Birthrights and Bank Accounts

With a barely audible "pop", a tall but wizened man appeared on the rubbish-covered bank of a dirty river. Dressed in a baggy pair of trousers and a shirt so long it could only properly be called a tunic, he rustled by unnoticed by any eyes, human or otherwise. Although the industrial area in which he'd arrived was in the middle of a sudden spectacular mid-summer thunderstorm, the man didn't seem bothered. A casual on-looker, had they been able to see him, might have decided his red-and-gold horizontally striped attire was made of a new, technologically advanced fabric as it didn't seem to be affected by the deluge, save for the fact that neither was the man's long white hair and beard. And despite the fact that he was strolling through mud and the detritus of a town quickly on its way to being forgotten, his clothing wasn't getting encrusted in dirt either.

At the top of the bank, the man paused for a moment and withdrew a very straight stick, which also appeared to be very aged (in fact, nearly as aged as the man) from the inside of his sleeve. Peering over his half-moon spectacles, he murmured something, twirling the stick fancily in his fingertips, almost as if he were trying to decide in which direction to head. Presently, he tucked the stick back into his sleeve and strode purposefully toward the narrow cobbled street, passing so skillfully through the rusted old railings that it appeared he'd walked through them. Passing the row of houses closest to the bank, he crossed a narrow alley and came out onto a second street, neatly dodging glass that had spilled from the broken lamps perched above then paused again to repeat the trick with the stick. Satisfied, he wove in and out of the streets and houses, resembling nothing so much as a cat weaving between fence posts, although the tingle of magic about halfway up the street surprised him. He finally came to rest in front of a house on a street called Spinner's End, a tribute to the mill just in the distance lazily belching smoke into the sky. Taking a last look around at the dilapidated state and occasional boarded window of some of the adjacent houses, he looked carefully at the door with the crooked number 49 nailed to it before raising his hand to rap on the door.

After a few moments, the door opened to reveal a dark-haired man with a hooked nose. Confusion flickered across his face for a moment, then as comprehension dawned on him, he stood aside to allow the other, older man entrance, apparently unfazed by the perpetually dry state of the older gentleman who, by the obvious absence of a taxi or other vehicle, had clearly spent some time in the rain.

"Ah, Tobias! I'm so gratified you remember an old man; I've come to speak with you about the secondary education of your son."

The old man stepped inside, and turned to face the resident. As he did so, a shadow in the corner flickered ever so slightly, and he turned to see a skinny, pale boy of perhaps ten or eleven, glowering at him from behind onyx eyes, his hands hidden stiffly behind his back. His father's eyes, thought the old man. And his father's nose, and hair, but definitely inherited Eileen's skin. "Ah! And you must be Severus!" he said, smiling pleasantly. "I am Albus Dumbledore . . . " and here he paused slightly, as if unsure what to say next, but recovered quickly. "I do not know if your mother or her family ever mentioned me to you?"

The boy gave no sign of recognition, but instead flicked his eyes to the man who still stood at the door, who shrugged slightly. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he looked back at the old man, and said softly "Headmaster, isn't it? And before that, Transfiguration?", in a practised, cultured voice that held none of the heavy Yorkshire accent Dumbledore knew Tobias to have.

Dumbledore beamed. "Yes, yes, I was your mother's Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. I beg both of your pardons for barging in like this...have I interrupted anything?"

The boy didn't answer, but glanced slowly back at his father. "Nowt tha' can't wait" drawled Tobias, waving his arm in the general direction of the sitting room.

"Ah, excellent. Then we can get right to the good news!"

Severus hadn't moved a muscle except to breathe and his eyes, which looked at the old man sceptically.

"I was sorry to hear of Eileen's death," Dumbledore began formally, taking a seat on a threadbare sofa. "She was a bright student," he continued, shaking his head sadly. "I wish I could say I were surprised, but I am not."

Severus, still in the shadows in the corner, scowled. This didn't sound like good news to him.

"However!" the old man continued, when it became obvious that neither of the Snapes wished to be commiserated with. "I've come to offer Severus a position at the same school Eileen went to; although I no longer teach, I am now headmaster of that same school."

Tobias closed his eyes for a moment and wheezed. "Wha's tuition cost? A fancy place like tha', I'll not be able ter afford tuition."

"That's actually why I was sent. You see, normally, it would be the Deputy's job to come to a student's house. I don't know, Tobias, how well you knew Eileen's family?"

"Not well," Tobias answered neutrally. "Quiet lot, them. They took care o'Severus durin' t'day an' weekends, though, after Eileen died an' all."

