Blood Magic by GatewayGirl
Summary: Blood magic was supposed to keep Harry safe, but his relatives are expendable. Blood magic was supposed to keep Harry looking like his adoptive father, but it's wearing off. Blood is a bond, but so is the memory of hate -- or love.
Categories: Parental Snape > Biological Father Snape > Severitus Challenge Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Hermione, Remus
Snape Flavour: None
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama
Media Type: None
Tags: Slytherin!Harry, Snape-meets-Dursleys
Takes Place: 6th summer
Warnings: Alcohol Use, Drug use, Neglect, Profanity, Romance/Het, Romance/Slash, Torture, Violence
Challenges: None
Series: Blood Magic Universe
Chapters: 84 Completed: Yes Word count: 337748 Read: 759754 Published: 14 Dec 2009 Updated: 14 Jan 2010
The Custody Hearing by GatewayGirl

"Bit of a cool 'good morning' you got there," Bill commented. Harry started to nod, but the tickle of a thestral-hair brush across his cheek reminded him to stay still. Dumbledore's greeting had lacked its usual warmth, though the expected lecture seemed to have been postponed, at least until after the hearing.

"I'm in disgrace."

"Ah. Was Snape in here because of that, or in spite of it?" Bill grinned. "Just tell me to mind my own business, if you like."

"I expect they'd have talked anyway, but I'm certain what I did was added to the agenda."

Bill nodded. For a few minutes, he painted in silence.

"Worried about the hearing?"

"Yeah." Harry was surprised to realize that was true. The fight with Draco and the talk with Hermione had done nothing to make him more hopeful of repairing the damage, nor to dispel the pit of loss left by the abrupt end of the Fealty Spell, but it seemed to have disrupted his obsession with the matter. The hearing had once again claimed center stage among his worries.

"Ah." Bill sighed. "Has anyone told you you'll have a guard, today?"

"No." Harry bit back an "of course not." It was possible there simply hadn't been time.

"Ah. Well, Kingsley has been cultivating an old school friend at the Daily Prophet, and last night it paid off. We found out that someone -- well, Percy, actually -- had contacted the Prophet and suggested they might want to cover the hearing. At least two other publications were also invited. So it turns out the hearing will have significant press coverage."

"Oh hell!"

"Well ..." Bill frowned. "I'm sure you won't like it; I wouldn't. It means, though, that Fudge has less leeway than he might have. He can't suddenly change the time or location, for example. And his cronies can't make favorable rulings without being able to defend them. Wizarding law is more strongly biased to blood relatives than Muggle law is, according to Tonks."

"How much more, though? Could we lose this?"

Bill gave him a questioning look. "Concerned?"

"Well, I don't want to be under the care of the Ministry!" The thought of Umbridge, the last Ministry representative to have authority over him, cause Harry to rub anxiously at the back of his right hand. The light here wasn't bright enough to show the faint words there, but he could still see them in sunlight.

"Is that it?" Bill pushed a stray strand of bright hair back over his shoulders. "Well, they can't refuse custody to Snape just because they don't think he'd be a good parent, or that someone else would be better. If they decide you would be actively endangered by him, though, they can." Bill's open smile twisted for a moment. "Good thing they didn't find out in advance -- I think they could establish a pattern of abuse, if they talked to enough of your classmates."

"But even then he protected me," Harry protested. "And he did think it was the best thing for me -- being harsh with me, I mean -- he just thought he knew things about me that he didn't."

"Even so. It could sway a fair number of people, considering his history. I expect he's listening to a sermon on civility right now -- it won't look good if he goes off into one of his fits of temper." Bill frowned as he painted the area under Harry's lip. "And removed from Hogwarts, you have less protection ... unless Snape dies for you as your mother did."

Harry scowled, sending the brush wide. "No one else is allowed to die for me!"

"Sit still and be quiet." Bill's voice was neither loud nor sharp, but carried an iron core of authority that reminded Harry of McGonagall. "It is not your decision to make. We have our own lives, and will do with them as we see fit."

"But I don't want it!"

"Nonetheless. Given the choice of dying for you or living under Voldemort, I wouldn't hesitate."

Harry swallowed. Of course, it was not just him. If he died, many hopes died with him.

"Is it wrong to want Voldemort gone for frivolous reasons?"

"Frivolous?"

"So I can have a life?"

"That's not frivolous, Harry. You're more trapped by his hatred than any other potential target."

"Do we think he'll attack, today?"

"At the hearing? As the event is public knowledge, he might. I don't think he will, though -- he would almost certainly lose any operative he sent, and likely to no advantage. Like Fudge, he probably assumes that the hearing is a formality, and plans to wait until you're away from Dumbledore."

"Why the guard, then?"

Bill grinned. "The press. We're going to keep them off you."

Harry's spirits lifted considerably at Bill's use of "we." Having the eldest Weasley brother along couldn't help but improve his day. "You and who else?"

"Me and Fred and George. They said they might bring along a few friends, too, since this isn't an Order of the Phoenix operation. Dad, if nothing comes up. Tonks wanted to, but Dumbledore doesn't want her so clearly linked with you."

"So what should I do?"

"The same as your father. Be steady, be reasonable, and don't charge any red flags that get waved in front of you."

"We're doomed."

Harry was only half-joking. The thought that the hearing rested on his and his father's ability to stay calm was daunting.

"You might want to lose the knife." Bill nodded at the knife in its red and gold sheath at Harry's waist. "I admit it sets off the green nicely, but they won't allow a weapon into the Chamber, however pretty it is, and we'd have trouble if you stuck it in someone on the way."

Nervously, Harry fingered the hilt of the knife.

"I was hoping.... It's spelled to be unable to cut human flesh."

Bill's eyebrows rose. "Oh, in that case, they might allow it. It's even less useful, though." He laughed. "Haven't tried to cheat a goblin, have you Harry?"

"No. It's not a fighting knife, anyway. It's a utility knife. And I don't know how to knife-fight."


In the front hall of the Ministry, when the charms on the knife had been tested, and the item approved for admittance, tagged, and handed back to him, he started to wonder if he should learn to knife fight. Even if the charmed knife wouldn't pierce flesh -- and he wasn't certain it wouldn't -- thrusting with something with such a fine point should still be able to do significant damage. The idle thought was driven away by Lee Jordan slapping him on the back.

