A Year Like None Other

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, or this fictional universe. JK Rowling, some publishers, and some film companies own everything. I'm not making anything from this except a hobby.

Summary: A letter from home sends Harry down a path he'd never have walked on his own. A sixth year fic, this story follows Order of the Phoenix and disregards any canon events that occur after Book 5. Spoilers for the first five books. Have fun!

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A Year Like None Other

by Aspen in the Sunlight

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Chapter Forty-Four: Formalities

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Snape was shaking his head almost before the casewitch had finished uttering her asinine little suggestion. "Adopt them both," he dryly echoed, managing to make the notion sound positively irrational. "Out of the question."

"May I ask why?"

"To begin with, Draco Malfoy is a proud and intelligent young man. He will not appreciate being an afterthought, I quite assure you."

The casewitch spread her hands on the desk as she pondered that.

"Moreover, there are serious practical considerations," Snape continued, his voice taking on rather a sardonic note. Harry got the feeling that Snape thought the casewitch should have considered a few more things before opening her big, fat mouth. "Because Draco came of age early, he is now in nominal control of a large fortune previously held in trust for him. If he reverts to minor status now, Lucius Malfoy will petition for the funds to be returned to the estate proper. Need I mention that in that case, Draco will never see another Galleon from the vault that is supposed to be his and his alone?"

"Surely the younger Mr Malfoy could withdraw all his money beforehand?"

Snape shook his head. "Nominal control," he repeated. "His access to the funds is limited in several ways until such time as he marries and produces a 'worthy' heir."

"Worthy?"

"Pure-blooded and not a squib."

"Ah." Amaelia Thistlethorne sighed. "Well, that is a problem. Depriving him of his remaining inheritance is bound to exacerbate the emotional burden he already bears from having been disowned."

"It is not merely an emotional issue," Snape said, his voice going flat. "It is political. Draco has been taught since birth that money is power, and power is all that matters."

"Mmm. You've given this some prior thought."

Snape's dark eyes glimmered. "Evidently."

"So Mr Malfoy would not be an afterthought," she said on a note of triumph.

"What matters is not what he is, but rather what he thinks he is." Snape neatly dodged the question. "It is also not lost on me that there is little to be gained from enraging Lucius Malfoy further. To release Draco from his control was offence enough."

The casewitch frowned, the desk chair squeaking as she shifted her weight. "But Mr Malfoy has already sworn to kill the boy. It was on this basis that we emancipated him, so that he could stay here in safety even in the face of his father's objection. How much more enraged could he get?"

Even Harry knew what a stupid question that was. He had to really admire Snape's ability to reply to the question with a marked lack of sarcasm. Normally, the Potions Master would cut a strip off anyone speaking so brainlessly to him... But Snape was nothing if not Slytherin to the bone. He wasn't about to offend the casewitch, whose approval was so vital to getting this adoption put through.

The idea made Harry sort of glow warm inside.

Of course, that might be mostly due to the trend of the conversation. Harry could tell already that no matter how much the interfering old biddy tried to insist, Snape was not about to adopt anybody but him.

Just. Him.

He felt like shouting, So there!

"I do not dispute that Lucius wishes to kill Draco," Snape was replying. "At the moment, however, his primary motive for so doing is to restore himself in the eyes of Voldemort. Draco has defied his Death Eater heritage to provide significant assistance to Harry, you see, therefore Lucius himself has fallen under suspicion. He hopes to allay this by sacrificing his son. However, if Lucius learns that I have taken for my own that which he believes is his, his desire to see the both of us slain will increase a hundredfold. Do you really think that the worst Lucius Malfoy can do is enlist Horace Darswaithe to infiltrate my quarters?"

"I see your point," Thistlethorne admitted at last. "A pity. I happen to think the young man could benefit from a more formalized relationship."

Snape gave a sharp nod. "I will still be here to guide and counsel him. I am, after all, his Head of House and an old friend of the family. It is my full intention to do all I can to assist Draco."

Harry felt like he'd been watching a tennis match or something, and that Snape had finally won. He'd been holding his breath without realizing; now, he let all that air out in a whoosh. Snape gave him a derisive glance, which Harry tried to counter with an innocent look. He could tell it wasn't working. Snape knew what he'd been thinking, that he really really didn't want Draco adopted alongside him.

Well, that obviously wasn't going to happen, crazy brothers-dream or not.

So what was that dream about, then?

Had he managed to change the future, and set them all on a different timeline? There was that day when he'd really wanted to punch Ron's smirking face... but Harry had resisted. For all he knew, that that one decision had changed everything that followed. Maybe, there'd be no punching-Ron, ever, and no brothers-with-Malfoy idiocy to worry about.

Maybe, Divination was just as big a crock as he'd always thought, and his so-called seer dreams--some of them, at least--were just complete malarkey.

Harry smiled.

Snape's black eyes narrowed.

Harry shrugged.

Snape's nostrils flared before he looked away.

The casewitch had gone back to her forms for a moment. Now, she signed one with a flourish and announced, "My recommendation that this adoption be approved. Now, the two of you will need to provide signatures. Then, after the documents have been granted final sanction and recordation by Wizard Family Services, you will officially become a family."

She offered a quill to Snape, who ignored it to turn to Harry. "This is a magically binding contract we are about to sign. Do you understand the implications of that?"

"Well, yeah," Harry drawled, a little bit affronted. "I might have grown up in a Muggle home but I have been paying attention the last five years or so. It means it's a serious thing, me becoming your... er, adoptee."

"Adoptee?" Snape echoed, rolling his eyes.

"Give him time," the casewitch gently advised.

"Anyway," Harry rushed past that, feeling really bad. Adoptee... where had that come from? "I don't have any magic to bind, so that's sort of a problem, isn't it?"

"You have magic to bind."

He probably meant Parseltongue, Harry figured. Just as well not to remind the casewitch about it, as she hadn't seemed to like it any too well. Too Voldemortish, probably, not that Harry could help it. He couldn't even control it, for Merlin's sake. Put him face to face with a snake and it just came out. "So where do I sign?"