"Ah . . . yes, they always were very modest. Hard-working, though, brilliant, and studious. Some of the best academics we've ever known."

Tobias snorted. "Airy lot, them . . ." he said contemplatively, then fell into a fit of coughing. Severus glanced at his father, and frowned nearly imperceptibly.

Dumbledore chortled. "Yes, they can be that, too. But that's not what I've come to discuss. Eileen's great-grandfather, Everard...he presided at your wedding, I believe?" Tobias merely grunted in reply. "Well, he was headmaster of Hogwarts...in fact, we became quite close as he was headmaster early in my teaching career. Therefore it falls to me, as the current headmaster, to deliver the invitation."

"I will not take charity," insisted Severus from the corner, his chin lifted in defiance. "I have been raised better than that . . . by my father...and by my mother."

Dumbledore wondered at the difference in speaking styles of father and son. Eileen, while never sloppy or unintelligible in her speech, hadn't spoken with nearly such a pronounced properness. It was as if this boy were afraid to be associated with his father, although he could not detect any untoward bad feeling between them. "I have, perhaps, not made myself clear, my dear boy. There is, indeed, a Hogwarts general fund for students who cannot afford to attend; however, that is not what I am offering you. Your great-great-grandfather, who is from a long line of very respected wizards, left a trust for all his descendants to ensure they would be able to attend Hogwarts. This is not charity...this is yours by birthright."

The boy's eyes flitted back to his father. "Wha's it pay for?" queried Tobias from the ragged armchair in which he sat.

"I beg your pardon?"

"What. Does. The fund. Pay. For." Severus interpreted, his enunciation so precise one might have thought he was teaching English to a foreigner. The boy's face was inscrutable, and although Dumbledore was taken aback by the boy's meter, his tone was not disrespectful.

Dumbledore smiled. "Well . . . everything. Uniforms, supplies and books...the school is funded by the wizarding government so there is no tuition or room and board to pay for."

"If not, Eileen said she 'ad some bank somewhere, but I 'aven't bin able ter find it."

"Ah, yes, Gringotts. I can take you there; we will need to go there anyway to withdraw money from the trust. Fortunately, it's also on Diagon Alley, in the same place as all the shops where Severus will need to buy his school supplies. I don't suppose you happen to know where Eileen kept the key?"

Bewildered, Tobias looked blankly at Severus, who nodded curtly and then slipped silently behind a door. The creaking of the old wooden architecture gave his position away as having scurried up the stairs. Dumbledore looked at Tobias, and said quietly, "If your financial situation is of concern to you, my brother runs an inn, in the village just outside where Severus will be going to school. He's recently begun looking for help...if you'd like, I can arrange a meeting between you."

"Tha's very kind o'yer, but me son's right; we don' take charity."

"It is an open offer, if you wish to consider it," Dumbledore said pleasantly, his benevolent smile not at all offended at the outright refusal.

Severus came back into the room, blanched and with a fine sheen of sweat across his brow. "It's gone, sir. . . . They, they must have taken it!" he blurted out, clearly distressed.

A look of alarm flickered briefly across Dumbledore's face. "No matter. They will have records at the bank." He turned to face the young boy, whose lips were pursed in an obvious bid to get a hold of his emotions. "Severus, why would you have refused schooling without the Prince trust? How would you have learned?"

The boy looked up sharply, his eyes darting back and forth across the old man's kindly face. "I would have taught myself. Like I have been doing," he said, scowling. "I obviously need to teach myself more, if you were able to approach the house," he spat, apparently disgusted about something.

Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise. "You put up those enchantments?!" he asked.

"Of course I put them up! My father cannot, my mother is not here. What was I to do, invite them to come back!?" the boy nearly shrieked in hysteria. There was no question who "they" were.

"Severus," Dumbledore said calmly and chalked the aberration up to a reasonable use of under-age sorcery. "I do not believe you are a target of Tom or his followers."

"Tom?"

"He styles himself 'Lord Voldemort' now, but he himself is a half-blood. He may have gone after your mother, but I do not believe he will go after you."

Severus' eyes, far too advanced for his years, glittered slightly in relief and triumph, but he appeared calmer.

Dumbledore turned back to Tobias. "Will you allow me to take your son to Diagon Alley? I can only safely Side-Along Apparate one person at a time. I will bring him to a safe place and then return for you immediately. Once we are there, I will show you how to get there yourselves, but I want to get to the bank before it closes." Tobias simply nodded. Dumbledore then turned back to Severus. "Have you ever Apparated before?"