"Nice one, Harry!"

Lee had been waiting at the Floo point, with Fred and George and Angelina, when Harry and Bill stepped through a gilded fireplace into the palatial entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic. Surrounded by the five of them, all laughing and teasing, he had reached the security station without being spotted. Today's guard was better-groomed than the one who had received Harry and Mr. Weasley a year ago, but he had the same bored look. "Line up," he had said. "Wands out."

Harry, pushed to the front, had handed his wand over, then his knife, and waited for both to be evaluated.

Now, with the members of his escort still queued up to one side, he finally saw something of the hall. At this hour, there were few arrivals. He could see the Fountain of Magical Brethren. It looked fine at first glance, but he had read articles in the Daily Prophet which claimed it had been glamoured rather than repaired; squinting, he could see the tell-tale glimmer at the places where it had broken under Voldemort's assault.

As George was getting the paper for his wand (hazel, ten inches, fwooper feather core -- Harry hadn't even known fwooper feathers were used for wands, but it made a twisted sort of sense, as did Fred's wand, identical but for being an inch shorter), a flash from a camera told Harry that his luck had run out. Before they could leave the desk, a stranger with a quill had broken away from the crowd by the lifts.

"Harry Potter! Any thoughts on your change of --"

Fred, or possibly George, rounded on the man who had spoken. "Harry's thoughts are his own. Back off."

"I see the --"

George, or possibly Fred, walked behind the man and tossed a small object at his feet. In a puff of smoke, the reporter turned into a large squirrel, chittering fiercely and flicking its red tail.

"Get clear of the smoke, now!" Angelina yanked Harry to the side, and pulled him towards the lifts, while the Weasleys and Lee jostled around them. Harry wondered if it looked more like he had a bodyguard or a gang. The squirrel took one hop after the group, then returned to try vainly to gather its writing implements into its little paws.

Harry wasn't sure they would get into a lift in time, but one was waiting, the doors being held open and clear by an even more unexpected figure.

"Get on in, Harry! Ministry has more rules than the pitch -- don't want to be stopped."

"Oliver!"

A shove from behind sent Harry into the lift.

"Gape at him inside," said one of the twins.

"Didn't think everyone had forgotten you, did you?"

Harry laughed in relief as the doors closed. "Good thing there weren't more reporters."

"There'll be more at the hearing."

"Katie is meeting us there, bringing a bloke she knows from the pub."

"Do they all know?"

"We haven't said a thing."

"Not a hint."

"But it's all right."

"It's you, you know."


The lift sank, and Harry's sudden elation vanished like a soap bubble. He had a moment of anticipatory dread before the lift's cool female voice announced, "Department of Mysteries."

The golden grills slid back to reveal a horribly familiar corridor: plain, bare, and leading to a single black door. Harry wanted to scream, wanted to stop and cry for Sirius, but his escorts jostled him companionably along, mercifully not to the door, but to the stairs. Harry went numbly with them, thoughts of his ill-sent visions and the Ministry battle displacing all worry about the hearing. He wished Sirius had survived his foolishness, and wondered guiltily if his godfather would still love him now that he had no blood-tie to James.

Of course he would, he told himself. It might not be true, but it probably was, and there was no harm in believing it. Miss you, Sirius. I'm so sorry. I still love you.

He needed to distract himself. "Is it in Courtroom Ten?" he asked.

Bill, to Harry's relief, shook his head. They were down in the dungeon corridor, now, but this time Harry could hear a chatter of noise ahead of them.

"It's in Courtroom One." Bill rolled his eyes. "The only reason for Fudge to use that room is so that the public can watch, which mean he expects a walkover. We know that, or he wouldn't have invited the press."

Harry tried not to think about his experiences with the press.

"Dad thinks some of the more independent-minded Gamot-thana will skive off, since it's so trivial; enjoy shocking the sycophants. But Dumbledore sent a few owls of his own, to ensure that the assembly had some of his people, not just the Minister's." They stopped before an immense door with imposing iron bolts, but Bill turned Harry around to an unassuming, more modern door on the other side of the corridor. "We can watch from the observatorium." He smiled slightly. "Until you are summoned, at least."

Harry nodded. He couldn't seem to force any words out. Bill opened the door. The observatorium was a long, narrow, room with pew-like benches in four tiered rows. Where the wall to the corridor should have been, seemingly empty space looked out over a huge, torchlit courtroom. "It's charmed to view the courtroom," Bill whispered. "They used to allow people in the actual galleries, but after a coordinated incendiary attack in the nineteen-seventies, they created these rooms and charmed them to have the same view."

About twenty people were already in the room, but most were clustered towards the front. Many of them had quills and other writing implements, and all seemed to be busily talking to their neighbors. Harry slouched to remain hidden behind Oliver and Lee, and mercifully, no one noticed him. His guard of honor led the way up the side stairs to the top of the room, where Katie was waiting with a brown-haired man. When Harry reached her, she jumped to her feet and hugged him, while Harry carefully hid his face in her hair. Bill and Angelina sat on the other side of him on the top bench, while Lee, Fred, George, and Oliver sat in front of them on the row below. Harry appreciated the cover, even while he was annoyed at the obstruction of his view.

Harry was just shifting to be able to see between Lee and the nearer of the twins when the door opened again.

"He's got to be here somewhere!" one of the newcomers exclaimed loudly, and the reporter from upstairs came into Harry's view.

"Quiet in the Observatorium." The cool female voice from the elevator came from the ceiling.

Another man with the erstwhile squirrel pointed up at Harry's group. "There are the redheads!"

"Quiet in the Observatorium."

A broad-shouldered witch in a Security uniform moved clear of the door and waved her wand at them. "Observatorium," she snarled threateningly at the two newcomers. "Yew sit down and yew observe, right?"

"Quiet in the--" Another stab of the witch's wand at the ceiling and the voice fell silent. "Yew too."

Holding back a giggle, Harry began to peek at what he could see. There was one young man -- twenty at most -- bouncing on the balls of his feet just at the blank wall. He had a large self-rolling parchment hovering in front of him, and a dozen extra quills protruding from a sort of quiver at his waist. Harry supposed he was a reporter, as well. He wondered if the unexpected controversy at this event would be the making of his career.

