Thank you so much for the reviews! Here is chapter four - please enjoy :D

Diagon Alley had doubled its already bulging population by the time Snape and Lily spilled back out into it.

They began their hunt for school supplies with wands – it was always best to start there, if nothing else, at least you could make magic. That, and there was no way that either of them would be able to focus until they had one.

Shoe shop, thought Lily, upon entering Ollivanders. Every available wall (and ceiling) was covered by rows of rather ordinary looking boxes. Compared to the noise of the street outside, it was eerily silent inside the poorly lit shop. Nothing but a few straggly lanterns hung across the ceiling and their dreary glow was hardly sufficient to illuminate the deep, dark corners of the shop.

“Ribbet!”

Snape and Lily gasped in fright. Sitting on a pile of empty wand boxes beside them was an oversized toad keeping watch over the shop. It croaked again, unapologetically.

“Yes, yes, yes – my, my, my...” an old, crackled voice trailed off, far out of sight at the back of the shop. The wand boxes towering around Ollivander jiggled with excitement. One of them would be picked – one of them would be free.

“It’s,” started Lily, deciding whether or not it was safe to approach the frog, “cute – I guess.”

“Careful,” warned Snape, “it could be an Animagus – a wizard disguised as an animal.”

Lily frowned thoughtfully, “But what kind of a wizard would turn into a thing like that? Not very useful, is it?”

Snape was about to debate the issue when Ollivander stumbled in, buried under the weight of several dozen wand boxes which he deposited on the front counter. He waited for the young wizard and witch to approach. In all his long years selling wands, he had always found it best that way.

“Ex-excuse me, sir,” Snape approached the counter cautiously with Lily hopping up beside him. “Is this where we buy wands?”

The answer was obvious, but Ollivander smiled reassuringly, spread his arms and said, “But of course. I have been expecting you.”

‘Ex-pec-ting us?’ mouthed Lily.

“Mmm...” Ollivander thought, looking down at the wizard curiously. “You’ll be wanting one of the dark-woods, a rich mahogany perhaps...” he wandered off. There was a shuffling of boxes in the distance and a few more half-formed sentences before Ollivander returned with two wand boxes.

He placed them both in front of Severus and carefully removed their lids. Two chestnut red wands with perfectly straight forms gleamed in the low light.

“Go on,” Ollivander encouraged.

Snape stretched his fingers toward the first wand, inching closer and closer until they brushed over the smooth wood. Finally, he took it in his hand and lifted it from the box. It was solid, firm but for all intensive purposes – just a piece of wood.

Ollivander’s head fell to the side and a moment later he retrieved the wand from Snape and snatched both boxes away before Snape had the chance try the second one.

“Too young,” said Ollivander to himself, back up his ladder. “Much too young. You need something –” his pale, silvery eyes lingered on a dusty box in the far corner.

Ollivander was gone a long time.

“Is it always like this?” asked Lily. “I mean, can’t we just pick a wand we like the look of?”

“It doesn’t work that way,” replied Snape, made a little nervous by Ollivander’s long absence. “The wand chooses the wizard, not the other way around. We have to wait for the right wand.”

“Oh,” her voice fell even softer. “But what if a wand doesn’t choose me?” Her eyes were round and green, full of sincere worry. He didn’t answer her.

Ollivander returned nearly an hour later with only one box. It was a long, slender box made from a softly patterned wood rather than cardboard like the others. The seal on its front was not that of Ollivander’s wand makers, but a mostly-faded trio of circles that gently spun around each other.

“If you please, young sir,” Ollivander pushed the box toward Snape, not daring to open it. It was clear that he was deeply curious, on the cusp of a mystery that had haunted him.

Snape reached for the box and as he did, it rattled. Ollivander’s eyes brightened.

“Yes,” he whispered, “open it.”

Snape picked up the box in one hand and instantly felt its contents shuffle about restlessly inside. The wand was waking up from a long slumber and now it was ready to work. Like a creature, it grew restless.

Eventually Snape lifted the lid of the box to reveal an ominous 12 inch wand.

It was beautiful – ethereal and never quite there no matter how he turned his head. Snape took the wand and left the box on the counter. It shivered under his fingers, responding to the slow movements of his hand.

“I did not make this wand,” confessed Ollivander, as he watched the boy wrap his fingers around the ancient wood. “Agathis – nearly fifty-thousand years old. Buried, dug up and reformed long before our time. Until this moment, it has never shown a spark of life.”

The wand, whose grain appeared silken, like clouds captured in wood, made the air around its tip crackle when Snape gripped it tighter.