"Once," he said, in a very small voice. "When I was little . . . "

"All right, then I won't need to explain it to you," he said, offering his arm, which the boy gripped tightly. And with a slightly louder "pop!" they disappeared into mid-air.

* * *

Severus opened his eyes and looked around apprehensively, taking in the sunlight-dappled bazaar, so different from his home town, with flickering black eyes. As relieved as he was to be in the wizarding world, he was more vulnerable than he cared to think about, but he could think of no alternative. His best hope for the future was to go to Hogwarts. To go to Hogwarts he needed supplies and money, and for that he needed to be in Diagon Alley.

Dumbledore looked askance at the boy who was trying desperately to quell his trembling. Although he was gripping the old man's arm tightly enough to cut off the circulation, his face was impassive. He knew some of the boy's history, but apparently not all of it. He missed whatever made this boy so afraid. He beamed down at the boy, gently guiding him down the street, wincing silently at the boy's tight grip. "Ah, Severus! Do you see that shop on the corner there?" The boy nodded once, sharply. "That is our destination," he said pleasantly, steering the boy to an umbrella-covered table. The boy's eyes roamed about, and he paused. Finally, he tugged the table closer to the wall and sat with his back to it, ramrod straight and hands tightly clenched over the arms of the chair.

"Will you be all right here for a moment, Severus?" Dumbledore asked kindly. Eyes wide, the boy nodded curtly. Dumbledore smiled and stepped inside...Severus followed him with confused eyes; that wasn't the direction he'd expected the man to head in.

Dumbledore reappeared momentarily, tailed by a portly wizard with rosy cheeks who was bearing two large ice creams. Severus flinched slightly at the sight of the man and backed as far as he could into his chair, eyeing the newcomer warily as he placed one of them in front of him. "Severus, this is Florean Fortescue. His great-great-grandfather was also a Headmaster at Hogwarts. I thought you might like to hear more about the school, but you must promise me one thing?"

"What is that, Headmaster?" the boy inquired formally.

Fortescue's eyes darted to Dumbledore in question...Dumbledore waved him off. "You must finish that ice cream before I return with your father. I'm afraid he'd have my hide if he knew I was feeding you dessert before the main course!"

"Main course? Headmaster, I could not possibly. . . " the boy began, but Dumbledore interrupted him.

"Nonsense! I haven't had lunch yet and I'm famished. Nobody but you, me, and Florean here need be the wiser! Florean, do refrain from telling him about all the secret passages in my absence, will you? I must be able to maintain some semblance of order." And with a wink at Severus, Dumbledore swirled off, confident that the boy would be safe in Florean's capable hands despite the boy's disquieted look.

* * *

Dumbledore gave Severus enough time to eat his ice cream, but not much longer because he was concerned the boy would become alarmed at a protracted absence. He wanted to ask Tobias why the child was so on guard, but figured it was Severus' story to tell and refrained. Instead, he took some time explaining the sensation of Apparition to Tobias and brought them to a point further down the street than he'd arrived at with Severus. He took his time on the walk to the ice cream parlour, pointing out shops and telling Tobias some of the tales of the owners or patrons that he had collected during his years at Hogwarts. Tobias was gracious but reserved, although Dumbledore remembered the man to be reserved from their previous meeting.

They arrived to find Severus enthralled in a discussion about the medieval antics of Muggles and the wizarding populace of Britain, which garnered a small smile from Severus. He looks like his mother when he smiles, Dumbledore thought silently. "Florean, this is Tobias Snape, Severus' father."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir," Florean said amiably, standing and offering his hand for all the world as if Tobias were a respected dignitary and not an unemployed industrial-working Muggle. "I don't suppose you three gentlemen have time for an ice cream?" he said, with a wink at Severus, who smiled and looked down.

"I'm afraid not at the moment, Florean," Dumbledore said solemnly, for all the world like he hadn't just ensured Severus had had one. "We've got to get to Gringotts, and I expect they'll close soon, and while I am famished, I'm too old to have dessert first. I'm afraid we'll have to settle for sandwiches."

"I'll be here when you're done," Florean offered with a smile. "Please don't tell me you mean to deprive this intelligent young man of an ice cream after you made him sit at the parlour all this time!" the proprietor protested in mock indignation. Severus snorted softly and shook his head at his father's questioning eyebrow, trying to conceal his smirk and mostly succeeding.

They proceeded down the cobbled street to a small shop filled with the smell of freshly baked bread and hearty spices and picked a table in the corner. Dumbledore waved his arm, indicating the two should sit first, and watched with interest as the boy immediately claimed the corner seat.