Snape took the parchment Thistlethorne extended and passed it to Harry, though he didn't give him a quill. Harry shrugged and reached over to the desk for one, only to be brought up short by a drawled, "I recommend you read it before you commit yourself."

Harry took Snape's advice, though it was a bit difficult to concentrate through the feeling of incredible stupidity swamping him. Sometimes he felt like he was six. He did know better than to sign contracts without reading them, though who would believe that now? He glanced up, expecting to see Snape's eyes mocking him, but the man was simply reading another copy of the contract.

All in all, there wasn't that much to the legal document, though it was very long. It seemed to Harry that it used an awful lot of words to convey just a few ideas.

Most of the contract seemed perfectly reasonable to Harry. Basically, Snape was agreeing to take care of him and Harry was agreeing to let him, including acknowledging that Snape would have a parent's rights over him and could direct his education and things like that. Since Harry trusted Snape, none of that gave him any cause for concern.

He was a little uncomfortable, however, when he ran across the phrase right of inheritance. It reminded him of Snape's face in the mirror. He didn't want to end up getting Snape killed, and the idea of inheriting all Snape's money afterwards made him feel faintly ill. It didn't help that precisely that sequence of events had happened with Sirius. Not for the first time, Harry wondered what he should do about the Black vault and 12 Grimmauld Place.

Pushing that thought away, Harry kept on reading. "What's right of abode?" he asked a few moments later.

"It means you're entitled to live wherever I reside," Snape answered, his voice rather distracted.

Forgetting the casewitch completely, Harry blurted, "Don't you always reside right here?"

Snape glanced up, his black eyes amused. "I do have a life outside Hogwarts."

"Oh, okay," Harry murmured, feeling even stupider than before. He put his contract down on his legs and took up his tea again, though by then it was completely cool.

"Have you any other questions?" Snape asked, drawing a quill from his robes.

"I don't think so, no..."

Looking closely at Harry, Snape extended the quill. "Are you quite certain?"

Harry might not pick up on every nuance in Snape's speech, but he couldn't miss the double meaning in that inquiry. Snape wasn't just asking if Harry's questions had been exhausted. He wanted to know if Harry was ready--really, truly ready--to be adopted.

All at once, Harry felt just awful about his reaction to the whole Draco thing. He didn't want the Slytherin boy for a brother, but now that that issue had been dealt with, he could see that it had been a bit childish to sit there fuming that he might have to share.

He would want to be adopted, he suddenly realised, even if Snape had decided to extend a similar offer to Draco. Or, Merlin forbid, even if he still did decide that. It could still happen, right? Snape could figure out some way around the money thing. Or Lucius could be given the Dementor's kiss--unlikely as that was when the man practically owned the Ministry. The obstacles could vanish; that was the point. And where would Harry be, then? He'd be brothers with Malfoy, just as the dream had foretold.

And the simple truth was, if he couldn't stomach that, he had no business agreeing to this.

But he wanted to agree to this, he realised, even if later, he ended up stuck being brothers with Malfoy.

"Yes, I'm quite certain," he calmly answered, though he was aware Snape had raised an eyebrow at his long silence. For all his confident words, his hand was shaking a little bit as he reached out for the quill Snape was still holding out.

His teacher's fingers brushed his, the touch imparting encouragement for all its lightness.

"Sign here," the casewitch instructed, pointing a stubby finger at a line near the bottom of the parchment.

Harry did, jerking a bit in surprise when he noticed Snape's own signature magically appear above his own. He glanced at the papers scattered across the desk and saw it happening everywhere. "My own signature didn't transfer," he pointed out when he had finished writing his full name.

"The parchment must be spelled to interact with Light Magic," Snape murmured. "It's all right. Just sign each by hand."

There turned out to be nineteen copies, which struck Harry as a ridiculously excessive number.

The casewitch performed a drying spell on them, then summoned all but two of them into a dragonhide case. "These interim copies are yours," she explained. "When the adoption becomes official, you will know it, as the Wizard Family Services seal will appear over your signatures."

"And that will happen when?" Snape inquired.

"Should be tomorrow," Harry volunteered. "I... um, I already asked."

He liked it that Snape looked sort of pleased by that.

The casewitch, however, held up a cautioning hand. "I said tomorrow was likely. At any rate, you will be provided with an additional official copy, embossed and suitable for framing, shortly after Wizard Family Services grants final approval."

"That will be very much appreciated, Miss Thistlethorne," Snape politely concurred as got up to place his copy of the contract in a desk drawer. "Does that conclude your business here?"

Talk about decorum, Harry thought. Snape knew how to tell her to get out without it coming across rude at all. Well, he'd seen way back with Mrs. Figg that Snape did know how to be polite, when he wanted. He just usually didn't bother.

Taking the hint, Amaelia Thistlethorne stood up. "Do be careful of Mr Malfoy's feelings," she thought to warn them. "However good the reasons for proceeding as you have, his little chat with me clearly indicates that he's bound to feel somewhat rejected by this turn of events."

Snape inclined his head in answer, and walked the casewitch to the Floo.

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"So, is it done?" Draco asked with what seemed like forced brightness when Harry went back into their room. All the Herbology stuff was put away, Harry noticed, but before he could comment, Draco was saying, "You're a Snape?"

"I'm not changing my name."

"I meant metaphorically, of course," Draco said with a slightly haughty air.

"It's supposed to be official tomorrow," Harry said, feeling like he was walking on eggshells. He wanted to ask if Draco was all right, but decided the question was too intrusive and that Draco wouldn't answer honestly, anyway. He'd pretend everything was perfectly fine, because any other answer might cost Slytherin a hundred points. That really was a lot of pressure, Harry realised, frowning. And if Draco was really trying to recruit Slytherin to fight Voldemort, he couldn't afford to upset his house.... oh, shite. In that case, it was a tonne of pressure.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, pointing that Harry should sit on the other bed, facing him.