He didn't see Rita Skeeter anywhere, for which he was grateful.

Lee edged over in response to a tap from Harry, and he finally had a view of the courtroom. It was a massive, cavernous hall of smoke-darkened stone, lit by flickering torches. Harry decided he had been wrong about Courtroom Ten. This must be the place were Barty Crouch and the Lestranges, and Ludo Bagman, and all the rest were tried. The imposing seats of the judges stood across from them, while the tiered benches of the rest of the Wizengamot were arrayed to either side in rising rows. From his memories of his own hearing, and of Dumbledore's pensieve, Harry was certain more filled the wall he could not see, as well.

Many seats were empty, and most of those present seemed to be scanning through papers. One middle-aged wizard was knitting something that shimmered like a starling's wing. Harry could see people bending towards each other to talk, but he could not hear a sound. Witches and wizards crossed the floor in formal heeled boots, but no crisp strike of wood on stone came to the observatorium.

"How will we know what they're saying?" Harry kept his query at a whisper, so as not to draw the attention of the reporters, some of whom had moved to sit nearer to his little group.

Bill leaned close. "As soon as the court is called to order, they'll extend the spell to include sound. Then it's just like the gallery ... except you can't throw fire on the judges who are enforcing the Protection of Wizarding Culture Act ... or, in this case, on you. Or Fudge."

Harry studied the courtroom. In addition to the chain-draped witness chair, centered before the judges, the floor had a small gated area a few paces further back, surrounded by a waist-high wall of heavy panels. As Harry watched, Dumbledore strolled into view. Severus walked a step behind him, with only a slight hesitant care to his steps betraying his recent ordeal. They crossed to the enclosed area, and Dumbledore lifted the latch on the heavy oak gate and let himself into the pen. With a slight lift of his fingers, the old wizard transfigured a section of the forward high-backed wooden bench into a worn, comfy-looking sofa. Harry could just imagine how Severus must be rolling his eyes. At a motion from Dumbledore, he sat stiffly beside the headmaster and pulled a small object from his pocket. Within seconds, it had enlarged to a writing slope, from which he took a quill, inkwell, and parchment. Apparently, he was here as Dumbledore's clerk.

Little else was happening in the courtroom. Harry wondered what they were waiting for. A few additional members trickled in while Harry watched. He started to count them and realized the assembly was not as small as he had thought -- merely diminished by the great room. He swallowed in apprehension at the thought of losing his mask in front of all those solemn witches and wizards. How would he manage to speak? Perhaps he should pick a judge to speak to.

Fudge sat in the central position on the Bench, but Harry didn't want to speak to him. On his left was an elderly, pleasant looking witch with bright silver hair and rose-pink robes. The spot to his right was empty. A movement in the aisle caught his eye, and Harry's recognized Amelia Bones, speaking to a dark-skinned witch in saffron robes that were nearly hidden behind a swarm of violet memos. Harry thought they looked like first-years jostling for attention. Bones finished the conversation, strode over to the Bench and motioned imperiously to Fudge.

The minister looked startled. Bones gestured again, pointing down at the floor. She took the monocle that had been dangling from a silver chain at her neck and screwed it firmly into place in front of her eye. Harry wished he could hear what she was saying. A few nearby people looked over, and Harry saw one's lips move. With an irritated look, Fudge finally stood and stomped down to the paneled pen. Harry watched the Minister frown at Dumbledore's purple-flowered sofa before perching uncomfortably on the edge of it. He flicked his hand irritably at a proffered toffee until Dumbledore withdrew it.

From his new seat, Fudge signaled Percy Weasley, who jumped to his feet and pointed his wand dramatically forward. Abruptly, the chattering whispers of the observatorium were muddled by amplified whispers from of the cavernous courtroom. Percy's fussy, officious voice drowned out both as he brought the court to attention:

"The Wizengamot will now--"

"Weasley!" Bones' booming voice stopped Percy in mid-sentence. "May I remind you that you are here as in your capacity as Clerk of the Court, not as the personal assistant of the petitioner?"

Percy looked uncertain for a moment, then cleared his throat. "Of course, Ma'am."

Harry was surprised that Percy's nervous reply was almost as loud as the stentorian demand of Madam Bones. The sound spell, he decided, must be stronger in key areas, such as the Bench. He expected the witnesses' voices would be similarly enhanced.

"Then you will take your cue from the Chairwitch of the Bench, is that understood?"

Percy reddened to match his hair as he watched Amelia Bones deliberately take her seat, square her papers, and readjust her monocle. She nodded to him.

Percy gathered his composure. "The Wizengamot will now hear this case." He sat.

Amelia Bones peered down at the flowered sofa, shook her head slightly, and began.

"Hearing of the first of November to confirm the fourth of October appointment of the Ministry of Magic, in the person of Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister, as guardian ad litem of Harry James Potter, currently resident at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Inquisitors: Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Justin Tatius Chandler-Thorpe, Head of the Department of Magical Records; and Florimel Dympna Patterson, Head of the Department of Family Welfare. Clerk: Percy Ignatius Weasley." After another frowning look at Dumbledore, she turned to Percy. "Mr. Weasley, read the findings of the previous hearing, please."

Percy bounced to his feet again. "Hearing of the fourth of October, application of Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, to assume legal guardianship of Harry James Potter." He set back his shoulders in a pompous gesture that Harry recognized from years past. "Despite the history of the Petitioner's relationship with both the minor and his late parents, the Wizengamot finds him unsuitable for the role of Guardian. The Petitioner 's previous refusal to assume guardianship of the minor, at the request of the Ministry on the death of the minor's parents, and his later inattention, when in loco parentis, to the minor's domestic conditions, led to the child spending fifteen years in an abusive Muggle environment."

"It's not his fault!" Harry burst out. Realizing his error, he ducked a little lower behind Oliver's broad back. He heard the movement of people shifting on the benches, but no one called out his name. Quills scratched frantically throughout the observatorium.

"In lieu of any other suitable candidates, Harry James Potter shall remain a ward of the Ministry of Magic until he comes of age on 31st July, 1997. Minister Fudge has pledged--"

"That'll do, Weasley." Bones looked over to her right, at the witch in pink robes. "Patterson?"

