“Potter,” Severus snapped as he spotted the trio in the hallway. He glared down at the boy in question. “You will accompany me this instant.”

               Harry blinked, sharing a confused look with his friends as he stepped away from them. With that, Severus turned and began walking down a flight of stairs, Harry at his heel.

               “Am I in trouble, sir?” Harry asked, running to keep up.

               Severus noted and slowed his pace slightly, willing his temper to calm a bit. He had so much to do and just a week to do it in. He raised an eyebrow at the boy as they walked for the entrance. “Should you be?” he asked.

               “I don’t think I did anything,” Harry frowned as they walked outside, tightening his cloak around his shoulders. “Where are we going?”

               “Diagon Alley,” Severus answered. “Where you will stay at my side this time. We have some shopping to do.”

               “We?” Harry kicked at a stone as they walked toward Hogwarts’ gates.

               “Yes, we.” Severus took a deep breath. “I spoke with Minister Fudge this morning.”

               “Really? Is he going to let me sign the papers again?”

               “I don’t want him anywhere near you, so the papers are out of the question.”

               “Oh,” Harry’s face fell. “So, you’re not applying for guardianship now?”

               “No.” Severus looked down at Harry as he walked down a narrow path. Harry’s face couldn’t look more distraught, but the boy was trying not to let it show. “I plan to adopt you.”

               Harry’s eyes shot up to meet Severus’s, a grin slowly spreading across his face. “You’re serious? That’s brilliant, professor. So I would be like . . . you’re son?”

               “That is what adoption means,” Severus stopped abruptly on the path they were on, Harry catching himself from walking ahead. Severus gave the boy a serious look. “I have run into several obstacles with the Ministry and the only way around all of them is to blood adopt you. It is an old ritual and I do not believe there has been a blood adoption in nearly a century. However, no one has ever thought to make this ritual illegal until now, so we have a week to complete it.”

               “How long does it usually take?”

               “Ten minutes.”

               “Oh! Then we have plenty of time what’s the big hurry for?”

               “The “big hurry” is for all the equipment we will need, half of which are no longer in production. We need to track down very specific objects that we need for this ritual, as well as find someone who will be willing to cast the binding spell at the end that would make as inseparable as father and son and we have one week to do everything. I need you to understand how serious this is, young man. If this all fails, then my chances of obtaining guardianship or ever adopting you are gone, if I do not find myself in Azkaban for this, that is.”

               Harry blinked up at Severus, then nodded his head, “I understand. What’s Azkaban?”

               “A prison.”

               “Oh. Err, and this blood adoption – how does it work?”

               Severus reached out and grabbed Harry’s arm, pulling the boy against him, then apparated to Diagon Alley. Being a Sunday, it wasn’t as busy as before the start of term, but there was a decent crowd.

               “You will stay close to me.”

               “Yes, sir. Professor! What about my appearance?”

               “You will be fine. You are here looking for the correct potions’ equipment with your annoyed potions professor because you were too incapable of collecting the right pewter cauldron and melted the one you had in class. How’s that?”

               “Sounds like something you would do,” Harry muttered.

               “Come, Potter.”

               Severus kept a hand on Harry’s shoulder, steering him through the crowd to an antique shop just on the border of Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley. His grip on Harry’s shoulder tightened as he said, “I am serious, Harry, you will stay with me at all times, is that clear?”

               “Okay, it’s clear.”

               “Mind your cheek.”

               Severus guided Harry inside the antique shop where he finally released the boy. There was no one else in the store, even the store keeper was absent from sight. Severus began eyeing shelves of old urns and cauldrons and counters of clocks and knick knacks. He heard Harry gasp at the sight of knives in a glass compartment. Severus walked over to where Harry was, looking down at the knives. Some were centuries old, the designs on the handles emphasizing the Middles Ages era, while other may have just been a couple hundred years old, their modern look clashing with the older ones.

               “Professor.” Harry looked up at Severus. “You never answered my question about how blood adoptions work.”

               “You know about the blood wards surrounding your Aunt’s house?”

               Harry nodded.

               “That is a blood shield charm, one Professor Dumbledore completed to strengthen the bond of blood between Petunia and your mother after Lily’s sacrifice for you, creating a safe haven at your aunt’s house where no harm could come to you, ever. In the same sense, the blood adoption will strengthen the bond between us by way of mingling our blood and casting a similar blood binding charm. The blood wards at your Aunt’s will fall and form new around my home, so that no harm will come to you there. Does that make sense?”

               “Yeah, I guess.” Harry looked at the knives. “Do we need one of these?”