"Oh, nothing," Harry denied, though he did sit down.

"You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

"No."

Draco curled a lip. "Oh, I know what it is. Not too surprising you'd be a bit squeamish, really."

"Snape does not make me squeamish!" Harry objected. "I like him!"

Draco laughed, the sound darkly amused. "Oh, that's fairly obvious, surreal though it still seems to me. I just thought you must be uncomfortable about your change of house, actually."

"Huh?"

"Severus said he told you," Draco commented, grinning like he was savouring something tasty. "Your house, Harry. There's an old rule here, goes back to the 1400's or something, that if a professor's child is in residence, he's automatically a member of the teacher's house in addition to his own, assuming they're different. It has to do with not undermining parental authority, you know, so you can't tick off Severus and then skip off claiming that only McGonagall's allowed to do anything to you. Didn't Severus mention it?"

Harry felt a bit frozen with shock, but had to own, "Um, yeah. Actually, he did. Sort of in passing. At the time I was worried about filling out my forms... I wasn't really listening."

"I'd think five years in Severus' classes would have taught you better than that. He doesn't talk just to fill the air." A strange smile hovering on his lips, Draco probed, "Are you all right with it? Being a Slytherin, too? Being known as one?"

"Guess I have to be," Harry lightly passed it off. Since the truth was that he'd have been in Slytherin all along if he hadn't insisted otherwise, he couldn't get all that upset. And he couldn't claim that Snape hadn't warned him, could he? "You thought I'd be upset?"

"I thought you'd be mortified."

"Nope," Harry said, hesitating to comment further. Some impulse inside him kept insisting, though. Draco had done a lot for him, after all. Returned his wand... tutored him endlessly... And despite his jealousy, the Slytherin boy hadn't used his own interview to derail the adoption. Of course, he'd done some of that more for Snape than for Harry, but still, what had Harry ever done in return?

Not much.

So he had to tell him, he just had to. Because, the tiniest little part of him was starting to trust Draco, even if Harry just knew there was something he'd missed about the Slytherin boy's big conversion to the Light.

"It's like this," Harry finally ventured, blushing a little bit. "The... er, Sorting Hat sort of wanted to put me in Slytherin to start with."

"Sort of wanted?"

"Well, it was more like the Hat was trying to talk me into it."

Draco blew out a long breath. "Well, that's interesting. It can only mean that you are a bit Slytherin at heart. How'd you end up in Gryffindor, then? I mean, the Hat's not really supposed to let you pick or anything."

"I just kept thinking... well, actually saying too, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin until it gave in."

"Oh, very flattering," Draco drawled. "Though I suppose you'd heard the Dark Lord had been sorted there, so it stands to reason you wouldn't want--" He stopped when he saw Harry shaking his head.

"I wasn't thinking of Voldemort. You'd already been sorted; that was the problem."

"Oh, very flattering," was Draco's reply to that. He didn't appear to take great offence, however. "Does Severus know about all this?"

"Yeah, he said I should have let the Hat do its job."

"Though if you had," Draco pointed out, chuckling, "I'm sure you'd never have lived down all that Heir of Slytherin stuff you got sort of painted with."

"Ron and Hermione and I all thought you were the heir," Harry admitted.

"Oh, now isn't that sweet considering it turned out to be some half-blooded maniac who was opening the Chamber."

"Again with the blood, Draco?" Harry sighed.

"No, that isn't what I meant. It's just that Salazar was big on pure-bloodedness, right? So it's idiotic to think that er... Riddle, could be his so-called true heir. He wouldn't even qualify to attend here, not if Salazar had had his way." Draco gave Harry an assessing look. "So you're a Slytherin too, and not just in name... Well, Slytherin's current attitude to me notwithstanding, we tend to really stick together. Usually, that is."

"You're saying you'll stick by me?"

"Shite, Harry, I've been saying that for weeks. This adoption deal, though..." Again, that strange half-grin curled his features. "I guess it makes us brothers, huh?"

Harry stared at Draco as the whole world flipped upside down and began spinning. He laughed, good humour chasing all his worries away as the most profound sensation of relief swept straight through him like a cleaning breeze. All that anxiety, he thought, chortling, and the dream didn't even mean what I assumed! What made me think that 'brothers' only had one meaning?The dream was true, true all along, but it's no big deal, it's no problem at all...

Clapping a hand over his mouth, Harry practically screamed with laughter.

Draco appeared puzzled, if anything. "I know the other houses are a little bit odd by our standards," he ventured, "but don't you Gryffindors regard yourselves as a brotherhood?"

Harry tried to get himself under control. "Uh, yeah, sort of, I guess," he managed between chuckles. "Never heard anyone use that word, though." Another fit of laughter had him collapsing to his side on the bed. "You know what? We're half-brothers! 'Cause I'm only half-Slytherin! Or maybe we're st- stepbrothers," he gasped. "'Cause I'm joining the, uh, family 'bout five years late--"

And then the laughter shook the foundation of his soul, the sensation veering on hysteria as inside his mind, the words merrily trilled, Snape's not going to adopt Draco, Snape's never going to adopt Draco, we'll never ever ever be brothers! Snape's going to be my guardian, not his, I won't have to share, never ever ever!

It was like a bad dream had suddenly faded completely from view.

Which, of course, it had.

"Harry, you forgot your-- Merlin, what is going on in here?" Snape's sharp voice inquired.

Shakily pushing himself back into an upright sitting position, Harry saw his teacher standing in the doorway, a copy of the contract in his hand. He tried to talk, to explain, but too much humour was still bubbling up inside his throat.

"He thinks being in Slytherin as well as Gryffindor is bloody hilarious," Draco announced, snorting.

"What's funny about it?" Snape challenged, his voice edged with offence.

