It didn’t take him long to pack as most of his belongings were already in one of the two trunks he had brought with him from Arabella’s house. All he had to do was transfer the appropriate items of his new muggle clothes to the new chest, place all the “Harry Potter” items like his photo albums in his old school chest and viola! Done.

Well, almost, anyway. He still to deal with the infamous journal. Grabbing the roll of parchment he had been using for notes, he began to copy down the last entries in the old journal his mum, Lily, had found over fifteen years ago. Unfortunately, the journal was protected against every copying spell Bella, Severus, Sirius knew and the more obscure ones Dumbledore tried to teach him copied the information, but only he had been able to see the text therefore rendering it useless. Transcribing the entire thing by hand had been their only option. An hour later, Harry was still engrossed in the journal; the sharp knock on his door startled him, resulting in a jagged line being drawn across his painstakingly neat notes.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. With a sigh, he called insolently, “Come in,” as he tried to repair the damage to his paper. Looking up, he saw his father gazing at him questioningly, his eyes narrowed slightly, as if to convey his disapproval of Harry’s tone of voice. “Sorry, sir,” he muttered self-consciously, “I was just trying to finish these notes on the journal.”

Severus smiled slightly, nodding his head briefly to convey his acceptance of Harry’s apology before moving further into the room. Silently, the man held out his hand for the notes. Harry then watched the brief look of surprise that crossed the man’s face.

“Well done. If you had been this diligent with your potions work, you would have received a much higher grade.”

Harry felt his forehead scrunch up and his face contort in an expression that clearly demonstrated how incredulous he believed the statement to be. A small, sardonic smile appeared on Severus’ face as their eyes met.

“Perhaps you are right,” he said, “I would still have found fault with your work.” He paused for a minute and then continued, “However, now that I have a small hint of what you are capable of, I will expect better from you.”

Harry wasn’t sure whether to grin or groan. He had to admit to himself that the small flash of pride he had seen in his father’s face made him feel good – special – worthy. Before Sirius, he had never had anyone he wanted to be proud of him; he had long ago given up on earning the Dursley’s respect or love.

“Your Aunt is here,” Severus said abruptly. “I came to see if you wanted me to cast some temporary charms on you so you look as you did before.”

Harry stared at the man in shock. He couldn’t believe his aunt was here, though he supposed he should have guessed she would be here sooner than later – they still had to do that custody thing. He wasn’t sure he wanted to face her shrieking at his changed appearance or deal with her rejection again. He was prepared to tell his father yes when he felt an unanticipated sense of regret at the decision. While his father’s stance was rigid, it was no more so than usual; he wore his expressionless mask and yet Harry felt like he would be letting his father down by say yes to his offer. Harry took a deep breath and then said, “No, sir. I am fine.”

His father nodded. After a moment, he stepped back and gestured toward the door. Bracing himself, Harry preceded Severus out of his room. As soon as he entered the common room, he spotted his aunt sitting on the couch, her posture ramrod straight. He could see the tension in her shoulders. She must have felt his eyes on her because she turned slowly until her eyes met his. At first, there was no recognition then her eyes grew wide and she jumped to her feet.

“What have you done?” she exclaimed, her eyes never leaving Harry.

“Nothing, Aunt Petunia. This is how I really look. Mum put some charms on me when I was an infant to make me look like Dad – James,” Harry tried to explain. “That’s why, when you cut my hair, it always grew back overnight.” He tried to force himself to relax but didn’t succeed until he felt his father step closer to him. He watched his aunt as her eyes flitted between him and his father as if trying to work something out. Out of nowhere, she nodded as if accepting what he said with no more thought.

“Wait here,” he heard his father say softly into his ear, “I will get Bella and Sirius.”

When he looked back at his aunt, her eyes were wide with alarm. He heard her anxious mutter – “Sirius?”

“He’s innocent, Aunt Petunia. He won’t harm you,” Harry said, trying to sound kind and understanding when he was more than a little annoyed.

Minutes later, Severus returned with Arabella, Sirius, Remus, Hermione and Dumbledore.

“Ah, Mrs. Dursley,” Dumbledore said in a extremely friendly voice, “I expect things are going well for you and that my friends are not too much of a bother.” Harry looked questioningly at Dumbledore, then at the others. Only Hermione seemed as perplexed as he felt. The Headmaster must have noticed his confusion and smiled at him kindly before explaining, “My granddaughter and several order members are taking turns playing decoy for you; providing cover for your absence from anyone, including muggle authorities, that may check up on you. The order members take turns posing as Mrs. Figg and Harry Potter’s tutor, while my granddaughter poses as you – under glamourie, of course.”

Harry nodded to suggest he understood although he couldn’t figure out why anyone would want to pose as him in the Dursley home. He could almost hear his Uncle Vernon ranting just thinking about it. Although, he did get a twisted sense of satisfaction and pleasure knowing a full-grown wizard was spending quite a bit of time at the Dursley’s.

“So, what do I have to do?” Petunia asked nervously.