Taking his cue from his father, Severus didn't open his menu. Severus knew they could not afford such extravagances, but he could hardly complain, having just eaten an ice cream, for which Mister Fortescue had refused payment, insisting he gave one free ice cream to every child. This turned out to be a good thing since Severus hadn't any money on him anyway.

After they'd settled themselves at the table, Dumbledore looked sharply at both Tobias and Severus and then with a mischievous grin declared that this particular shop was renowned for it's produce...particularly the tomatoes and pickles. Tobias turned sharply to Severus, a warning look flashing across his face, which disappeared immediately as he saw Severus' narrowed eyes, which were raking over the older man in shrewd speculation.

" . . . since none of the vendors on Diagon Alley take Muggle money, and of course we haven't been to the bank yet, I shall, of course, pick this up," Dumbledore was saying, as if nothing were amiss. "The stipend does assume an entire day will be spent shopping, and therefore a meal is an expected expense. So order whatever you like!" he urged.

At that moment, the shop proprietor came to take their order. Dumbledore introduced them, then ordered a roast beef for himself and looked expectantly at Tobias and Severus. Tobias, with obvious reluctance, ordered a cheese sandwich with extra pickle, and Severus ordered a ham sandwich with extra tomatoes and no lettuce, frowning slightly.

Severus was slightly discomfited. He'd spent the last couple of years reading all of his mother's old schoolbooks and all the books he could get his hands on at Prince Hall, memorising spells, charms, jinxes, hexes and curses, and the wand motions that went with them. He'd devoured Hogwarts...A History and regularly read the Daily Prophet, and without any friends or cousins his age to play with, began experimenting with Potions. Mindful of his mother's fate, he'd studied the most complicated and secure house defensive charms he could find, reading them repeatedly until he was confident he'd get the casting right, and used his mother's wand to cast them while his father slept. Even though the response from the wand was a bit sluggish, he'd been particularly proud of himself for mastering the skill at such a young age and with so little training, and had relaxed slightly when the Department of Magical Law Enforcement didn't appear again. He felt marginally more secure behind his locked and now warded doors, and slept more soundly than he had since his mother died.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that his very thoughts weren't secure, and if that were true, everything he'd learned was for naught. He made a mental note to try to find out what if anything, had happened, so he could prepare himself and prevent anything untoward from happening to him later, and he tucked in to his sandwich when it arrived, thinking silently to himself.

Dumbledore watched the boy eat, comparing him to his father and what he remembered of Eileen. His back ramrod straight, he ate slowly and precisely, taking small bites, picking his utensils up very formally and chewing deliberately and carefully (an exact 100 times per bite, Dumbledore noticed). It almost appeared as if the boy had spent his entire life learning how to eat like privileged gentry under constant threat of severe corporal punishment if he put so much as a toe out of line. He glanced at Tobias, who was devouring his meal like an industrial worker on a short break...not sloppily, but neither was he proceeding with such forced formality as his son. Severus thus far hadn't appeared to be afraid of his father or ashamed of him, but he was clearly uneasy about something. Maybe asking him questions would yield some answers? "So, Severus . . .what do you like to do?"

Severus' head snapped up and after he finished chewing (the prescribed 100 times, Dumbledore noticed), swallowed slowly, reached for his drink and took a small swallow, and wiped his mouth carefully before placing his hands in his lap. "I read, sir," he said simply. Dumbledore glanced at Tobias, eyebrows raised slightly.

Tobias shrugged slightly and bestowed a smile on his son. "His ma's brains, he's got, an' thanks for that an' all!" Severus returned the smile shyly. "Always got 'is nose in a book, he 'as . . . "

"What do you read?" Dumbledore continued, noting that the boy hadn't returned to his meal, but he had the feeling it wasn't because he was full from the earlier (illicit) ice cream.

"Everything, sir," he replied evenly.

"Such as?" Dumbledore asked with a raised eyebrow.

"At home I read my mother's books as I am not attending school currently. When father is at work, I go to my grandparents' house, and they have an extensive library."

"Your mother's parents, or your father's?"

"My mother's, sir."

"Ah yes, the Prince library is known to be well-stocked. How did you find the books there?"

"Fascinating, sir."

"Do you have a favourite topic?"

"Yes sir. Defence, sir . . . and Dark Arts," he replied coolly.

Dumbledore blinked. "Two separate topics? Your mother had Dark Arts books?"

"Not very many, sir. There are some at Prince Hall, though."

"What interests you about Dark Arts? Defence and Dark Arts isn't a typical combination for someone to like...they usually prefer one over the other."