That quieted Harry's laughter, although not for long. "Um, I was just imagining wearing maroon and silver and gold and green all at once," he hastily invented. The story spilled past its boundaries before he could stop it. "See, I thought Dobby could maybe cobble scarves together for me, oh, and I'd have to wear mismatched socks, and maybe I could split a couple of ties up the centre and glue both halves together--"

"Just add a snake to the crest on your cloak and be done with it!" Draco erupted. "There's no need to go around looking all stupid, Potter!"

"Ten points from Slytherin," Snape sighed, waving his wand. "Really, I thought you two were past this squabbling."

"Malfoy just doesn't like my fashion sense," Harry returned, throwing out the name deliberately to see what would happen.

"And ten from Gryffindor," Snape added, with another flick of his wand. Then his face went still, as though he was listening to something far, far away. He closed his eyes in concentration. "The counters," he groaned. "I hadn't realised."

"What?" Harry prompted, though he had a suspicion he might know, already.

Snape glared at him. "They took ten from Slytherin. And then, they took five each from Gryffindor and Slytherin because they knew I'd docked points on your account."

Harry burst out laughing again. He'd wondered what this be-in-two-houses arrangement would do to the point counters. Now, he knew.

"It's not funny!" Draco objected. "And why would that happen, anyway? The adoption's not official until tomorrow, Harry said!"

"I signed a magically binding contract," Snape announced. "I don't need some Ministry adjunct to make things official in my mind. That's why." He handed Harry his copy of the contract. "Put that somewhere safe. After the seal's appeared, you should safeguard it in your vault."

Still outraged, Draco complained, "If we fight and you dock us both like usual, it'll sink Slytherin through the floor, and hardly even dent Gryffindor! Harry here could sabotage the whole house system!"

Snape barely spared a glance for Harry. "He could, but he won't."

"Why wouldn't he?" Draco demanded, baring his teeth.

"Because he's a Gryffindor, too," Snape announced, and not in tones of disdain. Harry liked that. "Harry. Given how the house counters have just behaved, I think the warding spells will take root, now. We will perform them tonight. Would you let your cousin know?" His sneering expression said more clearly than words that he did not particularly care to have the Muggle boy asleep on his couch in the middle of the afternoon.

"Okay, sure," Harry said, smoothing out the adoption contract and looking at it.

Draco shifted restlessly on his feet, then suddenly bolted from the room, calling back that he had a Potion to finish.

"And there I thought he was so caught up in this mysterious Herbology project," Harry lightly joked. "He doesn't have a Potion brewing. If he did, you'd be starting in on a lecture about not leaving it unattended."

"He obviously wishes some time alone," Snape pointed out, his black gaze narrowing on Harry. "I may not have agreed with Thistlethorne's remedy, but her analysis of the situation was not to be faulted." His gaze fell on the adoption contract. "Don't flaunt that. Put it away as I said."

"I wanted to wait to see the seal appear--"

"Put it away."

Harry nodded. "Yes, sir."

Snape looked like he might say something more, but in the end, he merely muttered that he had work to do in his classroom, and swept out the door.

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"Your friends came by," Dudley mentioned over dinner. "The red-headed boy was really angry that Draco wouldn't let him see you."

"You and Severus were in with the casewitch," Draco calmly explained, elegantly spearing a butterflied shrimp. "I thought better than to interrupt."

Harry couldn't argue with that. "So, Ron and who else?"

"Granger, Longbottom, and one of the Patil girls; I've no idea which."

"Okay, I'll owl them," Harry decided.

"Going to tell them all about recent developments?" Draco inquired, silver eyes cool as they studied Harry.

"Yes, of course!" Harry snapped, but at a glare from Snape, added in a more neutral tone, "Not in a letter, though, I don't think. Ah... what did you tell them?"

"That you were busy," Draco drawled.

"Too busy to see them," Dudley added. "The red-haired boy didn't believe that, though. He called Draco a lying snake. Then the bushy-haired girl told him to calm down, and the other girl tried to step across the threshold and got a nasty shock and said she knew they shouldn't try to visit Harry here, and couldn't he come eat in the Great Hall or something, and then Draco said she was stupid to try to enter without being invited in, and didn't she think that a teacher would know how to ward his own quarters--"

"Thanks, Dudley," Harry cut him off. Snape was glowering already, and rather than add to the negative mood by rounding on Draco, Harry decided to just let the matter go. They were going to redo the warding spells after dinner, after all. It was better for Snape to be calm. Or at least Harry figured that was probably true; he didn't really know.

Hmm, maybe that was why his own magic wasn't working? Because every time he tried a spell he felt frantic inside, worried that it might not work, anxious that he'd never get his powers back?

Later that evening, Harry wasn't sure just how calm Snape might be, but the warding spells worked as expected. His teacher knelt, calling forth all his powers to hold the spells in place, and Dudley vowed he would willingly give his blood to protect Harry. And this time, when Dudley's blood dripped down into the glowing silvery-gold orb Snape held aloft, the spells caught it and bonded it to the very fabric of the magic.

The orb turned swirling crimson, and then began to shimmer a dark, iridescent green. And then it exploded, spraying outward to coat the walls, floor, and ceiling anew, the spells reaching into every room, even flowing into the Floo and up the chimney past Harry's line of sight.

Snape rose shakily to his feet, and staggered slightly, but this time, he wasn't cursing. He looked satisfied. "It's done," he said, before making his way to a chair and all but collapsing.

"Is it ever," Draco murmured in wonder, glancing about before he turned to eye Harry. "Very Slytherin colour."

"It's the colour of my mother's love," Harry realised, remembering what Snape had said before. But why was his mother's love that particular shade of green? Harry didn't think it had to do with her eyes. As far as Harry was concerned, the walls were tinted Avada Kedavra green, because the essence of his mother's love had been to take the curse for him. To die, for him.

It wasn't a colour he much liked looking at, all things told.

"Could somebody please heal Dudley?" he asked to get his mind off it.

"Severus, you're drained," Draco said when Snape made a motion as though to get up and do it. "I'll take care of it." One quick flick of his wand and a simple incantation had the cut vanishing from the Muggle boy's hand.