"The Department of Family Welfare finds the appointment suitable."

Harry twitched. When did Dumbledore get to say something? When did his father get to say something?

"Chandler-Thorpe?"

A sharp-faced man in mauve pinstriped robes nodded. "The Department of Magical Records also approves the appointment."

"Don't they have to--"

"Shh," Bill warned. Angelina patted Harry's knee comfortingly.

"All right, then. Unless we have some supportable --" Bones glared at Dumbledore "-- objection --" She fell silent. Dumbledore was rising to his feet.

Dumbledore beamed at her warning frown, and again at Percy, as if the indignant clerk were a favorite pupil. "I do have such an objection."

Harry saw a nearby wizard lean down towards Dumbledore and hiss a warning.

Fudge bounced out of his seat. For an exciting moment, Harry thought he might punch the headmaster. "Really, Dumbledore!" Fudge scowled at the old wizard. "Your case has been heard, as we have heard! You are not permitted to reintro--"

"Mister Fudge!" The powerful voice of Amelia Bones boomed across the room. "You will be silent until called upon."

"But I--"

"Buckle up, Fudge. Not an inquisitor now, you know. Professor Dumbledore? You are aware that your suit cannot be reconsidered?"

"Giving that boy to those Muggles!" hissed Patterson, either forgetful or uncaring of the sound charm.

"I am quite aware of that, Madam Bones. However, I have recently made a relevant discovery."

Harry watched witches and wizards glance up from their reading. After a second's pause, Dumbledore continued. "Harry has another living relative."

Soft gasps and not a few snorts greeted this statement, but he had everyone's attention, now. Fudge flinched, then forced a laugh. His eyes flicked briefly up towards the observatorium. "Really, Dumbledore? A genuine relative, or a pretender?"

Amelia Bones leaned forward before Dumbledore could reply. "Not a reliable relative, to stay hidden so long, now is he?"

Dumbledore nodded pleasantly. "I can see how you might think that. The difficulty is, Madam, he did not know he was a relative." Dumbledore shifted, so it was clear he was addressing the entire Wizengamot. Now Harry could see only the back of his bobbled velvet hat. "Quite recently, we received some interesting news -- James Potter did not father Harry Potter."

There was a split second of unreal silence, and then the room exploded into chaos. Several people jumped to their feet. The man with the knitting dropped a needle, unraveling a strand of stitches.

"Preposterous!"

"Circe!" exclaimed someone in the audience chamber, and "Dear god!" someone else.

"How dare you make such allegations, Albus!" a matronly witch in the courtroom scolded. "In public!"

"Wonder how the Boy-Who-Lived will take that!" exclaimed the reporter a few rows in front of Harry.

"Now, now," Dumbledore chided gently, setting his head to the side. "James was quite aware of this -- and before the fact. He and Lily performed the Paternity Charm before the baby was even born." The old wizard looked across the rows of his former colleagues, turning his head enough to the side that Harry could see his benign smile. "That is wearing off, now, of course."

"Poppycock!" Fudge settled firmly back on the squishy couch. "I saw the boy myself, not two weeks ago, and he looks the spitting image of James Potter!"

"Old man has finally lost it," said a nearby voice, a few rows ahead of Harry and his friends. Harry glanced around, but was distracted by the concern in Angelina's gaze. He nodded reassuringly at her, then, when she reached for him, caught her hand and squeezed it. Looking at his friends, he saw she was not the only one. He gave Oliver a quick smile and whispered, for all of them, "It's okay. Whatever you hear, it's okay."

When he returned his attention to the courtroom, it was still in chaos. Witches and Wizards were arguing with each other, with Fudge, and with Dumbledore. Fudge was standing and shouting, Dumbledore sitting and nodding in the way that made unsuspecting people think he was simple. They haven't even heard who my dad is yet! Harry thought. This is mad. He felt a bit excited.

Finally Madam Bones clambered to her feet and bellowed for silence. Even the people in the observatorium were shocked wordless by her amplified roar. She settled her monocle again and deliberately retook her seat.

"Now, Dumbledore -- where's your evidence? Minister Fudge says he saw no change."

Dumbledore dismissed the matter with a vague wave. "That may be, Amelia. But if he saw him now...."

"It would prove my point!"

"Fudge!" Bones warned.

Dumbledore sighed. "You may see Harry, if you wish. With the Chairwitch's permission of course?" He looked questioningly at Madam Bones. "He is in the observatorium."

Fudge nodded decisively. Harry wondered if the apparent tractability he had cultivated during Fudge's visit was about to pay off. Perhaps Fudge would consider his presence harmless.

"Percy!" Fudge stabbed an imperious finger at his aide. "Fetch--"

"Minister Fudge!" Bones barked, stopping him short. She looked down at Dumbledore. "Are you calling Harry Potter as a witness?"

"I am!" Fudge exclaimed.

"Yes, Amelia -- I am as well."

Bones turned to Percy. "Fetch the Potter boy, Weasley!"

"Yes, ma'am. Immediately." Percy gave a nod so deep that it was almost a bow, and worked his way along the bench to the aisle. Dumbledore shook his head as he left.

"There he is!" exclaimed a voice.

"Huh?" The cry pulled Harry's attention away from the courtroom and back to the observatorium. The young reporter was standing, back to the courtroom, pointing at him. After a split second of silence, the gathered crowd surged to their feet and advanced on Harry, held off only by his circle of volunteer protectors. Harry glanced into the courtroom. Dumbledore was speaking, and Harry thought he said something about Masking but he couldn't catch enough of the words over the clamor of questions from the reporters surging about the Weasleys and his former teammates. Large wizarding cameras poked through the spaces between necks to catch him on film. Angelina started to scream -- not in panic, but in defiance -- a long, steady, raging cry that first Katie, then Katie's friend, then the twins, joined in on. The reporters fell silent and put their hands over their ears. Eventually the only sound was the strange chord of Harry's protectors. They trailed off, one at a time, as they noticed the questions had stopped.

