back here from London?"

The look on his uncle's face was priceless as the man suddenly seemed to realize this conundrum and Harry had to suppress a laugh.

"I hitchhiked back."

"And who would want to take along something as disgusting as you?" Vernon demanded.

"Almost no one," Harry replied, seeing that the vein was still throbbing away merrily. "That's why I'm so late."

"Hm," Aunt Petunia said, seeming like she thought it was done daintily. "Well, dinner's long since been eaten and there were no leftovers so you'll just have to wait until tomorrow."

"If you're lucky," Uncle Vernon added, grabbing Harry by the arm and dragging him up the stairs. "Bringing more filth into this house."

"I had to get my supplies."

"Those abnormal teachers of yours had better not show up here, further tainting this house, do you hear, boy?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry responded as he was shoved into his room and the door slammed behind him.

As expected, he heard the lock being turned before there was the sound of his uncle walking away from the door.

"Damnit!" Harry swore softly as he carefully dropped himself into his wobbly desk chair.

Now he'd have to wait until they left his room unlocked at night, which practically never happened, or until he was left with chores while they were out before he could get his stuff back. Luckily he had placed the new food he'd bought in his pocket and he still had some of Mrs. Weasley's quiches and pies to hold him over. Knowing that his uncle wouldn't come back until later tonight to let him use the bathroom, Harry removed his sweater and smiled at Zera.

*He'sss mad again,* she hissed softly as she slithered higher up his arm and onto his shoulder.

*Yes, not that I'm surprised. I did kinda threaten Dudley before I left.*

*Why?* Zera asked as she coiled around his neck like some type of exotic jewellery.

*I don't know,* Harry shrugged. *It just happened. Besides, I prefer getting into trouble for something I actually did than for whatever Uncle Vernon comes up with.*

*Hmm.*

*He took my bag away and your food is in it so it may be a few days before I can get it back.*

*I sssee. Why not ussse your gift on them?*

*What do you mean? I'd get expelled if I use any magic.*

*Not magic, your gift you got from the double people.*

*Fred and George?* Harry inquired as he had to smile at the memory of how long it had taken him to explain the concept of twins to her. Since snakes had multiple eggs in each nest, the concept of having identical offspring due to an egg splitting in the womb was entirely foreign to her and his lack of knowledge on the subject definitely hadn't helped matters any. Nor did the fact that he couldn't say the word in Parseltongue, every time he tried 'twins' came out as 'double people.'

Harry wasn't sure why this happened or if it was even normal as he knew so little about the language and had hardly used it before this summer. The stigma of what had happened in his second year was all too fresh in his memory and he hadn't really seen any use in practicing the language. Now, however, he knew that he would have to come to terms with what his classmates might think as he was determined to take Zera with him to school. He would probably try to hide her from the other Houses, but the Gryffindors would discover her presence eventually and he figured it was better to introduce her to them right away.

*Yesss, them,* Zera confirmed, her tongue flicking against his neck in a way that had become soothing. *Asss you sssay, they'll punisssh you regardlessssss. You might asss well have sssome fun for it.*

*I don't know, anything blatantly magical would just provoke my uncle even further.*

*And he'll what? Lock you up sssome more? You have food and ssstuff to do, well once you collect your thingsss you will. What harm isss there then?*

*Hmm, you've got a point there. And some of the double people's tricks may even come off as natural to people not used to their antics. I'll think about it.*

*They dessserve it,* Zera declared, causing Harry to wonder if all snakes were so vengeful and if that was part of the reason why Salazar had chosen them as his symbol.

* * *

2:48

Harry sighed as he glanced at the clock again for what seemed like the hundredth time that evening. Having nothing better to do, he'd gotten into bed as soon as he'd been allowed to use the bathroom and yet he still hadn't managed to fall asleep yet. The day's events kept running round and round in his mind. Everything from his encounter with Lucius Malfoy, to the contents of the vault, to discovering Mystic Alley and its mysterious inhabitants.

Somewhere around half-past eleven he'd realized that not once during their encounter had Malfoy actually touched him after he'd run into the man. Instead he'd only used his cane as if afraid even touching him would contaminate him with some life-threatening disease.

At midnight, Harry's mind had wandered to Severus and his mother. What he'd seen in the vault was still somewhat surreal on some levels, even though he knew it to be the truth. He just had a lot of trouble wrapping his mind around the idea that Snape was Severus, that the greasy and mean spirited Potions Master he'd known for four years was the same as the well kept and kind, if snarky and sarcastic, boy he'd watched playing chess with the man he'd thought his father and playing in the snow like... like Ron, Hermione and he might.