Two fat tears rolled down Dudley's quivering jowls. "I... I wish you could have helped Mum like that, you know. Dad and I thought it would be so s-- s-- simple..."

"Oh, Dudley..." Harry couldn't help it. He wrapped his arms around his crying cousin and pulled him close. This time, he didn't feel the phantom needles haunting him; he just felt sad for Dudley.

"I'll miss you a bunch," Dudley admitted when they pulled apart. "Strange, huh? We grew up together, all those years, but it's only now I feel like I've ever gotten to know you."

Harry could have told him that it was hard to get to know someone when you were punching them, chasing them, or sitting on top of them. "You'll see me again," he promised.

Dudley swallowed. "Uh, well now that you've got a real wizard to live with, I'm not sure how often you'll end up visiting the er... Muggle world. When will I see you?"

Harry hardly knew what to say, as it wasn't up to him. He looked expectantly towards Snape, who had his eyes closed, though he was clearly listening, as he said, "Summer, if his magic is back under his control. If it's not, well, we'll arrange something."

"Thanks," Dudley said.

"It is I who should be thanking you," Snape corrected, rising to his feet. "For helping me safeguard Harry, you have my most profound thanks. Now, if you will excuse me, I must sleep and recover. In the morning, the headmaster will help you return to your aunt's house..." Snape's voice began to waver, his words a bit rambling as he went on, "Remember to return the ring to Albus Dumbledore before you part ways..."

He swayed, and Draco caught him under the elbow, saying, "Come on, Severus," as he led him down the hall to his bedroom. The wards flickered slightly as Draco's arm entered the room to gently nudge Snape inside towards the bed.

"Do you trust Severus' spell casting?" Draco questioned when he returned.

"Well, yes," Harry replied, mystified. "Of course I do."

"Good. I want to show you something." Draco strode to the door. "Abrire."

"What are you doing?" Harry cried. "You can't go out!"

"I have to." But all Draco did was step outside into the dark corridor, wait five seconds, and stroll back in, right through the filmy haze of green that hung across the open doorway. He shut the door with his hand.

"What's that all about?" Dudley questioned.

It took Harry a minute to reason it out himself. "Oh. The rooms let him in," he told his cousin. "The wards aren't supposed to admit anyone who intends me harm." Harry turned to the Slytherin boy. "I suppose you think that means I have to trust you."

"No, Harry. You don't have to. Ignore the fact that your new father's wards trust me just fine. That's right. You go live in your own little world. Don't mind me at all."

"Oh, you want facts?" Harry sneered. "How's this for one? Number Four Privet Drive was good and warded, wasn't it? It wasn't supposed to let in anybody who wanted to hurt me. So how come my Uncle got to stroll in every night after work? How come Dudley here--sorry, Dudley--was able to walk through the door?"

"Because they lived there!" Draco hotly retorted, and then said in a meekish voice. "Oh. I thought that would do it, I really did."

Dudley looked from Harry to Draco and back. "I think I'll go to bed. Um, Draco... could you?" He gestured vaguely at the couch.

Draco shook his head, his mood still subdued as he said, "Harry doesn't need me in there to protect him, not now that the wards are up. You should take a last chance to catch up before you have to leave."

Nodding, Dudley wandered off towards the bedroom.

Harry was tired too, but he wanted more Truthful Dreams potion. Snape's door was closed now, though, and he hated to bother him, especially since the man was likely to tell him it wasn't terribly smart to take it every single night.

But he wanted to dream of his mother and father again.

"What?" Draco asked, just sounding tired.

"I... never mind," Harry gave up, miserable. Maybe it was wrong to long for dreams of his dead parents, on this first night he really had a new one. Wizard Family Services might not consider it "official" quite yet, but the counters and the warding spells did. And Snape did.

And that was good enough for Harry. He was adopted, now. It was final.

I really should have said something to Snape, he realised. But what? He doesn't much like thanks. Maybe I should try to call him Severus like he asked.

"What?" Draco demanded again.

"The colour on the walls is fading," Harry thought to say. It was true, but definitely wasn't the reason he was dithering in the living room.

Draco shrugged, then ventured, "Look, I know your cousin doesn't like your snake any more than I do, but I can't sleep knowing it might come creeping out all over me...."

"But you've been sleeping out here for nights and nights!"

"Yeah. I, um, sort of kept casting Stupefy on your pet."

"Draco!"

"Shh, you'll wake up Severus and he needs the rest. Interaxial magic really takes it out of you. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is I don't want to keep doing that, okay? So could you please take the bloody snake into the bedroom with you?"

Harry looked at him doubtfully. "Well, sure, but you know she could just crawl out under the door while you're asleep."

"Are you trying to give me nightmares?" Draco sighed. "I'm planning to cast a breachment spell across the crack."

"All right," Harry agreed. He went and gathered Sals up, ignoring Draco's look of disgust, and went in to bed.

Maybe it was because Sals was curled around his arm, the light motion of her breathing somehow comforting, or maybe he was just all dreamed out, but whatever the cause, Harry didn't have any nightmares that night.

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By noon the next day, Dudley was gone.

By evening, Harry had his mother's ring back around his neck; the headmaster had collected it from Dudley after they'd arrived at King's Cross Station and made it back onto the regular platform.

The promised adoption document, however, had not arrived; nor had an official seal appeared on Harry's copy. He knew, because he checked it every half-hour or so. After Harry had made about six such forays into his bedroom to peer at the contract stashed in his trunk, Snape insisted he get his mind onto something else. "A game of chess, perhaps," he suggested.

Harry was pretty sure Snape would wipe the floor with him, but that wasn't what made him shake his head. "What if they say no?" he asked, surprised and a little dismayed to hear his voice wavering as it emerged.

Snape pointed at the sofa until Harry stopped his restless pacing and sat down. "Why would they do that?"

