Professor Snape muttered a password to the gargoyle outside of the headmaster’s office, something about sugar quills and daffodils. Harry was hardly paying attention, as he was so excited to be seeing Headmaster Dumbeldore’s office once again. It had been over a year since Professor Snape had taken him here for the first time. They’d returned to the castle the day before term resumed to settle into the professor’s quarters at Hogwarts, though Harry himself would only be spending one night there before having to return to the Hufflepuff dorms. He was already feeling a little homesick about it, but shook the feeling off as they entered the office.

“Severus!” Professor Dumbledore greeted jovially. “It is good to see you again. And Harry,” the headmaster addressed him with a kindly smile. “It is marvelous to see you here as well.”

Harry smiled back tentatively. “Hullo, Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“How are you doing, my boy?” Harry knew that he wasn’t imagining the look of pity in his eyes.
He shuffled his feet awkwardly, glancing up at his guardian as he did so.

“I’m alright, sir.”

Professor Dumbledore nodded, once, twice, before focusing his attention back on Professor Snape. “Well, Severus? What brings you to my office today? And please, do sit.”

Professor Snape straightened out his cloak before going to sit in the chair on the right hand side of headmaster’s desk, and Harry copied his movements in the opposite seat, minus the cloak dramatics as he was only wearing jeans. “It is customary for the professors to meet with you and go over lesson plans before term starts, is it not?”

“Yes, yes, it is. You usually make this visit much sooner in the summer, however, and here we are on August 31st.”

“Well as you know, I had new obligations to attend to this particular summer.”

Harry swung his legs back and forth as he interestedly looked around all of the oddities and nicknacks in the headmaster’s office, halfway tuning out the beginning of the adults’ subtle argument.

“Yes…” Professor Dumbledore mused. He opened a desk drawer and took out a newspaper. “Interesting front page in the prophet a few days ago. I was rather surprised by it, actually.”

“I’m not sure why you would be,” Professor Snape responded stiffly. “It was a fairly obvious potential outcome that you should have been quite privy to, given our previous conversations on the matter.”

“Alas, I suppose it slipped my mind. I do wish that you had come to me to discuss it first, however.”

“There was nothing to discuss.”

“Severus… this was a rather big decision.”

“And I was able to make it all on my own like the big boy that I am. I’m surprised at you, Albus. I would’ve thought you’d been thrilled by the prospect seeing how completely enamored you were with the previous arrangement.”

Harry glanced up, then, wondering what exactly they were arguing about and why. They seemed to be speaking in something of a code as they usually did, so Harry leaned forward a little to see what the front page news they’d been referring to was all about.

And… was horrified.

“Is that… us?” Harry asked weakly, staring at the paper featuring a picture of Professor Snape and him, appearing to be from last week when they were in Diagon Alley. The photographer had even caught the bit where Harry had been holding his hand and he flushed at the idea of strangers and friends alike seeing him holding someone’s hand like an absolute baby. The headline read “FORMER DEATH EATER ADOPTS BOY WHO LIVED.” It was similar to what Mr. Malfoy had said to him that day and caused shivers to go up and down his spine.

“Yes,” Professor Snape replied quietly. “I hadn’t realized we were being followed in Diagon Alley. A mistake on my part…”


“And a costly one at that. This is exactly why I wanted you to come to me, Severus… We could have dealt with this before it spiraled out of control.”

“How exactly did you intend to deal with it, Albus?” Professor Snape snapped. “By talking me out of it?”

“No, no, I merely…”

“Good, because it would have been a fruitless effort. You are not in charge of this boy any longer,” Professor Snape said. “He’s my responsibility, and more than that, my priority. I have no regrets.”

“There may yet come a time where you do, and in the near future” the headmaster said, flicking his eyes toward Harry before giving the other professor a pointed look. “I just hope you’ll know how to weather the storm when it arrives.”

