The Leaky Cauldron turned out to be a dingy looking pub in the middle of London. He had never been to London before, but all of his focus was on the old building. Harry's brow furrowed slightly, wondering what they were doing there. Could something that looked like that really be magic?
Professor Snape opened the door and followed Harry inside. It was dark, lit by fire instead of electric lights, and filled with people wearing strange-looking clothes. Professor Snape placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and guided him through the pub quickly. Harry wasn't trying to linger, but it seemed that the professor wasn't eager to remain too long.
"Professor Snape!" the barman exclaimed as they passed him. "Can I offer you a drink? Perhaps some butterbeer for the young lad?"
Snape glanced at the barman, black eyes glittering in the darkness.
"No thank you, Tom, not today," he said brusquely, urging Harry on.
"My word," the barman, Tom, breathed. "It can't be... Harry Potter?"
The Leaky Cauldron suddenly went dead silent, as if Tom's quiet words had been broadcasted out over them all.
"Harry Potter?" the murmur rose. "The Harry Potter?" People stood to get a better look at him. Harry swallowed heavily, not liking all the attention at all.
Tom hurried out from behind the bar, reaching for Harry's limp hand.
"Mr. Potter, what an honor to meet you," he said, his grip firm in Harry's. "Welcome back, sir, welcome back."
That seemed to let loose a flood of people, and suddenly everyone in the pub wanted to shake his hand. They crowded around him, all speaking at once, and Harry shrunk back against Professor Snape, hoping desperately that the man would help him.
Before another person could approach, however, there was a loud bang. Harry flinched, and looked toward the sound. Professor Snape's wand was in the air, a look of fury on his face.
"If you're quite finished," he said coldly, his voice echoing throughout the room. "Mr. Potter is here to get his school supplies, not to be gawked at. I suggest you let us pass."
Whether it was the wand in the air, or Professor Snape's foreboding expression, the crowd parted, leaving them a path to the back of the pub. Once they arrived there, a pale young wizard moved forward, apparently not intimidated.
"Quirinus," Professor Snape greeted as he escorted Harry into the alley behind the pub. The wizard followed.
"S-severus," he stuttered, though he was looking down at Harry. "M-Mister Potter, wh-what an honor it is to m-meet you."
"This is Professor Quirrell, Potter. He'll be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts," Professor Snape explained as Harry shook Quirrell's hand.
Professor Snape's wand was still in his hand, and he reached forward, tapping the bricks on the wall at the back of the alley. Harry gasped as the bricks began to shift, leaving a wide archway behind. On the other side, Harry could see a street full of witches, wizards, and shops, and he couldn't help but gape.
"W-well, I'll leave you to y-your shopping," Quirrell said, with a smile that looked more like a grimace. "Be s-seeing you at H-hogwarts, P-potter." And he swept off.
Harry glanced up at Professor Snape.
"Will everyone be like that?" he asked.
"I should hope not," Professor Snape replied with a frown. "Now, we'd best head to the bank. The goblins have been taking care of your inheritance."
"Goblins?" Harry repeated as they started down the alley. "And what's this place called, anyway?"
"Diagon Alley," Snape said promptly. "There's also Knockturn Alley, but you aren't to go down there. It's dangerous, especially for you. And the goblins are in charge of the bank, that white building at the end of the alley. And don't stare," he said sternly.
"I won't."
Harry kept turning his head as they walked, though he made sure to keep close to Professor Snape. There were about a thousand different shops - to buy potions ingredients, robes, even flying broomsticks, and more. His eyes were wide, and he could barely contain his excitement.
Finally, they reached a tall marble building, and climbed the steps. As they passed through a set of doors, Harry got his first glimpse of a goblin. He - or at least, Harry thought it was a he - was short, with pale, wrinkled skin, and long pointed ears. Harry made sure not to stare.
On the second pair of doors, silver this time, words were engraved. Harry slowed down enough to read them.
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn,
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
He frowned slightly. The goblins must take thievery very seriously, then, he thought, if they put a warning like that on their doors.