Severus was silent for a minute, as if he were choosing his words carefully, and cleared his throat before he began. "Dark Arts, it seems, are frequently used to control others in some way. To understand how to properly defend yourself, I believe you need to understand the basic application of the offensive measures. However, the Dark Arts appear to be easily mutable, so a constant study would be in order."

Dumbledore blinked. "And what are your thoughts on this field of study, Tobias?"

Tobias shrugged. "I dunno. I don' e'en understand wha' he jus' said. I told yer, he's got 'is ma's brains. God knows wha' she saw in me . . . "

Severus turned to his father. "Brains are not everything, father. Brilliant though Mother may have been, it did not help her." Tobias just nodded sadly.

Dumbledore frowned slightly. They seemed to keep coming back to this. He'd have to address this at another time. "Have you finished your meal, Severus?"

"No sir."

"Please don't let me stop you," Dumbledore said, then turned to Tobias to talk to him about Hogwarts so Severus could finish his meal.

When the boy was done, Dumbledore laid some large gold coins on the table and rose from his seat, beckoning the two others to follow him. Severus eyed the coins carefully as he rose to follow his father and the Headmaster.

They walked toward a large, white, marble building. "This is Gringotts...the wizarding bank," Dumbledore explained for Tobias' benefit, as he was quite certain Severus had already read everything he could put his hands on, judging by his manner of speech and the earlier interview. "It's run by goblins...quite clever creatures, goblins. In fact, Hogwarts' current Head of House for Ravenclaw house, Eileen's old house . . . and Everard's, come to that," he said, with a smile at Severus, "is Professor Flitwick, and he is part-goblin."

"Is tha' safe?" questioned Tobias with a protective glance at his son.

"Yes, of course. Goblins are very trustworthy and quite capable."

Tobias just nodded, but looked unconvinced.

"This is the most secure bank in Britain. A number of Muggles keep their money here as well."

"How do they find out about the bank, sir?" enquired Severus, curiosity piqued.

"All of the ones I know about have some family member or other who is a wizard." In an unconscious imitation of his father, Severus nodded.

"Good afternoon, Griphook!" Dumbledore said pleasantly to very ugly being behind a desk. "Allow me to introduce Tobias and Severus Snape. They are Eileen Prince Snape's next of kin and would like to get into her vault. We'll also need to make a withdrawal from the Prince Family Hogwarts trust."

"I see," said Griphook, eyeing the two coldly. "And do they have Eileen's key?"

Severus glanced at Dumbledore in alarm. "Ah, no, Griphook, they do not. The key appears to have been lost. I'm sure I can provide whatever documentation you need."

"That won't be necessary," the Goblin called Griphook replied, waving his wand over father and son, eyeing Severus coldly as he flinched visibly. Apparently satisfied with whatever he found, he directed the boy to sign and fingerprint a document, which he did after a nod of approval from both his father and Dumbledore. When Griphook turned to summon a dark-skinned, bearded and very pointy goblin in unintelligible gibberish, Severus turned to Dumbledore. "Please, sir, my father needs to be able to get to the vault, too. Is there anything you can do?"

"Certainly. Griphook?" Dumbledore enquired politely. "We will need to ensure that Tobias has access to the vault as well."

"He's a Muggle, correct?"

Severus gasped and cringed, causing all three to look at him in consternation. His eyes flashed defiantly he stepped between the goblin and his father. "He is, but my mother was NOT, and he is my father and needs to be able to get into the vault!" he snapped angrily.

"His access to the vault is not in question, only we cannot take signatures, wand weights or magical signatures from Muggles. Provided he can get here, all he will need to do is walk into the bank and come to one of us for access to the vault," the goblin replied coldly, as if unaccustomed to such an outburst.

"That will be fine, Griphook. I think the boy's concern was well-warranted," Dumbledore said. "And now, I believe Mister Ragnok is waiting on us."

The three followed the swarthy-looking goblin past several doors, finally crossing the threshold of one which led into what appeared to be a mineshaft. Father and son watched somewhat uneasily as Dumbledore gracefully climbed in what, for all the world, appeared to be a mine car and eyed the old man with open alarm when he exulted in a delighted voice, "These rides are always SUCH an adventure!" Clearly, neither one were in the mood for any more adventure than they'd already had.

They found very quickly that "adventure" was putting it mildly. Tobias resolved under his breath to never go to the bank after having eaten...preferably in the last week. Severus mentally agreed and was mortified when Dumbledore offered "wait until you learn to fly on a broomstick, Severus...the broomsticks can do all this and more!"