Professor Snape stood, slapping some parchment down on the desk as he did so. “I believe I know how to care for my son well enough. Thank you for your time, Headmaster. Come, Harry.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. Giving the headmaster an awkward little wave before he departed, he shot across the room to follow his guardian out the door. Professor Snape was doing his weird strut thing again, but Harry wasted no time in attempting to mimic him as he might have done earlier in the day. “S- so everyone knows now, I guess? About the adoption?”

Professor Snape nodded.

“I- I guess that’s my fault, then. Pretty stupid of me, really… Even if we weren’t being followed, the Malfoys were sure to blab, right?”

“Does it bother you?” Professor Snape asked, stopping abruptly and nearly causing Harry to bump into him.

“Does what bother me?”

“The news being out. Being publicly associated with me.”

“What? No, of course not! I’m glad I don’t have to keep it secret, in fact,” Harry said, jutting his chin up with pride.

“Then no mistakes were made. I’ve no shame in you and you none in me. It doesn’t matter what other people may have to say about it.”

“Why was Professor Dumbledore so upset about it, then?”

Professor Snape sighed. “I suppose his arrogance is born out of worry. He knows how people will react, how people are reacting… He wants to spare us from that, it seems.”

Harry bit his lip. “But why do people have a problem with it? Don’t they want me to be happy?”

Professor Snape hesitated. “It’s more that they are concerned about who you might be happy with.”

“Why do people have a problem with you?

The professor snorted. “I have something of a reputation, Harry, I’m sure you realize. I’m not exactly the most stellar candidate to petition for your adoption.”

“Well you’re the perfect one as far as I’m concerned,” Harry declared boldly. “I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re my father now and that’s all that matters.”

Professor Snape inclined his head in acceptance before changing the subject.

***

Unsurprisingly, the news of Harry’s adoption was the talk of the welcoming feast.

Even the timid first year Puffs were listening intently with eager eyes as Harry confirmed to his housemates that yes, Professor Snape had adopted him, and no, he hadn’t been forced into agreeing to it.

“He’s my father now and I’m glad for it,” Harry stated proudly.

“You went from not even wanting to call him your guardian to father awfully fast,” Hannah commented, causing Harry to flush.

“Y-yeah, well… I haven’t had the greatest experiences with guardians. But I’ve never been adopted before, so that’s cool.”

“So he’s like… your dad now?” Justin asked hesitantly.

Harry shrugged. “I guess. I don’t call him that, though.”

“Why?” asked Ernie.

“That would be weird,” Harry said, nose scrunching. “Besides, it’s just a name. I don’t think that it’s very important in the grand scheme of things.”

“I dunno,” Susan said. “If he’s really your dad now, you should probably call him that. I mean you didn’t even like your relatives but you still referred to them as aunt and uncle, didn’t you?”

“Y-yeah, but that’s different. They… raised me.”

Susan snorted. “And did a stand up job of it. C’mon, Har, I bet he’d love it if you called him something besides Professor Snape. It’s just so formal!”

“You have met Professor Snape, right? He’s so… you know. I can’t see that going well.”

“Yeah, but, like, he’s so different with you,” Wayne said. “You could totally get away with it.”

“Maybe,” Harry mumbled. He really hadn’t considered the idea of calling Professor Snape anything other than Professor Snape. It seemed weird and disrespectful. But now it seemed like all of his housemates were saying it was weird not to, so maybe he’d been wrong about it. What if Professor Snape was expecting Harry to do as such? What if Harry was hurting his feelings by not doing so…?

Harry pushed his mash around on his plate, glancing up at the staff table before quickly looking back down. Professor Snape had been looking in his direction, too, and for some reason Harry suddenly felt too ashamed to face him.

***

The first class of the day was Transfiguration, followed by Potions. Harry never understood why most of his classmates dreaded the class so much, but Harry could relate that day. It was the professor that they didn’t want to see, and while most likely for very different reasons, Harry didn’t much want to face Professor Snape that day, either.