"I don't think--" Harry started. He was going to say he didn't have time to answer anything before Percy arrived, but before he could, he saw Percy was already there, standing in the doorway shaking with fury. Harry had a moment of wondering what he had done before realizing it was the behavior of Percy's younger brothers that had enraged him.

Harry stepped forward, between Bill and Katie.

Percy nodded formally, but quickly and not deeply. "Mr. Potter, the court calls--"

"Yeah, Percy, I heard."

Percy shook himself like an annoyed owl. "calls you to stand as a witness in the hearing."

"So, let's go!" Harry moved to the stairs. Oliver and the twins flanked him on the lower tier.

Percy sucked in a hissing breath. "Harry. It was my hope, considering the grave events of the last year, that you might have matured--"

Only the presence of the journalists kept Harry from responding with a string of obscenities. "You think being a fawning toady makes you mature, Percy? Caring for nothing but power makes you mature?"

"I can and I will make a way for myself in this world! I am--"

Harry gestured to the side. "Fred and George manage to do that without bowing and scraping to Fudge! Without betraying their own--"

"You worthless--"

"-- blood! Without turning on--"

"-- little brat!"

"-- everyone. I'm not surprised about me, that's nothing compared to what you've done to your MOTHER!"

Harry realized everyone in the room was now staring at them. Even Percy had fallen silent, though from the swollen redness of his face, his silence came from rage too great to express.

Bill stepped forward. "Harry," he reproved.

Harry slouched. "Fine," he said. "Lead me to the Wizengamot. They've got to be better to talk to than you." He looked over at Bill. "Sorry."

Percy hurried him out of the room, but paused in the hallway to look him over. "Dumbledore has cracked. You've grown a bit, that's all." He shot Harry a hard look. "Physically, anyway."

Harry stayed silent. He hadn't realized he had been harboring that much anger at Percy, and he was more than a bit embarrassed by his outburst, but unwilling to apologize. I had better stay calmer than that before the Wizengamot.

When they reached the door, Percy went in first, but Harry paused at the threshold. Everyone was staring at him, but he didn't mind. He felt a bit odd, knowing why he didn't mind, but he still didn't. The attention grounded him, focused him. He paused until the first people began to look away, and then he stepped forward.

A collective gasp refocused the attention of the witches and wizards who had looked back at their papers. Harry felt a clean, bright feeling, like a cool breeze, flicker across his face. He focused on Dumbledore and Severus and kept walking forward.

"Good lord!"

"Merlin!"

"Will you look at that!"

A babble of whispers slowly dissolved into louder conversation. Harry didn't hear Fudge's distinctive bluster, but he couldn't bring himself to look at what the man was doing instead of talking. He was concentrating on the crowd, on riding the power of their chaos. It was Amelia Bones whose booming voice called him to a halt.

"Harry James Potter? Witness chair, if you please."

He looked up at her, feeling suddenly human again, and nodded slightly. Susan's aunt. She doesn't trust Remus. The judge pointed her wand at the empty chair in the center of the floor. Another one appeared beside it. "Dumbledore, you'd best join him."

Dumbledore stood. "A third chair perhaps, Amelia? I should think you would want to speak to Professor Snape, as well."

Severus put aside his writing slope and stood. There was another building rumble of whispers. Bones stared, her mouth slightly open.

Dumbledore nodded amiably. "As Harry's natural--"

Fudge jumped to his feet, interrupting the headmaster.

"NO!" He pointed at Dumbledore, his finger nearly poking into the old wizard's shoulder. "Your pet Death Eater is out of the question, Dumbledore! I remember that man's trial. If you think I would give him Harry Potter on a matter of simple resemblance--"

Severus, his hand on the gate, spoke for the first time. Harry suspected most of those present would not detect the quiet rage in his tone, but he could feel it like a dangerous current, ready to break forth in screaming hate. "It is not resemblance. I have the contracts."

At the mention of contracts, the rumbling stopped dead. People stared as if Severus's quiet assertion had been the battle roar of a dragon. Dumbledore tugged him forward, past a sputtering Cornelius Fudge, and out onto the floor. Every step that Severus and Dumbledore took echoed through the room as they walked across the worn flagstones. A third chair appeared, and they both sat, Severus next to Harry. Harry sent him a smile, but his father was still stiff with anger. Or maybe fear. He was tried here, or somewhere like this. It must be worse for him than for me.

"Contracts?" Fudge snorted in delayed contempt. "What contracts relate to fathering a child on another man's wife?"

Severus's lip curled. "Herem." His eyes glittered with anger. "I did not take her, Minister; she was given."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "We have James and Lily Potter's will, as well, in which both acknowledge Harry's paternity--"

"The court will call on each witness in--"

"Enough!" Oblivious to Madam Bones's reprimand, Fudge struck the heavy gate, making it bounce open and shut again. The crash echoed through the room. "I do not care if his paternity is sung by centaurs and assured by goblins; we cannot give Harry Potter to a former Death Eater! It is not safe!"

"Silence!" Amelia Bones roared. "If you won't be still, Minister, I'll hex you still! Each of you will speak when you are called to speak, is that clear?"

Harry sat frozen, and nodded when her gaze, after apparently receiving assent from each of the adults, moved to him.

She adjusted her monocle as she frowned down at them. "You there. Mr. ... Snipe, was it? The Minister has a point."

"Professor Snape, Madam Bones." The taut coldness of the voice told Harry how close his father was to losing control. Harry clenched his hands tightly together to resist the impulse to reach out to him. At this point, a touch could push him either way.

"I left the-- You Know Who's service of my own volition, before his fall and before Harry's birth ... indeed, his conception. I was cleared of all charges in this very room, fifteen years ago. Perhaps Minister Fudge could be more specific as to these dangers he fears?"

Severus sounded more confident, now, but Fudge, also, straightened and gathered his dignity.

"An apparent realignment of loyalties may have been sufficient in eighty-one, when we thought You Know Who destroyed. Since then, however, we have discovered that the Death Eaters -- including Mr. Snape, here, however much he may regret it -- can be summoned by You-Know-Who at any time, by means of the Dark Mark, which they allowed to be burned into their skin as part of entering his service. Now that he is active again, these people are a considerable risk. In fact, the Ministry has considered mandatory confinement of all those found to be bearing the Dark Mark."