The old man laughed and whooped, then turned around to the other human passengers, both of whom were looking distinctly green around the gills. "Oh dear," the old man said, waving his wand and casting an anti-nausea spell, for which his two companions were immediately grateful. "Well, the ride up isn't usually so . . . wild," he offered.

"Those coins you laid down, sir . . . the gold ones? What were they?" Severus asked, once he was brave enough to speak.

"Ah, those were Galleons. The silver ones are called Sickles...there are 17 Sickles to a Galleon, and the bronze ones are Knuts...there are 29 of those to a Sickle."

"'ow much is a Galleon worth?" asked Tobias, a little less bravely.

"Hm . . . the exchange rate varies, but if I recall correctly, it's typically about three to five pounds sterling," Dumbledore answered just as they slowed to a stop.

"Vault 652," intoned Ragnok nasally.

"You'll both need to remember the vault number," Dumbledore whispered to them. They nodded.

Severus watched carefully as the goblin dragged a finger down the door. "We will have a new key cut for you in a few minutes," he said as the door unlatched.

"Go on, lad," Tobias told his son with a smile. "It's yer money." Severus pulled back the vault door . . .

. . . and a mostly empty vault was revealed.

There were very few coins inside: a single silver Sickle and two bronze Knuts, (and no gold ones, Severus thought bitterly), and Severus' head whipped around, quickly enough to catch Dumbledore's fleeting look of alarm.

"Wha's tha' ?" Tobias said, pointing at a piece of parchment that Severus' glance into the vault had missed.

Severus spun around and grabbed the old paper, studying it intently. He took a deep breath, clenched his eyes shut trying to suppress the bitter sting of tears that threatened to break through, and crumpled the parchment in his hand, shaking his head angrily. "Nothing," he said bitterly. "It's nothing," he insisted.

"Severus, may I see that?" Dumbledore queried kindly. Severus shook his head, both fists and jaw tightly clenched. "Please, may I see it?" he insisted.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, the boy looked up at the old man. Lower lip quivering, he slowly handed the paper to him. Tobias looked at his son in alarm and strode over to him. "Wha's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's nothing," he repeated, burying his face in his father's chest, and resolving to make the bastards pay.

Dumbledore glanced at the two of them, then, satisfied that the boy was in the best hands, uncrumpled the parchment.

No wizarding gold for blood traitors, Muggles and their ill-begotten half-blood spawn!

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head sadly. "Thank you, Ragnok," Dumbledore said. "Do we need to be upstairs to make the withdrawal from the Trust, or do we do that at another vault?"

"Withdrawals from trusts are made in the office," Ragnok replied in a bored voice, heading back to the car and indicating they should follow.

Dumbledore waved his wand and the vault door slammed shut, and clambered into the car after Severus and Tobias.

"Wha' jus' 'appened there?" Tobias asked when the cart started moving.

Dumbledore sighed. "It would appear that the men who killed your wife took her key and raided the vault. I will see what I can do about getting the money refunded to you, but it is frustrating and upsetting." Tobias just nodded solemnly and shot a look of sympathy at his son, who looked utterly miserable.

"No 'fense, sir, but yer know I 'ave ter ask. Is't safe for me son ter go to this school o' yours?"

Severus' head snapped up in alarm. "Da', I HAVE ter go!" he pleaded, slipping into more familiar speech. "Don't . . . " he said, before Dumbledore held up his hand to stall him.

"You ask a good question, Tobias, and I would have thought ill of you had you not asked. To answer honestly, I must tell you that a school like Hogwarts does, indeed, have its dangers, but I honestly believe that it is in Severus' best interest to be schooled there. As well you know, the wizarding world is in the middle of a war. Hiding from that fact will not protect you or your son, and his greatest chance for success within the wizarding world is to be educated, and he will have the opportunity to make friends."

Tobias nodded. "Well, 'e's got such a talent, such brains...it don' seem fair ter keep 'im from going to the school, 'specially seein' as 'e wants ter go, an' it's paid for, an' all..."

His father's assurance of schooling given, Severus relaxed slightly and sniffled.

They arrived back in the bank and made the arrangements for the withdrawal from the trust in the amount required for Severus' first year expenses, then made their way back out to Diagon Alley.

"Now, Severus," Dumbledore smiled, "I know you said you like to read, so let us go to Flourish and Blotts first to pick up your schoolbooks." Despite the unpleasant happenings of earlier in the afternoon, that was able to garner a small smile from the boy. They arrived at the bookstore, and Dumbledore deftly selected the books the boy would need under the boy's watchful gaze. He picked up a few of them and thumbed through them rather deliberately, then put five of them back on the shelf.