"Well, you know," Harry muttered, looking down at his own hands.

"You are thinking of my past, perhaps?"

"No," Harry exclaimed, shocked. "You saved me from Voldemort, for Merlin's sake! Nobody could seriously think that's an issue..." His face fell. "Could they?"

"The headmaster assures me not."

"Oh, great," Harry muttered. "He's still upset I wouldn't blurt out all my deepest feelings to him. I mean, he hardly said two words when he brought Darswaithe by, and today when he returned my ring, he was even less talkative--"

"If Albus Dumbledore did not think the adoption a good idea, he would most assuredly have not sent Lupin to the Continent."

"I guess I just think things never go my way," Harry admitted. "I mean, I've never had a normal year, yet."

"A circumstance in your favour, I should think. Who would have predicted during this year's Sorting Feast that December would see you adopted by your hated Potions Master? Willingly, no less."

Harry looked up. "I... I don't hate you."

"My point exactly."

"I was thinking I should probably try to call you Severus," Harry admitted, frowning a bit. "But... I don't know. It doesn't feel right. Too many years of class with you. I guess it's different for Draco. He knew you before."

Snape leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs. "I certainly don't recommend Severus in class, no. But outside of it, you may do as you think best."

"Hardly matters. I'll never get back to class," Harry sighed.

"You will."

"I wish somebody could tell me when."

"Divination not being my specialty, I'm afraid I can be of no use, there."

That observation lightened Harry's mood. "Why'd you take it to N.E.W.T. level, Professor? I mean, what's the point of taking the exam if you're going to earn a score of Troll?"

Draco heard that from inside the bedroom, and came strolling out. "Oh, do tell. Severus scored Troll on something?"

"Divination," the Potions Master growled.

"But anybody can fake their way through Divination," Draco laughed. "All it takes is half a brain-- oh, sorry. That didn't come out right."

Harry had never before heard of a good-natured glower, but Snape managed to direct one toward the Slytherin boy.

"Come on, tell us the rest," Draco urged, taking a seat next to Harry. "I know there's more to the story. I know you could easily lie your way through it the way Harry and I did. So why didn't you?"

The glower got a little bit less friendly as Snape admitted, "I was possessed of some vainglorious notion that I could prove the discipline a complete farce. My N.E.W.T. essay topic was something along the lines of Discuss five different Divination techniques and for each, give detailed examples of prophecies that have been subsequently fulfilled."

Draco chuckled low in his throat. "Let me guess. You discussed five techniques at length, all right."

Snape's lips curled in fond remembrance. "Oh yes, great length, but my detailed examples tended toward refutation, to say the least. I believe my thesis was, There never has been, and never will be, any possible means of foretelling the future. Of course from the perspective of twenty years I can see that my point of view then was overly didactic."

Harry glanced at Draco and was relieved to see the other boy looking puzzled, too.

"I was wrong," Snape clarified, exchanging a look with Harry.

The prophecy ...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...

"Yeah," Harry nodded.

Draco clearly didn't follow the conversation. "You mean Harry's seer dreams?"

"Among other manifestations. But what they have in common is they aren't solicited." Snape steepled his fingers and looked at the two boys over them. "The future doesn't reveal itself on command. But when it wants itself revealed, it will find a way."

"So, what does the future hold?" Draco asked, shifting towards Harry.

"Got me," Harry lightly returned.

"Not going to tell me, then?"

Snape got him off the hook. "There's still the issue of interpretation, Draco."

"Yeah, I don't really know anything," Harry insisted. And wasn't that true, considering how little he'd understood about what the brothers-dream actually meant. It was about his feelings regarding his Slytherin side, really. Just as Remus had said.

While Harry was still pondering that, a package tumbled out of the Floo. Flat, square, and wrapped in parchment, it had tied atop it a small, folded note. Harry started to get up, but Draco grabbed his arm and yanked him back down to the couch.

"What's your problem?" Harry erupted. "It's the adoption certificate!"

"Wait," Draco only said, pointing toward Snape, who was circling the package cautiously, his wand at the ready. A few spells later and he was satisfied.

Constant vigilance, Harry remembered. Sure, the Floo was warded from here to Sunday with Snape's usual safeguards as well as blood-protection for Harry, but it still paid to be cautious.

Snatching the note off the top, Snape unfolded it and read aloud, "Severus, this was dropped at your place in the Great Hall this evening during dinner. I shall speak to Wizard Family Services about their obtaining some more intelligent owls, as you were most definitely not present. Perhaps you would consider joining your colleagues for the occasional meal. Yours, etc, Albus PercivalWulfric Brian Dumbledore."

Harry realised he was grinding his teeth in irritation. "You're there most days at lunch! Dinner too, sometimes."

Snape shook his head as he tapped his wand to dissolve the parchment wrapping to reveal a simple wooden box.

"What, you're eating in your office when you're not with us?"

No answer.

"You're skipping meals?" Harry reasoned, finally. "Well, that has to stop."

"You," Snape stressed as he slid a document from the box and handed it to Harry, "are not the parent here."

Well, neither are you, was Harry's automatic response, but he couldn't say that now, could he? Not with the adoption contract staring him straight in the face. Each corner bore a small seal of authenticity, and over their signatures was a larger one depicting a large bird hovering over several smaller ones. Snape handed it to Harry, who looked it over with a feeling like satisfaction welling up inside him. Fear was there too... fear of the unknown, fear of getting in too deep, fear of this mattering to him more than it should.

But mostly, the feeling was one of contentment.

"What do we do with this?" Harry asked.

"Thistlethorne suggested framing it."

"Yeah, Thistlethorne," Harry mocked. "She was full of suggestions, wasn't she?"

"That's enough of that," Snape warned, his expression easy to read, at least for Harry.

"Yes, sir," he quietly said.

"May I see?" Draco asked, surprising them both.

"Yeah, sure," Harry agreed, passing it over.