Severus twitched, and his jaw tightened. Harry remembered him explaining the Dark Mark to Fudge after the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Afraid that his father would start to rage at the Minister, Harry reached over and grabbed his wrist. "Dad," he whispered. Severus closed his eyes.

Dumbledore waved his hand. A small, ceramic-topped wrought-iron table, bearing a china teapot and several small cups, appeared at the side of his chair, clanking into the unused manacles that hung from the chair's arm. "Have you indeed, Cornelius? I have found that fighting tyranny with tyranny is ultimately ineffective. You have since abandoned this ill-considered idea, I hope?"

Some members of the assembly shifted uneasily. Bones looked reproving down at Dumbledore. "Not what we're debating today, Dumbledore. Snape -- answer the objection."

Snape nodded coolly in her direction. "The ... You Know Who may indeed summon all those who bear the Dark Mark, as I explained to the Minister. Such a summons can be resisted -- but only with considerable pain. Over the last two years, I have used my ... connections to provide information where it would be received." He nodded his head at Dumbledore who returned the nod amiably and raised the teapot in invitation. Snape shook his head. "Now, however--"

"Now, he will not allow you to refuse!" Patterson interrupted impatiently. "What will you do then?"

"Now, I have considerably more freedom. Harry has broken the Dark Mark."

There was considerable uproar at this, but Fudge's voice roared out over it all. "That's impossible! Nothing can remove the Dark Mark! The Aurors have assured me that--"

"Silesceo!"

Fudge gaped like a fish with frantic, soundless words. Madam Bones sat back, lowering her wand.

"Sit down, Fudge." She looked down at the witness chairs. "Dumbledore? You're one of our foremost experts on the Mark. Is this true?"

Dumbledore did not stand. "A week ago, Amelia, I would have said the Dark Mark was unbreakable. However...." Over the rim of his teacup, he looked significantly at Harry, who needed no further encouragement.

"You can't break it." Harry forced himself to stand. He kept his voice steady, but strong. "I am a Parselmouth, and I did." He saw Madam Patterson flinch at the word "Parselmouth" and looked back to see Fudge's discomfiture. "Does that still bother you, Minister, that I speak to snakes? Do you really want me as a ward, then? Consider the possible damage to your reputation...."

Severus shot him a warning glance, while Dumbledore sipped his tea. Harry shrugged, and left it at that.

"Don't see what wittering on with snakes has to do with a binding mark," Bones boomed. "Make yourself plain."

Harry and Severus exchanged a look and concluded Harry should answer. He nodded. "Voldemort's --"

Gasps drown out his next word. Harry waited, ignoring Severus's glare and Dumbledore's approving smile. The room, at angry gestures from Madam Bones, quieted.

"His Mark includes a snake." He narrowed his focus to just her. "I gave it an order."

"An order?"

"I told it to leave." Harry reflected that this sounded much simpler and more deliberate than what had actually happened. He nodded towards Severus. "Snakes obey me, mostly. This one did. And since it left, my father's mark is just an empty skull, and seems ineffective."

Madam Bones turned her attention to Severus. "Come here, Snape. Show us this half Mark."

Snape rolled up his sleeve as he crossed the room. He presented his arm to Amelia Bones, then, at her gesture, to Patterson and Chandler-Thorpe.

Bones turned her attention to Dumbledore before Severus was back at his seat.

"Well, Dumbledore? What do you think of it?"

"Of the Mark? I think Harry truly did break it. He interrupted a summoning -- I was present, at the time. Of Professor Snape? I think he will be an unexpectedly good father. He has much in common with Harry. Of losing a warning device of Voldemort's summonings?" Dumbledore fluttered a hand in the air. "I am disappointed, but also glad to see Severus gain more freedom from the errors of his youth."

"Right, then. Did you bring these records of paternity? We'll need to view them."

Fudge twitched and waved a hand.

"Ah, right. The defending claimant." Bones conjured a fourth chair, on Dumbledore's far side. "Come forward, then." She lifted the spell from Fudge once he had reached the chair. "Speak up!"

"Records? You can't be serious! You'll give this ... Death Eater the Boy-Who-Lived if his records are in order?"

Amelia Bones fixed him with a steady gaze. "The law is clear, Fudge. Parents of blood have precedence, unless active abuse or endangerment is clearly demonstrated."

"I'd think this would count as endangerment! Potter is crucial to --"

"Many people -- not least his father, I would imagine. Dumbledore, the records please."

Severus pulled a small object from his pocket. Harry saw a twinkle of gold as he held it out to the tribunal. "The Herem contract is in this." He looked at Harry.

Harry touched the ring on his finger. "The will is in my ring." He hoped the court didn't keep it, and leave him unprotected. "It was my mum's. I'd like it back...."

"You'll have it back in minutes." Amelia Bones gave him a quick nod.

"Herem contract first," insisted a long-nosed witch sitting a few seats to the side of the judges.

There was a murmur of agreement, and Bones acquiesced. She pointed her wand at the floor in front of the witness chairs, and the stones slid back to show a huge, shallow bowl that was slowly filling with the clear liquid.

"Herem contract first," she boomed. "Go ahead, Professor Snape."

Severus nodded slightly to Amelia Bones. "Madam Bones. May we ... close the viewing?"

She had just started to open her mouth when Patterson shook her head "No. If we are to consider this ... turncoat, the records must be public."

Severus, his normally sallow face grown even paler, as if he were carved of wax, slid the brooch into the liquid.


The silence after the viewing of the contract had, perhaps, more amusement and shielded smiles to it than it had among the Weasleys, but no one commented.

"Should we perhaps consider closing--"

"No," Severus said flatly. "If one is public, both are."

No one disputed that. Harry stepped forward and worked the ring off his finger. A pale line marked its empty place. Taking care not to touch the liquid, he slid the glittering ring into it.

After the viewing of the will, the room was utterly still.


"Well." Dumbledore waved a hand and his tea things vanished. "Are there any further questions?"

Amelia Bones leaned forward. "Mr. Potter. In all of this, it strikes me that no one has asked your opinion. Do you accept Professor Snape as your father?"