There were quite a few humans inside the bank, but there were several free goblins, and Professor Snape led Harry up to one of them.
"Good afternoon," he said, with stiff politeness. "Mr. Harry Potter would like to withdraw some money from his vault."
"His key?" the goblin said shortly. Professor Snape reached into his robes and pulled out a small golden key, which the goblin looked at closely.
"Very good," he said. "Someone will escort you to the vault. Griphook!" he called out.
Another goblin appeared. He might be younger than the one behind the counter, though Harry found it difficult to tell.
"Follow me, please," he said, and lead them to the back of the huge room, through a door, to a stone corridor lit by bright torches. The goblin whistled, and a cart rolled into view.
The three of them climbed in - Griphook first, then Harry, and finally Professor Snape - and they were off, hurtling down the tracks and taking sharp turns. Harry couldn't help but grin, imagining that it was what a rollercoaster must be like. He glanced up at Snape, but the professor wore the same sour expression as he had before.
Perhaps he was used to it.
After a while, the cart slowed down, and finally stopped. Harry thought they must be miles below London, and he wondered how anyone found their way around the complicated maze of tracks.
There was a small pathway next to the cart, and a door set into the wood. Professor Snape, Harry, and Griphook exited the car, and Snape handed the goblin the golden key.
Griphook opened the door, and Harry gasped.
It was full of gold, silver, and bronze coins. It must be worth more money than he had ever imagined.
"This is mine?" he asked quietly. But instead of Professor Snape answering, the goblin did.
"Yes, sir. Your trust vault," the goblin said, obviously assuming Harry had been speaking to him. "You will be able to access your full inheritance on your seventeenth birthday."
He had more? Professor Snape said that the Potter's were wealthy, but this was beyond anything Harry had thought.
Glancing up at the professor, Harry stepped into the vault.
"How much should I take?" he asked.
Professor Snape produced a small leather pouch, and handed it to Harry.
"Fill it with mostly galleons. That should be plenty to see you through the year," he instructed.
"Galleons?" Harry asked.
"The gold coins. The silver ones are sickles, and the bronze are knuts. Twenty-nine knuts to a sickle and seventeen sickles to a galleon."
Harry filled the leather bag and slipped it into his pocket, still not quite believing he had so much money in his possession. After a lifetime of being told to be grateful for the scraps from the Dursley's table, it was a lot to take in. Harry told himself he wasn't going to go mad and spend all his money - it had to last for at least the next seven years. And he would be sure not to tell his relatives that he had so much. They would be after it in a heartbeat, if they thought they could get away with it.
The ride back to the surface was just as fun as the ride down, and they emerged from Gringott's Bank, Harry blinking in the sunlight.
"Where should we go first, Professor?" he asked, unsure. He pulled his supplies list out of his pocket to go over it one more time.
"Madam Malkins for some robes, I should think," Snape said, sneering at Harry's hand me down clothes. "This way," and he lead Harry off, down the alley.
Now that he had gold in his pocket, everything seemed all the more interesting, if that was even possible. For the first time in his life, Harry could buy whatever he wanted. And robes seemed like a good idea. It would be nice to have some clothes that Dudley had never worn, and that fit properly.
As they entered the robe shop, he felt Professor Snape stop, just for a moment, before continuing one. Before Harry could wonder why, a squat witch came out to greet them.
"Professor Snape!" she said, smiling at his frowning face. "And a young man for Hogwarts, I see? We have another young man getting fitted in the back. This way."
Harry followed her into the back of the shop, where a pale, blond boy with a pointed face looked up as they walked in. He looked at Harry disinterestedly, before his gaze turned to Snape.
"Uncle Severus!" he exclaimed, and he must have moved and been poked by a needle, because he followed that with an exclamation of pain. "Ow!"
"Hello, Draco," Professor Snape said smoothly, a warmth in his tone that Harry hadn't yet heard. "Where are your mother and father?"
"Father had to go take care of some business," he said importantly, "And mother is just in the other room, giving an order for some day robes."