"I already have these," he said to Dumbledore's questioning glance.

"Don't you want new ones? You can afford it."

"No . . . my copies are fine, and this one," he said, holding up Elementary Potion Making by Libatius Borage, "has fewer recipes than my copy of the same book."

"How do you know that?" Dumbledore asked.

"Because I have already memorized these books," the boy replied simply. "May I get another book instead?" he asked both the headmaster and his father. Tobias shrugged, and Dumbledore nodded. Severus walked to the front of the store to pick out his book, then returned with Compendium of Common Curses and slipped it in the cauldron Tobias was carrying.

They continued shopping, making Slug and Jiggers their second-to-last stop. Once again, Severus astonished Dumbledore with his exacting scrutiny of the ingredients, returning two objects to the shelf and exchanging them for what he deemed to be more acceptable substitutes.

Their last stop at Diagon Alley was Ollivander's. Severus initially protested, saying he had his mother's wand, but Dumbledore would hear nothing of it. "It is not unknown to have a wand passed down, and you may well find that your mother's wand is best suited for you, but it is much better to have your own wand," he explained, guiding them to the door.

"'Makers o'fine wands since 382 BC'," recited Tobias from the sign hanging above the door. "Yer sure they got t'process down? Seems like they migh' need s'more practice..." Dumbledore laughed, and even Severus grinned.

"Ah, Professor McGonagall! What a delight to see you here!" Dumbledore said jovially as he entered to see a tartan-clad, severe-looking witch with her black hair wound tightly into a bun. With her were two adults clad in Muggle attire, looking proud but thoroughly overwhelmed, a pale girl of perhaps fifteen with dark hair and a scowling face that could only kindly be described as equine, and a pretty, younger girl with flaming red hair and almond-shaped, emerald eyes, who could not possibly have a happier look on her face.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, what a pleasant surprise," the woman drawled in a deep Scottish brogue. "This is the Evans family...their daughters Petunia and Lily . . ."

Severus lost track of the conversation as the red-haired girl turned to him and smiled delightedly at him. "HI!" she chirped delightedly. "Are you going to go to Hogwarts this year?"

"Um . . . yes."

"I'm so sorry, I didn't get your name."

"Severus . . . Severus Snape, and you are Lily Evans?"

"Yeah, it's my first year at Hogwarts, so I just got my wand!" she chirped again, producing the wand as if he needed proof.

"It will be my first year at Hogwarts as well, so I too am here for my wand," Severus replied (stupidly, he thought to himself. Why else would he be in a wand shop?)

"Is that man your father? You look just like him!" Severus nodded. "Where's your mum?"

"She's dead," he replied dully.

"Oh no!" Lily said, whipping around and laying a compassionate hand on his shoulder, which Snape looked at in alarm. "I'm so sorry to hear that."

"It's all right . . . you didn't kill her," he replied.

"Who is that other man?"

"Albus Dumbledore...he used to teach Transfiguration, before Professor McGonagall did. He's Headmaster now."

"Wow," Lily replied, with a look of respect to her new friend. "And I thought I was special, given that I got a visit from the Deputy Headmistress. You warranted a visit from the Headmaster himself!"

Snape snorted. "Not for anything I did, I assure you. My great-great-grandfather was headmaster of Hogwarts, and apparently a friend of the Headmaster's. So it fell to him to deliver the message."

"Oh," Lily said, "Oh, no . . . my parents are leaving; I have to go. See you at school?"

"I look forward to it," Snape replied with a wistful look as she scampered after her parents and sister. His attention on the retreating girl, he missed his father's look of amusement entirely.

"How may I help you, young man?" said a grey-haired man with sharp silver eyes, stepping into Severus' field of vision, as the boy had been oblivious to his earlier requests.

Severus shook his head sharply as if to clear it and blinked several times to focus his eyes, coming to rest on the man's wizened face. Behind him, Tobias laughed silently, and Dumbledore looked on with a grin. "Oh. I, uh . . . I need a wand."

"Your mother was Eileen Prince, correct?" the man said, setting his magical tape measure to its task.

"Yes sir."

"Ah yes. 9 inches, hawthorn and unicorn hair. Let's see, here I have an ash and unicorn hair, 10 inches. Give it a wave."

Severus obligingly aimed the wand at a chair in the corner, intent on flipping it over. It burst into splinters. He scowled. The next wand he tried, he tried to sweep the resulting mess into a pile; instead, the shards flew directly at him. Dumbledore hastily cast a Protego to prevent the boy from becoming impaled. This went on in a similar vein for some time with Mister Ollivander finally frowning and bringing a wand out from under the counter. "Try this," he said. "Ebony and dragon heartstring, 13 and a quarter inches. Good for defence, dueling and . . . dark arts" he said with an almost inaudible whisper.