Harry took a deep breath. He looked down at his mum's ring, glittering again on his finger. He had been waiting for this question; wondering if anyone would care (or dare) to ask it. He stood, and in a smooth motion, he collected his hair in his left hand, drew his knife with his right, and chopped the blade awkwardly through the gathered strands.

"I acknowledge that Severus Snape is my father. From now until my seventeenth birthday, I submit to his will."

There. It was done. Harry's scalp stung from the rough cut, and he suspected he looked ridiculous, but the looks of shock and approval from the members of the Wizengamot were well worth it. Harry glanced over at his father and saw that Severus was more astounded than any of them. He dared a quick, querulous smile, and Severus shook his head. "I don't believe you," he mouthed.

Harry fought down a laugh and looked back at Fudge. The Minister for Magic was furious, but kept his mouth tightly shut this time.

Madam Bones frowned. "Chandler-Thorpe?"

Chandler-Thorpe pursed his lips together in displeasure, but nodded curtly. "The Department of Records finds Severus Snape's claim in order. Patterson?"

Patterson leaned forward. Anger faded from her face as she shifted her focus from Severus to Harry. "I admire your sentiment, Mr. Potter, but there are still serious questions about the suitability of this man as caregiver for a vulnerable young person like yourself, especially in light of your history and his former comrades. He has faced serious charges in the past, and was, by his own admission, a member of a violent organization that still seeks to harm you, and murdered members of your family, only a few months ago. Perhaps you should take the advice of your elders and accept someone more ... level-headed."

Harry drew his shoulders back and shook his head slightly, uncertain whether he could speak.

"Be that as it may, Madam Patterson," Bones asserted. "Your official opinion?"

Patterson's face tightened with unhappiness. "Despite personal reservations...." She hesitated. "His natural father is entitled, of course, unless...."

"Madam Bones," a previously unheard voice called coldly. Harry turned to see a wizard with dark black skin and fine features standing among his seated peers. His long robes were patterned in vertical bands of many colors and types and his hair fell in long, skinny ringlets that could only have been maintained by magic. "I call this Inquisition to a vote on the matter at hand. If the majority is less than two-thirds, then let us debate further."

Mutters and cheers greeted this statement, and Amelia Bones nodded. "Very well. The vote is called." She lifted her head. "Attend! The Wizengamot will now vote on the petition before it, with due consideration for precedent and current law, as well as the peculiarities of this particular case. All in favor?"

Harry looked about him, bewildered, as hands rose in a collective swell of "Aye." Madam Bones's voting instructions seemed to favor his case, but he was unclear on what the actual vote was. He looked around for someone of known allegiance, but Fudge, of course, could not vote. Patterson did not have her hand up, which frightened him slightly. Certainly, she would vote against his father in this?

"All opposed?" Hands switched, with many more raised now, to a low, rumbling "Nay." Patterson's stayed down. She had apparently decided to abstain. The vote, whatever it was, had failed.

Harry looked desperately at his father, but Severus looked too stunned for any other emotion to show. Fudge was gaping again, his mouth open and shutting in silent astonishment. Promising, Harry thought.

"Petition dismissed." Amelia Bones stood, and a second later, the other Inquisitors followed her lead. "Chandler-Thorpe, will you kindly handle the paperwork?"

Chandler-Thorpe nodded and resumed his seat.

"Weasley?"

With a start, Percy pointed his wand at the gallery, terminating the sound charm, Harry presumed. Members of the Wizengamot were starting to leave now, walking in little clusters.

"... marvelous sandwiches at that blue ..." he heard in passing.

Dumbledore suddenly reached past him to shake his father's hand. "Congratulations, Severus," he said cheerily. His other hand rested briefly on Harry's shoulder.

"We won then?" Harry asked.

A slight twitch in Severus's cheek betrayed a barely repressed smile. "Was that unclear?"

"I didn't know what they were voting on!"

"The original petition -- for the Ministry to assume custody of you. With that out of the way, it is merely a matter of your father formalizing his acknowledgment of you." Dumbledore indicated the Bench with a sweeping gesture. "Now, my boys, bureaucracy awaits. I think I'll just nip out for a bit, while you're getting yourselves tied up in red tape...."


The formalities of the case were rather anticlimactic, but they gave Harry time to recover his balance and steady his heartbeat. His body had apparently expected some sort of combat. Quite a bit of paperwork, and a few less-familiar forms of records, emerged from Mr. Chandler-Thorpe's sleek dragonhide briefcase. Harry suspected it was larger on the inside than the outside, or that it gave access to somewhere else entirely -- a file cabinet, perhaps. Certainly the man could not have known to bring an Affirmation of Paternity form to this hearing, nor a Registration of Herem Birth.

Severus read and signed forms while the last, laggard members of the assembly passed, some oddly close, some oddly distant. Harry noted a few supportive smiles, and a few scowls and glares that were anything but, but mostly just curiosity. After both Harry and Severus had wand-signed a final form, they were dismissed. At the door to the corridor, Harry discovered he was trembling. He glanced over at his father. Severus looked similarly unsteady.

"All right?"

"You look ridiculous." Severus reached a hand out and fingered Harry's uneven locks. "It's longer in front than on top! You look like a savage ... or some Muggle boy in London." For all that, he was smiling slightly.

Harry didn't know what to say. Dumbledore, the purple velvet of his robes shimmering in the flickering lights, stopped close in front of them.

"Well! You will be happy to know that bureaucracy has delayed you for longer than the audience was allowed to linger, so all the fine men and women of the press have been forced to make a strategic retreat to the lobby, where they are now lying in wait. Tonks has offered to take you through a side door, so you can avoid them -- unless you would rather be grilled now, and get it over with?"

"No thanks!"

"I, also, would prefer to avoid that." Still, Severus's expression soured slightly as he glanced around for their guide.

"What about Bill and the others?"

"I'm afraid they had to leave with the rest of the spectators -- not Ministry employees, you know -- but they said to convey their farewells. They mentioned something about repairing to Weasleys Wizard Wheezes for more detailed explanations from the twins -- I expect you could join them, should you wish to."

Harry nodded. He wasn't sure he wanted to see them all now. It would be reassuring to hear that Wood and the girls still liked him, but he found he could not really imagine that they wouldn't. And he suspected the atmosphere among them would be more relaxed if they had a bit of time to talk about him with the twins before seeing him again. He decided he was going to write to all of them, thanking them for their help -- and maybe suggesting they get together over the Christmas holiday.