Arabella stepped forward, smiling kindly. She reached out, laying her hand on his aunt’s shoulder; Harry could see Petunia visibly relax and he had to wonder if that was Arabella’s doing. “It is quite simple really. You simply need to take Harry’s hands, state your full name, biological and then legal relationship to him and then place both of his hands in mine. While all three of our hands our joined, simply state that you are relinquish custody and all legal and moral responsibility for him to his godmother, Arabella Polaris Amalthea Black Snape Figg.”

“That’s it?” Petunia questioned.

“Essentially, at least on your part. I will take care of the rest.” Bella replied. Turning toward Harry, she summoned him.

He smiled at he walked toward his aunt, half afraid to believe that it was finally going to happen; somehow this made it seem so much more real, irreversible. Petunia Dursley stepped forward and took both his hands in hers. Harry had to force down a shiver at how cold and clammy they felt against his own.

Nervously, her eyes darting occasionally toward Arabella, his aunt said, “I am Petunia Evans Dursley. This boy’s, Harry Potter’s, aunt on his mother’s side and legal guardian.” Arabella stepped forward and Petunia placed Harry’s hands into Arabella’s outstretched ones, leaving hers resting on top. “I relinquish custody and all legal and moral responsibility to his godmother, Arabella Pol . . .” Petunia paused, her face squishing up while she tried to remember, “Arabella Polaris Amalthea Black Snape Figg.” She spoke slowly, her voice uncertain until she reached the final name.

Arabella’s soft voice responded immediately, “I accept custody and legal and moral responsibility for Harry.” Harry felt a tingling warmth wash through his hands as soon as his godmother said his name. He would have thought it was in his imagination had his aunt not jumped in shock, snatching her hands away as if scalded. Arabella chuckled softly, then turned her head toward his father, who quickly stepped forward and placed his hands where Petunia’s had been. “Severus, I ask you to share with me custody of my godson, Harry.”

A small smile spread across Severus’ face and Harry’s heart began to hammer in his chest as he waited for the man to speak. Finally, he did. “I, Severus Snape, gladly accept the offer of shared custody of Harry.” Harry felt the smile that curled his lips and the warmth that filled his body. Part of him wanted to step forward and embrace the man, but he couldn’t force himself to act. Somehow, the action just didn’t seem right.

What happened next surprised him. Severus and Arabella both dropped their hands and Arabella stepped back from him. His father took a step closer and grasped Harry’s face between his hands. He could feel the outpouring of magical energy washing over him, holding him tightly in place. His father’s voice was low – hushed. Harry couldn’t figure out what he was saying, it sounded almost like a chant; whatever the language was, it was rough yet oddly familiar and comforting at the same time. The more his father repeated the words, the stronger and warmer the energy around him became. The stronger the magic became, the more he felt like something was being stripped away from him – something he wasn’t sure he wanted to lose. Slowly, the feeling of loss was replaced by an almost overwhelming sense of being loved, of belonging somewhere and to someone. His father’s words finally stopped and Harry could feel the energy being to dissipate. His father stepped back and dropped his hands; the air felt cold against his cheeks where the Severus’ hands had rested just moments before. An involuntary shiver ran through his body. His father spoke again, staring him dead in the eye – not that Harry understood him. It was the same words – spell - he’d been reciting earlier. His father paused, then smiled slightly as Bella moved over to him, wrapping her arms around Severus waist.

“I reclaim you, my son. You are flesh of my flesh and blood of my blood. Never again shall we be parted. I take you back into my family and into my home. You are my child. I revoke my word to the other and take back what is mine.” His father’s words were softly spoken; there was a warmth and sincerity to them that Harry was not used to hearing.

Suddenly, he understood what had happened, understood the sense of loss he had felt. His father had rescinded James’ adoption of him. He didn’t know what to think at first; all his emotions conflicted. Part of him wanted to cry for joy at the irrefutable evidence of his father’s affection – that he was wanted. Part of him cried for the loss of his Dad - James Potter. He was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he almost missed his aunt’s shriek at the five wands suddenly pointed at her and the sound of one spell being sent hurtling toward her.

“Obliviate!” Five voices said at once.

Harry jumped, startled at the sound. Arabella was the first to move forward and catch the confused woman.

“What happened?” his aunt asked.

“We did the custody spell. I think the magic confused you a bit.” Bella said. His aunt seemed to accept her answer, almost immediately shaking off Arabella’s assistance and returning to her usual, haughty self.

“Mrs. Dursley, if you are ready, I will see you to London.” Professor Dumbledore took the opportunity to say.

“Thank you,” she replied curtly. Harry was surprised when she turned to face him and her expression softened, “Good Luck, Harry.”

“Th . . Thank you, Aunt Petunia,” Harry stuttered, taken aback. The woman nodded once and then walked away from him, following Dumbledore toward the tunnel. He felt an inexplicable sadness as she disappeared from view. With a smile he hoped looked happy, he excused himself and headed toward his room. He had a sudden urge to return to his room and retrieve his photo albums and other keepsakes from his infancy.