“I was beginning to think it nothing but a pretty stick,” Ollivander smiled, “and I regret that I cannot tell you anymore about this wand. It was made, if it was made, in a time of different magic. Indeed, it is entirely possible that it has a core of Hydra-heart or Nosferatu hair.” He lowered his eyes to the empty box, which he closed and moved to the side. “As such, I cannot tell you where its talents will lie.”

“He’ll take it,” said Lily with a grin, as Severus seemed to be completely enamoured with the wand and unable to converse. “How much?”

Ollivander backed away with his palms up as if freeing himself of something.

“No charge,” he insisted. “It is dangerous practice to sell a wand that is not yours. I have merely been its keeper.”

Snape finally came to his senses and tucked his new wand away inside his robes where it would be safe.

“Oh,” Ollivander snapped back into action, “I have your wand!” He ducked under the bench, snatched another box, and handed it to a surprised Lily.

“Willow,” he said proudly, “10¼ inches, nice and swishy. It will do you well for Charm work.”

The wand took to her immediately – to the misfortune of the shop. No sooner had she tried its ‘swish’ when all the boxes flew off their shelves, toppling to the ground around them in a great hail.

“Oh!” she squeaked in fright, horrified. “I’m sorry!”

Ollivander grinned, swiped his own wand over the room and restored order in a flash.

“Your wand is a little over excited – no matter.”

This time, he did charge for the wand and it was quite steep – almost a third of Lily’s purse gone in the first store.

Their books and robes, quills and cauldrons were found much faster. They each pulled a trolley now, no longer able to struggle with their bags as they headed back down Diagon Alley towards where they had started. There was only one item left on their list – an owl, and they knew just where to find it.

Lily was scurrying impossibly fast ahead of him, dragging her trolley dangerously behind her. Snape wanted to say, ‘wait – Lily!’ but she wouldn’t have been able to hear him over the crowd of wizards doing their best to leap out of her way.

By the time he caught up to her (after a mishap with a dwarf and a quick retrieval of his books), he found her waiting outside Eeylops Owl Emporium. They navigated their trolleys into the shop and left them along a bare wall.

Their air was full of soft, duffle feathers, wafting calmly around them – forever kicked up off the ground by shoppers’ feet. A small crowd of people hunted around the shop’s cages, tapping at their bars. There were not just owls inside but a whole range of magical creatures which were claimed to be trained to ‘carry messages anywhere’ and were of course, ‘reliable and reasonably priced’.

But there was only one owl that Lily could see and it was the most majestic creature in the room, happily preening itself on its gilded perch at the window.

The other customers gave it a wide birth – mostly because of the sign hanging beneath it that read;

‘ATTENTION ALL CUSTOMERS – OWL NOT FOR SALE. KNOWN TO PECK SHARPLY IF APPROACHED. DO NOT TOUCH!’

Do not touch – a warning that Lily had never quite gotten the hang of.

She stepped toward the creature slowly, whispering to it. Its crimson feathers ruffled, revealing their golden tips and for a few moments it looked a bit like a pom-pom. The owl seemed as interested in the young witch as she was in it, and allowed her to reach out and gently stroke its head.

Lily’s fingers slipped in between its soft feathers and the owl leant in toward her, trying to get her to scratch a little harder.

Snape wasn’t game to get any closer to the pair. While it was friendly enough toward Lily, it shot warning glares with its enormous eyes to anyone else that so much looked at it.

Suddenly, a small, stout sort of a man in overly long black robes raced across the room, scattering the crowd in his shop.

“You mustn’ touch!” he shouted, nearly toppling another wizard balancing a falcon on his arm. “Musn’ touch!” he cried again, taking hold of Lily and pulling her roughly back. She nearly fell.

“Hey!” Snape ran over to assist, but Lily easily wriggled out of the man’s hold.

“Very dangerous,” he continued. A silver plaque glued onto his robes read, ‘Assistant Manager’. “Mustn’ touch that owl,” he kept repeating, as if it were the most important instruction ever given to him.

Snape could see why. The owl, no longer looking friendly, had a sharp flicker of green its eyes that wasn’t there before. If possible, it was taller having straightened up to its full height of nearly three feet.

“Will rip you three ways apart,” continued the assistant manager, clearly terrified of the owl. There were nasty scratches across his forehead and neck, possibly from the same owl which was inspecting the assistant manager as if it held a grudge.

“Does it take mail?” asked Lily calmly, grinning at the owl.

The assistant manager was taken off guard.

“Uh – uh – I – it should, I mean, it’s trained – but...”

“I would like to buy this owl,” she said simply, moving to pat it again but this time it was Snape that caught her jacket.

“Lily...” he cautioned. “It looks dangerous.”

“Not for sale,” the assistant manager swallowed, perplexed by the idea of anybody wanting such a horrid creature. Then he pointed at the sign.