"Now, if you walk up to the next floor, Arthur should be waiting with a lift to bring you up to Level Two. In the meantime, I need to return to Hogwarts. Is there anything either of you would like prepared for your return?"

"Tell Ron and Hermione we won?"

"Of course. Anything else?"

"Other than that, I think I'm okay. Will you being making an announcement at dinner or something?"

Dumbledore regarded him with a slight smile. "I expect you'd rather that than to have all your schoolmates find out from the Daily Prophet?"

"Yes, given that choice, I think I would. Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome, my boy. I'm afraid it is beyond my power to delay the attentions of the press, but I can present the matter to your peers without undue melodrama or gravity."

Harry's laugh came out in an embarrassing tight giggle, but the headmaster merely smiled understandingly and shifted his attention. "And you, Severus?"

"There is a fifth-year boy in my house, Darren Coggleshall, de facto leader of ... of a contingent that will have a vested interest in this development. Please have him come to my office at...." Severus consulted his watch. "When should we be back?"

"You are welcome to take your time, Severus." Dumbledore peered over his glasses at Harry. "Harry, I think, needs his hair trimmed. Shall we say one hour before dinner?"

Severus sniffed. Harry suspected he thought that far too much time.

"Very well. I suppose that will be safe."

Dumbledore nodded. "Good day then, gentlemen." With that, he gestured them out into the corridor. Severus was silent as he and Harry were climbing the stairs to the Department of Mysteries. Harry was restless with uncertainty by the time a lift opened in front of them, revealing Mr. Weasley. His eyes widened slightly before he broke into a smile. Harry wondered what that was about. Had Mr. Weasley never seen him in good robes before?

"Express service to Level Two?"

"Thank you, yes." Severus nodded politely as he stepped inside. Mr. Weasley gave them both another odd glance, then pointed his wand at the lift controls. The golden grill slid shut, giving Harry the impression of being in a large, beautiful cage, and then the lift began to rise. The cool female voice began to speak. "The Atrium, bypassed with emergency code. Penalties for inappro-- Level Seven, bypassed with emergency code. Penal-- Level Six ...." The lift seemed to speed up as they continued. At Level Three, the voice didn't even get through all of "bypassed with emergency code" before needing to announce Level Two.

Harry didn't remember Level Two as clearly as he did the Department of Mysteries, but all the parts of it -- the first, bright corridor with its enchanted windows, the large room crowded with cubicles and busy chatter (in which no-one seemed to notice him), and the shabby corridor beyond --- looked familiar. He remembered Mr. Weasley's office quite clearly, but he had little time to look around it before Mrs. Weasley jumped up from one of the desks and hugged him quickly. "Harry! Your hair!" She held him at arms length to look him over. Harry realized that must have been what had surprised Mr. Weasley, as well.

"Yes," Severus said dryly. "His hair. Do you suppose you could neaten it for him, Molly? He attempted to cut it himself -- no doubt to give me the full infant experience."

Mrs. Weasley covered her mouth for a moment, but her cheeks left no doubt of her hidden smile. "Well, I suppose I could. I expect we have a few minutes before Tonks arrives -- she's terribly overworked, the poor girl! She's going to take you to an Auror's exit -- keep you away from the crowd in front, dear."

The last was addressed to Harry, who smiled uncertainly back at her. Mrs. Weasley seized his hands. "And congratulations, dear! So nice for you to finally have a family." She sent a warning glare at Severus. "And if I hear you are not treating him well...."

"Then I shall, no doubt, receive a scolding that would make old Mrs. Black blush." Severus crossed his arms over his chest. "I have no intention of mistreating the boy, Molly."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, and Severus leaned back against the wall. Harry suppressed a smile, as he thought that, for his father in front of two Weasleys, that was practically relaxed. Severus cleared his throat and darted a sidelong glance at Mrs. Weasley. "I will even permit him to continue to stay at your home, should you still wish to have him as a guest."


Twenty minutes later, Harry's summer holiday at the Burrow had been arranged, and his hair neatened. However, he had chopped it so close to his scalp on top that it required a rather severe cut to get it sufficiently even. Severus snorted and told him he looked like a Muggle soldier.

Harry looked down. "I thought you'd like it."

Severus bent close. "Oh, I did," he whispered. "Both the sentiment and the effect. Still, it was a haircut worthy of a six-year old who has found the kitchen shears."

Harry, who had surveyed the damage in a mirror of Mrs. Weasley's conjuring, had to concede the point.

Severus cleared his throat. "Is there any reason not to go back immediately?"

"Well ... could we go to Diagon Alley?"

Severus's mouth tightened. "You would like to join your friends."

"No." Harry had forgotten about the twins' little party. Was that what that little frown was, then? He thought I wanted to ditch him? "Not now. Let them gossip for a bit. Besides, we should do something together, shouldn't we?" He said the last a bit uncertainly. He had hoped they could do things together publicly, now that their secret was out, but it was possible his father would still prefer to avoid that. He was a very private man. Harry looked down.

"Did you ... did you have any particular ideas?"

"I'd like an ice cream sundae ... in Diagon Alley. Word won't have traveled that far yet, probably, if we go right away."

Severus stared at him. "An ice cream sundae?" He looked away. "I suppose we could. I could use a few supplies not available in the Hogsmeade apothecary, myself." His shoulders tensed. "No. It would be too dangerous. The Dar-- You-Know-Who will be trying to kill me, now, as well as you."

Harry frowned. "Volde--"

"Harry!"

"Tom has been trying to kill me most of my life. For once, I have more experience than you do." Harry knew his voice was unsuitably fierce, but he could not modulate it. "Here is how it works: you cannot stop doing things. He is not all-seeing, and certainly not all-powerful. You need to continue to do things, or he has won without a fight."

His father's mouth twitched. "So eating an ice cream sundae is an act of ... political defiance?"

"An act of saying we will not be bullied."

Severus coughed. "Well then." He glanced over at Harry. "Does he still offer an Unlikely Flavor of the Month? I recall the Apricot Sage was surprisingly tasty."


The End.


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