Draco looked at it for several moments, but didn't seem to be reading it; his eyes were fixed on the document as a whole, rather than scanning it line by line. Then standing, he handed it back to Harry and said, "Please do excuse me."

Harry thought it best to say nothing at all about Draco's hasty departure. "Here," he said, handing Snape the parchment. "I have a copy already, after all. You decide what to do with it."

Nodding, Snape rolled the parchment up, transfigured a bit of lint into a white ribbon, and tied it around the scroll. He placed it on top of a bookshelf in the living room. "I strongly recommend you keep your own copy in your trunk until you get a chance to place it in your vault. This copy, however, is designed for show. I'll leave it here in case you wish to let anyone see it."

"I'm not ashamed," Harry declared. "First chance I get, I'll tell my friends."

Snape's nostrils flared. "You're not a Hufflepuff, Harry; there's no need to be so demonstratively loyal to me. I won't mind in the least if you apply a little cunning to the matter of whom to tell, and when. You've said yourself how important your friends are to you. What sense is there in upsetting them over this?"

"If they have an ounce of sense, they'll be glad I finally have a... uh, someone to take care of me. Not that I can't take care of myself," Harry rambled. "Because I can, you know. Well, mostly. I mean, I'm not going to be that much work..." Realizing how mixed-up he sounded, Harry decided the smartest thing he could do would be to shut up.

"Ronald Weasley may well not possess a single ounce of sense," Snape bitingly informed him.

"It's not fair to judge him just on his work in Potions," Harry insisted. "Not that he's even all that bad at them."

"Potions aside, Weasley most definitely lacks some portion of his brain. Didn't he spend an entire year casting spells with a broken wand, to disastrous effect at times?"

"Geez, he was only a second year," Harry grumbled, deciding he'd just as soon not mention that Ron's family maybe couldn't have afforded another wand that year. Ron sure wouldn't want Draco overhearing that. "I bet all you Slytherins just howled with laughter over the slugs incident," he complained.

"I do believe we did."

Harry was saved from answering by Draco's reappearance. And what a reappearance it was! Harry could hardly believe his eyes. The Slytherin boy had been wearing black jeans and a grey shirt before. Now, he was attired in velvet green dress robes trimmed with a narrow edge of glinting silvery fur. In his hand he carried a small bouquet of... well, Harry wasn't actually sure. Flowers, definitely, but also berries, and spices... even pine needles. The whole thing was neatly tucked into a potions vial filled with a brown flaky substance.

He strode calmly across the room to stand before Snape, who had gone still and silent at the sight the boy presented. Then in one smooth motion, Snape had moved to stand.

From that moment, Harry was aware that something important was going on, something he didn't understand. Both Snape and Draco seemed completely caught up in solemnity. Or ceremony, perhaps.

Or formality, even, because Harry had never seen Draco act this way before.

After giving a slight nod, Draco stepped closer to the Potions Master and clasped both his outstretched hands, the odd little bouquet held between them. "Severus," he said, his voice warm, his words holding the sound of a vow, "upon this hallowed day your joy is made complete. May the years to come be many, and overflow with all I wish for you and yours."

Snape had been gazing into Draco's eyes, his own a little stunned, but at that, he glanced down at the bouquet. Studying it for a long moment, he finally murmured, "Well chosen, Draco."

Draco nodded again, the gesture solemn, then lifting each of Snape's hands in turn, lightly kissed them. Finally, he reached up on tip-toe to lay a kiss against the man's cheek.

With that, he neatly turned on a heel and walked toward Harry. Unsure of what was going on, or what he was supposed to do, the Gryffindor boy rose uncertainly to his feet. Dear God, Draco wasn't going to kiss his hands and cheek too, was he?

But Draco merely handed him the bouquet, and with a slight bow, turned away and went back into the bedroom.

Nervous about the whole thing, Harry gave a shaky laugh and lifted the bouquet to his nose to smell it. It was like an evergreen forest wrapped in kitchen scents.

Snape, he saw, still looked rather startled by Draco's behaviour.

"Uh, what was that?" Harry had to ask.

The question seemed to drag Snape from his reverie. "A well-wishing ceremony," he explained, coming to stand by Harry so that he could take another good look at the bouquet. "Pureblood tradition."

"Are adoptions so common?"

"No." Twin spots of colour stole into Snape's cheeks as he admitted, "It's used for births, to welcome a new child into the family. Normally the flowers and herbs would be placed around the newborn's cradle. Draco's adapted the tradition by giving them into your hand."

Harry hated to be dense, but on the other hand, he hadn't been raised around wizarding traditions. "What's he trying to say?"

"That he accepts you as my son, I imagine," Snape murmured.

Harry lowered his voice. "Why did you say 'well chosen'?"

"Every well-wisher assembles an offering of plants, each of which is imbued by its nature with specific magical properties. In choosing huckleberry, pine, gardenia, loosestrife, thyme, woodruff, tea, and leek, Draco is expressing particular wishes with regard to your future."

"So what do they all mean?" Harry pressed.

"Ah, but I can't tell you that. Each well-wish is spelled to last so that when the child grows old enough, he can find out for himself what friends and family long ago wished for him."

"I bet I can get Draco to spill the beans."

"I seriously doubt that. He'll expect you to uncover the meanings just as he had to do when he was twelve and was given all the well-wishes laid around his own cradle."

"Oh, come on," Harry urged, grinning a bit as he plucked out a purple blossom from the tiny bouquet. "You said loosestrife. That would be purple loosestrife, right, like in the Truthful Dreams Potion? You've got to tell me what that does. I mean, you dosed me with it!"

"And you were so very interested in its properties that you asked me about it at once," Snape sarcastically remarked. "I recall it well. You insisted on full disclosure of all of loosestrife's characteristics before you would so much as taste the Potion. It was quite the argument there for a while--"

"All right, I didn't care a bit until right now, I admit it!" Harry laughed. "But seeing as it was both in the Potion and showed up here, I'd think you'd satisfy my curiosity. Or should I just keep guessing? So, it promotes truth. Draco wants me to tell the truth? He's saying I'm a liar? What kind of wish is that?"