Severus reached forward to grasp the wand and immediately felt the difference. This wand vibrated in his hand. He gave it a short flick, and the splinters flew back into a fully formed chair, as if it were brand new. He turned to face his father and the headmaster with a triumphant smirk.

"That will be nine Galleons," Mister Ollivander intoned from behind the counter with an indecipherable look on his face. Tobias fished nine of the golden coins out of the money bag he was carrying and handed the other man the money.

"Now, I will show you the two entrances to Diagon Alley from the Muggle world," Dumbledore said as they exited the shop. He took them through a brick archway to the Leaky Cauldron. "There's also a Floo stop at Diagon Alley and at the Leaky Cauldron."

"No!" Severus said in alarm.

"No?" asked Dumbledore, confused.

"The Floo . . . anyone can get in, correct?"

Dumbledore frowned. "Generally, yes, but restricted ones are not unheard of."

"I don't want a Floo connection," Severus insisted. Dumbledore looked at Tobias, who just shrugged.

"Floo...tha's t'fire thing, righ'? T'Ministry took us off it after Eileen died...summat 'bout a security risk. But as I'm not goin' ter use it, do wha' he says."

"Very well. I think it will be better for you to have the Floo connection, Severus, because you will need to come back to London to take the school train."

"I'll get here some other way."

Dumbledore shrugged, but nodded.

Dumbledore showed them the exits, or more properly, entrances, to Diagon Alley from Muggle London...the one at the Leaky Cauldron as well as the one at the bank. "Now, Severus, the Hogwarts Express leaves from Kings Cross Station on September the first at eleven A.M. sharp. If you prefer to come to Diagon Alley first, as long as you are at the Leaky Cauldron by 10:00 A.M., the Knight Bus will bring you and any other students that arrive here to the station." Severus just nodded. "Now, before we go, I fancy an ice cream!" Dumbledore declared, heading back towards Fortescue's. They sat inside this time, following Severus to a corner table where he predictably took the corner seat, and Florean brought three sundaes for them. Severus eyed his warily, but, with a glance to both his father and the headmaster, dutifully began eating it. When he finished, he sat back, feeling distinctly queasy from the sugar overload, and fervently hoped they wouldn't be headed back to the bank, as he was quite certain he'd completely lose control of his stomach if they did.

Tobias raised a knowing eyebrow to his son, who returned his gaze frankly without the smallest shred of guilt. The older man snickered at his son. Dumbledore smiled genially at both of them, then waved Florean over. "Will you keep Severus company until I return?" Florean looked delighted and sat down to resume their earlier discussion, while Dumbledore waved his wand to shrink the purchases for the day, then took Tobias' arm and Disapparated with the man. When he returned, he asked covertly "is there anything else you would like to get while you are here, Severus?" The boy shook his head solemnly and rose, thanking Mister Fortescue formally for his hospitality. Turning to Dumbledore, he grabbed the older man's arm, and closed his eyes for the Disapparition.

When they arrived back in Yorkshire, Severus immediately glanced around, visually inspecting all the doors and windows in his immediate area. "Nothing is here, Severus, that should not be. Would you like me to reinforce your security for you?" Dumbledore asked kindly.

"Yes, please," the boy said simply, then watched intently as the old man performed the spells, committing them to memory. When the old man completed his intricate magic, he turned to the boy and his father.

"If you two won't be needing anything else, I will take my leave," he asked politely, then replied to their twin shaking heads, "Very well. I will see you on the first of September, Severus. Do you have any questions before I go?"

Severus shook his head, and in unison with his father, moved as if to walk the old man to the door. "Ah, that won't be necessary, I can leave from here," Dumbledore smiled. "Until we meet again, then!" he said and disappeared with a soft pop.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Jean helped me out of a bind with some major plotting here, as did Whitehound. Whitehound also gave a lot of effort to betaing this and general Yorkshire education. This chapter would be about a tenth of the quality without the two of them.

Kay went through and "Northern'd" the accent for me, and then Ellie went through and narrowed it down to Yorkshire! Someone send that poor woman some wood...they've been under so much rain lately that I fear she needs to build a boat!

Amsev deserves to be canonised for putting up with my complete lack of comma comprehension (which only gets worse the more I try to understand it). *facepalm*

I'm quite positive I'm forgetting someone...that's what I get for failing to take notes as they happen. *headdesk*