Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter and I doubt I will/

Severus Snape couldn't believe he as given the task of reintroducing Harry to the wizarding world he acted reluctant to agree but inside he was glad it was the perfect opportunity to get closer to Harry.

As Harry was serving his relatives, a loud knock sounded at the front door. Harry was sent, pan and all, to answer the door. He found a tall, severe looking man on the other side of the door. Black robes billowed around him. His still, pale face was surrounded by long, black hair. Glittering obsidian eyes took in Harry's disheveled appearance.

"Harry Potter. I am Professor Severus Snape, Master of Potions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Severus noticed Harry was quite small for his age.

"Professor can we leave now?"

"Of course" Snape answered

Severus took Harry to Gringotts first.

"Hello, I'm Harry Potter, may I speak to Ragnok please?" he asked politely.

"Of course, follow me".

Harry was led by Griphook to Ragnok's office.

"Hello Ragnok, I'm here to claim my inheritance and transfer the money in my trust fund to the Evans vault"

When Harry returned he looked different. His cheekbone were more refined, he was several inches taller, his hair was more tame, he had gained a more aristocratic look.

There was no doubt that he would be popular with the girls.

Their first stop was Flourish & Blotts to purchase the more mundane things: parchment, ink, quite a number of textbooks, and a standard pewter cauldron.

"Hogwarts, dears?" a squat, smiling witch who he presumed was Madam Malkin asked him as he stepped in. "We've got everything here- there's another young man being fitted up just now, but we can attend to you both as well easily enough."

Harry was guided to the back of the shop, where a boy with almost platinum-coloured hair and a pale, pointed face was also getting his robes done. Harry was positioned on a stool near the boy as Madam Malkin and one of her helpers slipped long black robes over them and began to pin them to the right lengths.

"Hello," the boy said, nodding at him briefly. "Hogwarts as well?"

"Yeah," Harry said dismissively.

"My parents are just picking up some essentials and then I'll be dragging them over to look at brooms," the boy explained. "It's totally unfair that first years aren't allowed their own; I think I'll persuade my father to get me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

"Have you got your own brooms?" the boy asked.

Harry shrugged. "Not really I haven't been in the wizarding world in six year, I lived with muggles" he said dismissively

"Oh, sorry, living with muggles must've terrible" the boy said, without sounding sorry at all. "But your parents are our kind, right?"

"A witch and a wizard, if you mean that," Harry said,

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're not the same, they haven't been raised to know our ways; some of them haven't even heard of Hogwarts before receiving the letter. They really should just keep it in the old wizarding families…."

Harry thought about his answer "I really don't care about blood status as long as the wizard or witch is strong and powerful, their blood doesn't matter" he replied smoothly.

"What House do you think you'll be in?"

Harry shrugged.

"Well, no one knows till they get there, really. I bet I'm in Slytherin – my whole family's been. Imagine if you got Hufflepuff…"

"Yeh," said Harry, "imagine. I'll probably be in slytherin"

"Who're your parents?"

He was about to answer when Madam Malkin returned and said to the boy, "That's you done, my dear."

"See you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the boy as he left. Harry smiled in response

After a short walk, Harry was standing outside a narrow, shabby shop which, according to the peeling gold lettering above it, was 'Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.'

The inside of the shop was even smaller, consisting of only a small patch of empty floor while the surrounding walls were covered in various long thin boxes that must hold the wands in question. Besides a small chair near a window, the only furniture in the room was a desk, where an old man with slightly curly white hair and gleaming eyes stood, looking at them.

"Good afternoon, Ah yes," the man said, nodding as he looked at Harry. "Harry Potter. I was wondering when I would be seeing you. It seems merely a day ago when your parents were in here buying their first wands.

Your mother, ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Delightful wand for charms work, it was. And so was she. By contrast, your father favoured an eleven inch mahogany wand, quite pliable, more powerful than your mother's and excellent for transfiguration, as he himself was. Well, I say your father favoured it… it's the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Let me see. Ah, yes. Try this one." Mr. Ollivander handed Harry a wand. "Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just give it a wave."

Harry waved it around but Mr. Ollivander snatched it back.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try-"Harry tried – but had the wand snatched out of his hand before he could fully raise it.

"No… Ah, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Try it out."

Harry waved again and again and again.

"I wonder – perhaps – yes – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Mr. Ollivander handed Harry the wand, who waved it lazily. A shower of silver and red sparks shot out of the wand. Mr. Ollivander seemed delighted.

"Very good. Very, very good. Yet very curious…"

Harry looked up from the wand in his hand and asked, "What's curious?"

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather – just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand with its brother – why, its brother gave your twin his scar."

Harry blinked. His wand? Brother to Voldemort's wand?

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember…I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter…After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great."