               “As a matter of fact, we do.”

               “Oh,” Harry made a face at the knives. “So, we have to cut ourselves and share our blood?”

               “It will be no more than a prick, but yes, that is what we will do.”

               “Oh.” Harry was silent for a few seconds, then frowned up at Severus. “Isn’t that how diseases spread?”

               “Are you implying something, Potter?” Severus raised an eyebrow at the bow.

               “No-no, I just . . . err, never mind.”

               “I can assure you that I am disease free, thank you, as I’m sure you are.”

               There was a loud bang, suddenly, and a gruff, heavier man stepped through a door in the back of the store. He walked over to Severus and Harry. “My alarms alerted me to some customers,” he said. “How may I help you?”

               “We need to test these bonding knives,” Severus said, tapping on the glass above a section of five rusty looking knives that had black leather straps on the end of the red handles.

               The man looked over at Harry, tugging on the end of his beard briefly. “So, I see,” he nodded. “Good luck to you both.”

               The man tapped his wand to the glass, a hole forming for the man to reach in and pull out the five knives. He waved his wand over them once more, and the rusty look faded to reveal a black blade underneath. Severus picked up the first, studying the handle’s design – a unicorn rearing. He held the handle in his grip and the black leather straps wrapped themselves tightly around his wrist. He removed the straps and held the knife out to Harry, who took it from him with shaking hands, holding the handle as carefully as he could.

               “Why these knives?” Harry asked, waiting for the straps to wrap around his wrist. They remained limp.

               “They are bonders,” the man spoke, watching intently. “In any type of blood bonding rituals, it is recommended to have a knife that bonds to both parties. If everything in the ritual bonds to the two performing it, the success rate of the blood magic will be that much greater. The animal symbols on the handle usually represent a quality found in both of you.”

               Severus watched Harry study the unicorn, but the knife had not bonded to the boy. With a sigh, Severus picked up the next one. A snake wrapped itself around the handle. Glancing at Harry, Severus smirked at the irony of it if this blade bonded to them both. He held the handle and the black leather straps tightened around his hand in a death grip – a strong bond.

               Severus tugged at the straps to remove them and handed the knife to Harry, who seemed more eager this time to take the knife. He held the handle in his hand, but the straps did not move. He pouted and looked at Severus.

               “How come they all bond to you?”

               “The knives,” Severus answered, picking up the next one – a phoenix, “look for the slightest trace of relation between the animal and myself. If it exists to some extent, it’ll bond – and almost everyone has some quality of what these creatures symbolize. The challenge is if that quality is of the same measure in the person who holds it next.” The leather straps of this knife loosely wrapped around Severus’s wrist, and he didn’t need to fight to free himself. He handed the knife to Harry, but the straps did not move.

               Severus sighed and picked up the next knife, whose straps tightened painfully around him. He hissed as he tugged at the straps to remove them. It took him a moment to pry the straps off him and he handed the knife to Harry, who yelped as the straps constricted his wrist. He tried to pry them off, then looked pleading at Severus, who reached down to help remove the straps. Once Harry was free, Severus looked at the animal and rolled his eyes.

               “Of course,” he muttered.

               “What is it?” Harry asked, rising on his toes to look.

               Severus held out the handle, revealing the engraved design of a lion. Harry smiled and smirked up at Severus. The man ignored him and held the knife out to the man. “We’ll take this one.”

               After paying for the knife, they left the antique shop with the knife enclosed in a special case. Severus hid it in an inner robe pocket as he led Harry down the street of Diagon Alley to a candle store, which Harry never knew existed.

               “Welcome to Magical Scents,” a lady greeted, as they entered the store.

               Harry began to cough, and his nose scrunched up as he entered at Severus’s side. Severus patted Harry’s back, though he knew it would be futile. It took him a few years alone to learn to walk inside without making a face at all the scents. He wasn’t sure how anyone handled such stores like this – women seemed to fair the best, as if they enjoyed all the smells.

               “Anything I can help you find, gentlemen?”

               “Ritual candles,” Severus said.

               “Oh,” the woman made a displeased face. She looked between Severus and Harry with a suspicious look. “What for?”

               “If that concerned you, I would have told you.”

               The woman huffed and pointed to the far back. “We don’t represent that part of the store. It’s been here long before we were.” With that, the woman walked off to help the next person walking in with a big smile.