"Oh, just tell him the about loosestrife before I have to listen to any more idiocy," Draco called from the bedroom, proving that he was eavesdropping as usual. Then again, the door was open, Harry realised. Draco couldn't really help but hear.

"Loosestrife provides both peace and protection," Snape supplied in a smooth voice. "It's the emotional dampening agent in Truthful Dreams."

"Speaking of which, could I have... er, more?"

"You fear you may have nightmares tonight?"

"No." Harry cleared his throat. "I mean, not particularly. But I do tend to have them a lot. I'd sort of like to get dreamed out. I mean, if I could run my normal course of awful dreams with the potion to help me er... cope, then maybe I wouldn't need to worry about nightmares as much." Harry sighed. "Does that make any sense at all?"

"It does," Snape acknowledged. "Wait here. I'll get you a few single-dose vials."

While his teacher... oh, adoptive father, Harry realised... was gone, he started to feel a little guilty about what he'd just said, because true as it was, it wasn't the whole truth by any means.

"Um, Professor?" he ventured when Snape held out the requested vials. "That last thing I told you? I was being sort of Slytherin. I.... er, the real reason I wanted the potion was because last time I had a dream about my... um, parents, and I was hoping to see them again."

Snape placed the vials in Harry's hand and curled the boy's own fingers over them. "I have no problem with that, save the one I believe the headmaster cautioned you about regarding the Mirror of Erised."

"It does no good to dwell in dreams and forget to live," Harry acknowledged. "I understand. Thank you, sir."

Snape merely inclined his head.

When Harry went in to bed, Draco was in his pyjamas and under the covers, but still awake. "Why can't you call him Severus?" he inquired as he leaned on one elbow to prop himself up.

Harry shrugged, sitting down to slip off his shoes. He massaged his left foot briefly. Though it was no doubt completely healed, it still did ache a bit.

"He's your father now, for Merlin's sake!"

"Maybe that's just it," Harry murmured. "Did you call your father Lucius? I can't think I'd have called mine James had he lived."

Draco choked back a laugh. "You don't mean you're going to bow to your cousin's suggestion and start calling him Dad, do you? I'd like to see the look on Severus' face."

"Dad's not right either," admitted Harry. "Or anything else I can think of."

"Try Pa," Draco drawled in a truly horrendous imitation of an American southerner.

Harry shuddered theatrically and did his best to get the conversation off names. "Thank you for the bouquet, by the way."

"It's hardly a bouquet," Draco clarified in a superior tone. "It happens to be a well-wish. However, you're welcome."

"Doing that... it was thoughtful of you," Harry admitted. "Er... why didn't you say anything to me like you did to Snape?"

Draco laughed. "Well, as far as the ceremony goes, you stand in the position of the newborn child. There's a presumption that a baby of a few days won't understand much in the way of vows."

"Oh, right," Harry murmured. "Okay. Um... I don't suppose you'd tell me what thyme stands for? Or pine needles?"

"Do your own research, you lazy boy," Draco yawned. "I had to. Hey, at least you didn't get any banana leaves like I did. They represent fertility and potency. You know, I'm supposed to have lots of little pure-blooded children to populate Wizarding Britain."

Lots of little Dracos... Harry almost made a face. Instead, he grabbed a quill and parchment, setting the well-wish aside so he could write. "Can you tell me what's in it again?"

"You really don't listen when Severus talks," Draco lightly gibed.

"I'll listen to you," Harry said with false sweetness, which earned him a laugh first, and then a recitation of the components of the well-wish. He wrote them all down and said, "I'll be in to sleep in a little while. I'm going to start cracking on this research. Uh, can you lend me the books you were using?"

"Sorry," Draco airily replied, sounding anything but. "I returned them all to Professor Sprout when she flooed through with the plants for me."

"Oh, come on! Another teacher strolled through here without me noticing? Without even asking to talk to me?"

"Oh, she asked. But you and Severus were in with the casewitch." Draco grinned then, a devilish light in his eyes. "I swore Dudley to secrecy, and he actually complied. How's that for Slytherin cunning? I mean, no offence, but he is a bit of a blabbermouth. You'll have to owl Madam Pince for some resources."

"Oh yes," Harry agreed. "I'll just go write her a letter straight away. Oh, and I told Sals not to crawl on you, okay? And she said she wouldn't. Actually, she said she never had, because you sort of creeped her out."

"She did not!"

"Yeah, she did. What did you expect after you Stupefied her all those times? Anyway, she won't bug you, so I was hoping you wouldn't get upset if I wanted to bring her in here with me from now on. She slept wrapped around my arm last night and it was really nice; I could feel her little breaths--"

Draco looked like he was about to sick up. "Enough said," he gasped out. "I'll put a breachment spell around my bed, just in case your darling little snake decides to wander."

"She won't."

"Well, she won't crawl on me, that's something certain," Draco announced.

"Good night, then," Harry answered, grabbing the well-wish before quietly closing the door behind him. He walked out in sock feet, sat at the kitchen table, and placing the well-wish in the centre of it, began his letter.

It didn't start Dear Madam Pince.

No, Harry had a much better idea of how to get some research help.

Dear Hermione, he wrote. I'm sorry I missed you when you last came down. Was it Padma or Parvati who came along with you? Whoever it was, say hallo from me, and say hi to Ron and Neville, too. Anyway, I was in an important meeting at the time. I hope Draco wasn't too rude, but it was really for the best that the meeting wasn't interrupted. I want to see you soon, though. Really, as soon as you can make it down again. I have some things to tell you. In the meantime, though, could you look up a few plant properties for me? I need to know the magical qualities of leek, pine needles, thyme, huckleberry, woodruff, tea, and gardenia.....

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Coming Soon in A Year Like None Other:

Chapter Forty-Five: Family and Friends

~

Comments very welcome,

Aspen in the Sunlight