“But if it was for sale,” she continued, “how much would it cost?”

“Twelve galleons but –” he hadn’t meant to say that, “not for sale, too dangerous,” he repeated. “There’s a lovely owl over here, same colour, bit smaller, eleven galleons-”

Lily cut him off, “I want this owl.”

“I-” he protested.

“Yes?” she insisted.

“But...”

“Give me the owl...” she demanded.

“Not ‘supposed to-”

“Thirteen galleons...”

“I-” the wizard seemed to consider this, glancing back at the horrible owl that had been nothing but trouble since its previous owner threw it back into their shop in disgust. It would be good to be rid of it. “Fine...” he finally agreed. “If you can carry it, you can buy it for thirteen galleons.”

Snape let Lily’s coat slip through his fingers as she returned to the owl which seemed perfectly happy to let her stroke its feathers. She extended her arm and whispered to it again. Dutifully, the enormous owl hopped onto her arm, carful to keep its sharp claws in check.

The whole shop was watching now, following her as she paraded the owl through the room toward the counter where the witch that had fixed the window waited. The people at the counter scattered.

“Thirteen galleons,” said the witch, extending her hand into which Lily emptied her purse.

Lily’s face fell in dismay. She was short – two galleons.

The witch behind the counter raised her eyebrow at the pitiful pile of sickles and knuts that simply refused to add up to two galleons no matter how many times Lily counted them.

“Here...” whispered Snape, handing her two shiny gold coins from his pocket. His last galleons. Lily frowned at him.

“That’s all you have,” she said, “what about your owl?”

“My parents will lend me theirs,” he lied quickly. “Go on, I think it might kill everyone in the shop if you don’t buy it.”

The owl blinked in the affirmative.

“Well,” said Lily slowly, “if you’re sure...”

A short time later, they returned to the place where Professor Dumbledore had left them. They felt a bit silly, standing their ground in a random spot, apparently in the way of everybody else. The owl, still on Lily’s arm, spread its wings and knocked a few teenagers over in the process.

“I think Merlin likes being out,” she stroked it again. Snape was still terrified of the creature.

“You’re really going to call it Merlin?” he inquired, eyeing the owl. It didn’t look one bit like the pictures he’d seen of the great wizard.

“Yes,” she said simply. “I am. Finally-” Lily pointed at Dumbledore, working his way toward them. “I thought he had forgotten about us. Mum’ll be worried, we’ve been gone for ages.”

They had, it was almost dark. A sinking feeling crept over Snape – he had been dreading this moment all day.

Dumbledore looked positively odd – more so than usual. One side of his hair was now shorter – singed off at an angle accompanied by several burn marks on his robes. Still, it hadn’t affected his mood. He was as aloof as ever.

“Well done!” he exclaimed, seeing their haul of things. “All set then. Fine creature,” he commented, spying her owl. Dumbledore instantly went to stroke it but the owl retaliated, wasting no time stabbing the professor’s finger with its sharp beak. It drew blood but didn’t damage Dumbledore’s opinion of it, “Excellent!”

Dumbledore returned them to Spinner’s End, starting with Lily.

“That was wonderful,” she said, heading toward her front door with her trolley and owl. “I can’t believe school starts tomorrow!”

Snape waved as her door closed and she disappeared into the house.

“Now, for you,” Dumbledore turned to the small, dark haired boy.

“Sir...” Snape said quietly, “I don’t-”

“Have an owl, yes,” he pulled a wand from his robe, “it had caught my attention.”

Dumbledore pointed to the window on the top level of Lily’s house. Snape narrowed his eyes and quickly saw a small scruff of feathers launching itself at the window from the inside – trying but failing to escape from Lily’s room. Dumbledore flicked his wand and said, ‘Alohomora’.

The window clicked and slid open, freeing the creature which launched itself into the air and half-flew, half-fell to the ground beside Dumbledore and Snape.

“Mr Snape,” said Dumbledore, “meet my owl. He was kind enough to deliver a letter to your friend yesterday. As it happens, my need of his assistance has come to an end, therefore, from now on, he is yours.”

Snape’s eyes widened. The headmaster’s owl?

The owl seemed to understand and took to hopping along the ground beside the young boy.

“Now,” continued Dumbledore importantly, “the train leaves tomorrow. I have arranged with Mrs Evans for her to take you there with Lily early in the morning.”

Snape didn’t ask how Dumbledore had known that he couldn’t get to London.

“And now I bid you goodnight,” said the professor finally. “And welcome to Hogwarts.”

In a puff of smoke, he was gone and Snape was left all alone outside Lily’s house. He fought to hold a sob down – he could not go home again, not for a long time.