               Severus led Harry to the back of the store. The color scheme changed dramatically from bright and overwhelming to a neutral tan. Severus read the names and instructions of the many different candles. He was surprised how some shady businesses managed to get away by hiding in such commercialistic stores. This place should belong in Knockturn. There were candles of all shapes and sizes, used for all kinds of rituals. Some for marriages, some for love, some for abortions, some for sudden death . . .

               “Hey, Professor, look at this one,” Harry said, reaching for a candle that spiraled around.

               Severus quickly slapped Harry’s hand away from it, startling the boy. He pointed a finger at Harry as he said in a low tone, “Do not touch any of them.”

               “Okay,” Harry said, his cheeks reddening as he glanced to see if anyone had seen. He cradled his hand and rubbed at it. “Sorry.”

               Severus glanced at the one Harry had been reaching for. The name: Cloud Nine. How lovely. He looked back at Harry. “These are not like the knives, Harry. And I do not know what they all do.”

               “Sorry,” Harry repeated.

               “Can I help you?” A lady said, walking towards them from the entrance. “I hope you didn’t plan on stealing any while I was out.

               “No, ma’am,” Severus said, politely. “I am looking for the pink candle, I think it’s called Child Adoption or something along those lines?”

               “What form of adoption? I have three for different purposes.”

               “Blood adoption,” Severus kept his voice low.

               The woman smiled, revealing yellowed, crooked teeth, her grey eyes sparkling. “Haven’t heard anyone wanting to do that in a long time. Problems with child custody, hmm? Or did you kidnap that laddie, there?”

               “None of the above,” Severus said. “Do you have the candle?”

               The woman walked to the shelves and summoned a ladder to climb up to a higher shelf. Using her wand, she levitated the candle into a carrying bag, packing paper around it to keep it steady. “There you are. That will be fifteen galleons.”

               “Fifteen?” Severus snapped. “Most of these are hardly above seven.”

               “Circumstances changed things.”

               Growling under his breath, Severus paid the woman and dragged Severus out of the suffocating shop.

               “Sir,” Harry patted on Severus’s arm for his attention. “Is what we are doing legal?”

               “Are you getting the impression that it is not?”

               “Well, kind of.”

               “Blood adoptions were a very traditional form of reinforcing the family bond between child and adult, even if it was the child’s own parents. But it was mostly used by stepparents, foster parents, and the likes. However, as the Ministry came into existence with an easier and less painful way of adopting, what we had tried to do, fewer and fewer people used this type of adoption. And then it began developing darker purposes – kidnappers used it to get away with what they were doing. Parents who had divorced tried to use it to gain custody of their children. The bonds the charm created were weaker and often times disastrous because of how it was being used.”

               “So, why are we doing it?”

               “Because it had pure origins. You cannot judge something as dark by the way it was used by the wrong people with awful intentions. I wish to adopt you as my own, do you wish for the same?”

               “Yeah,” Harry smiled, leaning into Severus as he walked at the man’s side. “I would like that very much.

               “Good. We are both in agreement.” Severus paused outside the last shop. “Now, for my least favorite part of this ritual.”

               Severus watched as Harry frowned at the wizarding clothing store. The boy looked up at Severus with a titled head.

“As tradition,” Severus said, “which I swear was started by a child, we must wear our favorite colors.”

               “That doesn’t sound too bad,” Harry said,

               “No,” Severus shook his head. “But that means that you wear my favorite colors and I wear yours. It helps to strengthen the bond once the magic is complete.”

               Severus felt very uneasy as Harry’s face morphed from confusion to outright sadistic with that large grin. The boy snickered. Severus narrowed his eyes at Harry. “You torture me, and I’ll torture you.”

               “But that won’t strengthen our bond, will it?” Harry smiled innocently.

               Severus hummed, then said, “very well.”

               And Severus found himself sneering at his image in the mirror in the changing rooms. He crossed his arms. These just had to be Harry’s favorite colors. He was wearing a red silky robe with gold trim. He looked ridiculous. This was just not his style. He could just vomit right now.

               The brushing aside of curtains had him looking to his right, and he smiled as Harry stood at his side in front of the mirror, looking himself over. The boy wore a green silky robe, with a darker green trim. Harry studied himself and smiled. He looked up at Severus.

               “I like this,” he said.

               “I’m glad one of us will be content.”

               Harry laughed. “I think you look like a Gryffindor. You should wear that to my next game.”

               “In your dreams,” Severus said, ruffling Harry’s hair. “Get dressed back in your clothes so I can pay for these, and then will have some lunch.”

               Harry smiled and went back behind his curtain, Severus going back into his own changing area. Almost everything was all set. He just needed someone to perform the charm during the ritual. And who better than Dumbledore?