When twelve thirty had rolled around, he'd been thinking about how Snape was Severus, who was his father. Not James Potter, the charming Gryffindor he'd heard so much about, but the secretive Slytherin only Sirius had mentioned and then only in hatred and spite.

At a quarter of one, Harry's thoughts had turned to Sirius and what he would have to say about the entire situation when he heard. On some levels, he almost wished he could avoid telling the man, just tell Severus the truth and not Sirius. Even as the thought had occurred to him he'd known how impossible it was, but that didn't prevent his mind from wishing it could be so. In the dark of his room, all his doubts came rushing back to him and he was terrified that Sirius wouldn't want him anymore, that his godfather would take one look at him after learning the truth and tell him that he wasn't his godson.

At one, he had remembered the fact that Sirius actually wasn't his true godfather and hence he wasn't his true godson. He'd latched onto the thought, taking the chance to distract himself from his worries with thoughts of his newly discovered godfather. His newly discovered and dead godfather. James Potter. No matter that he wasn't his father and that he wasn't alive today, the man was completely entangled in his life. From everything he'd done for his mother before her pregnancy, to all that he'd done for both her and himself afterwards, the man had definitely played a very important part in his life, even if he couldn't remember him. Without James, he'd probably be dead or worse...

His mother had said that Voldemort might have come for him if he'd known that he was the son of one of his, supposedly, loyal Death Eaters. Harry just couldn't shake the feeling that the reasons for that weren't to kill him and ensure the purity of Death Eater lineages. And he feared that it was more than just the darkness of the room and his thoughts giving him that impression. Who knew where or how he'd have ended up if James and his mother hadn't put on the act that they had?

By the time one thirty had rolled around, he'd gone over every detail of his meeting with Corinne and the delights of Mystic Alley and he still wasn't any closer to falling asleep than when he'd first climbed in bed. He'd decided that Corinne Morgana was a complete enigma from her ethereal eyes down to her unidentifiable accent. He also wasn't sure what to make of what she'd said. He had little love for the Ministry of Magic, not after what had happened at the end of the school year and he'd seen just what an idiot Fudge was. But did they really outlaw a whole branch of magic just because they neither understood it nor knew how to practice it? After thinking on it, he decided that he wouldn't put it past them.

At two, Harry had hoped to bore himself to sleep by creating mental lists of what he had to do when he got out of his room. He'd have to return the different parts of his disguise before they were discovered missing, he had to get his bag back as well as the textbooks he needed to finish any remaining homework he might still have left, he wanted to redo his potions essay now that he had additional resources as he wanted Severus to be in as good of a mood as possible when he talked with him. Not to mention the fact that he'd rather not be insulted by his newly discovered father. Just thinking about how he'd been treated in the past cut deeply.

Much more deeply than it had at the time. Now it wasn't just his most hated professor cutting him down, it was his father. A father who'd wanted children, if what he had said could be believed. What would he think when he learned that he'd already sired a child? Would he be happy, or disappointed? Or... could it be that... he'd be revolted?

Harry's thoughts raced around in his mind, spiralling downwards as time went on. It wasn't until half past three that he finally slipped into a fitful sleep and even then he couldn't escape his worries as he found himself running into an older version of the boy he'd seen in the pensieve, drabbed in his Potions Master's dark robes.

"Watch where you're going you pathetic boy. Can't you do anything right?" the man sneered, disgust clear on his face. "Or is it that you expect everyone to make way for you? For the famous Harry Potter? But you're not a Potter now are you? Would that you had been his as I definitely don't want you."

"I... I--" Harry stammered as he scampered backwards, not bothering to get up.

"What's wrong, boy? Lost the ability to speak? Not that you were ever very articulate to begin with, it's probably better if you just kept your mouth shut," Severus continued as he walked on past the fallen form. "Keep the Potter name as you can't have mine, or better yet, drop it so that you don't ruin James' image. Just be Harry, Harry Nobody."

Cruel laughter, much like Voldemort's rent the air as Severus was swallowed up by the encroaching darkness, and Harry shivered where he lay. The laughter grew louder and louder until it was all encompassing and Harry curled into a tight ball, hands over his ears trying to drown out the sound and his own misery.