He looked at Harry again, as if he had just become something worth notice, and Professor Snape spoke.
"Ah. Draco, this is Harry Potter. I'm escorting him to get his school supplies. Potter, this is Draco Malfoy, one of your future classmates, and my godson."
"Nice to meet you," Harry said, trying his best to sound confident.
"Nice to meet you, too," he said, staring at Harry with a new intensity.
The squat witch lead Harry onto a stool, where she started measuring him for his school uniform.
"Why is Uncle Severus-" Draco started, before Snape interrupted him.
"It's Professor Snape, now, Draco, you'd best get used to it," he said.
The boy rolled his eyes.
"Professor Snape, then. Why is he taking you to get your things?"
"My aunt and uncle are muggles, and I don't think they're interested in coming to Diagon Alley," Harry said, somewhat shortly.
"Oh," the boy said, glancing at Professor Snape. "Well, you're lucky that it's him. Professor Snape is the best teacher at Hogwarts."
Harry grinned a bit. Of course Malfoy thought his godfather was the best teacher there was.
"I am," he agreed, thinking of the way Snape had handled his aunt.
Draco seemed pleased that he agreed.
"Well, if you've been raised by muggles, you've got a lot to learn. I can help you there," he said, rather self-importantly.
"I'd like that," Harry replied. Truthfully, he had been somewhat worried that he wouldn't be able to fit in at Hogwarts, considering he hadn't even known it had existed until three days ago.
A curtain was pulled back, and a tall blonde witch entered the changing room, wearing what looked like silk robes.
"I hope you're making friends, Draco," she said softly, before looking to Professor Snape. "Severus. I didn't realize you would be in the alley today."
"It was a last-minute decision," Professor Snape said quickly. "Narcissa, this is Harry Potter. Potter, meet Narcissa Malfoy, Draco's mother."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Harry said, a bit shyly. She was much prettier than his aunt, and somewhat more intimidating.
"And you as well, Mr. Potter," she said warmly. "I hope your enjoying your trip so far?"
"Yes ma'am," he said immediately. "Diagon Alley is amazing!"
"Really, dear, you must call me Cissa," she said. "Have you just begin shopping?"
"Yes, ma'am - um, Cissa," Harry said. "We've only been to Gringotts so far."
"Well, this is our first stop, also," she said, clearly pleased. "Why don't you and Professor Snape join us for the rest of our trip?"
"Can you, Professor?" Draco asked pleadingly. Harry turned his own wide gaze on Snape, who's lips twitched with what just might be a smile.
"I suppose that would be acceptable."
Cissa smiled at him, and Harry returned the expression.
"Lucius will be meeting us at Flourish and Blott's as soon as we're done here," she said. "Draco's father," she added to Harry's questioning look.
"So, what was it like, being raised by muggles?" Malfoy asked, as his mother and Professor Snape turned away to have their own discussion.
"Horrible," Harry said quickly, then paused, surprised he had admitted that much. But he didn't want to lie to his new friend, and he decided he didn't need to go into details. "They hate magic."
Malfoy's nose wrinkled.
"That's terrible," he said solemnly. "I can't imagine. Have you even heard of quidditch?"
Harry shook his head.
"Merlin! It's the best sport that is!" he exclaimed, and delved into the game, detailed the seven players on each team, the three balls, and the best broomsticks.
He was just whispering to Harry that he was going to try and smuggle a broom into Hogwarts, as first years weren't allowed them, when the witch who was measuring Harry straightened.
"That's you done, dear," she said cheerily. "Do you just want the basic black, or is there anything else?"
"Um," Harry said, glancing up at Professor Snape, who spoke.
"Perhaps some day robes?" he suggested, and Harry nodded. It would be a good idea to get something besides his uniform, he thought.
"Yes, that," he said, and the woman helped him pick out some colors.
Harry and Draco left the shop, and, as Harry listened to Draco talk about the four Hogwarts Houses and his hopes to get into Slytherin, he thought that he might have made his second friend.