He felt nervous, which made him feel a little sick at his stomach. The idea of disemboweling dead things in this state wasn’t terribly appealing, but luckily Susan offered to do the dirty work today while Harry did the reading and stirring. So Harry didn’t have to worry too much about sicking up…

Still… When Professor Snape stopped by Harry’s desk with Susan, inspecting their Potion and offering up his usual not so constructive criticism, Harry had to work to steady his breathing. Professor Snape gave them a couple of tips to improve the potency of it before turning back toward his own desk.

Harry knew exactly what he was going to do before he did it as he had been planning it since the night before, but that still didn’t mean that it was a well thought out or intelligent move in any way.

“Thanks, Dad.”

You could hear a pin drop. Harry was holding his breath, Susan went stiff beside him, everyone was staring, and Professor Snape had paused in his steps completely. A long moment passed before he continued on, not even glancing back at Harry.

Harry nearly wanted to die from embarrassment right there. He well and truly thought that he just might.

Well ripping off the band-aid certainly hadn’t helped to ease the sickness. He hadn’t been reprimanded, but he hadn’t been remunerated, either. Harry bit his lip. What did that mean? Was Professor Snape cool with Dad or should he try something else?

Was Harry even cool with calling him dad?

***

“No way, no freaking way.” Zacharias, the prat, was laughing.

“I can’t believe you actually did that,” Wayne hissed once they’d exited the classroom.

“You’re the one who told me to do it!” Harry exclaimed, arms wrapped tightly around his uneasy stomach.

“Not in class!”

“Even if you normally called him that, he’d probably still want you to call him professor in class,” Hannah put in.

“Well, maybe you should have mentioned that beforehand!”

“We didn’t think we had to, it seemed fairly obvious. Geez, Harry, you’ve got yourself into a right mess now,” Zacharias said, shaking his head.

“Oh, come on, Zach, you’re freaking Harry out. It’s not that bad,” Megan interjected defensively.

“He’ll live,” Zacharias responded, rolling his eyes.

“I dunno, I thought he’d sick up on me for awhile there,” Susan admitted unhelpfully.

“Yeah, he was looking a little green,” Justin agreed. “And well, I guess he still is, really.”

“Oh. My God,” Harry gritted out, turning to face the wall. “Please shut up.” He considered banging his head against the wall in an attempt to make it stop screaming inside, but it was stone, thus would probably do a lot more damage than the sheet rock of the Dursleys home had, so probably a bad idea. He opted just to rest his forehead there for a minute instead.

A hand touched his shoulder, and Harry found himself flinching before he could stop himself. He blinked his wary eyes open to see Leanne’s concerned looking ones. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’ve just made an absolute arse of myself,” Harry said, closing his eyes tightly once more. “Professor Snape probably already thinks I’m a nut case, and I made it a hundred times worse. I’ll be lucky if he ever speaks to me again.”

“I highly doubt that he’s upset with you, Harry,” Leanne said. “He would’ve asked you to stay after class, if he was mad he wouldn’t just let it go. I think you’re working yourself up over nothing. It’s just a name.”

“It’s not just a name,” Harry disagreed vehemently. “It’s like… what if you suddenly started calling your parents by their first name? It’s that level of weird. only worse because at least that‘s a name they’re familiar with and not just some misplaced noun.”

“I think it’s highly dependent on the context,” Susan murmured. “We’ve known our guardians our whole lives. It’s not like we ever had to debate on what to call them. You’ve only just gotten adopted. It’s natural for there to be an adjustment period and awkward moments during it.”

Harry didn’t know why Susan’s logical honesty always took him by surprise. She was clearly very intelligent and not afraid to show it, amongst her friends at least, but somehow he kept forgetting.

“If it bothers you this much, maybe you should just talk to him about it,” Hannah offered after a moment of quiet.

“Yeah, mate, we didn’t mean to pressure you into this,” Ernie said sheepishly. “You shouldn’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I don’t know what I’m comfortable with,” Harry mumbled dejectedly. “I want him to be my dad, but calling him that is just… weird.”

“Then don’t call him that,” Susan shrugged. “Call him Professor Snape for the rest of your life, it’s just a term of reference and it really doesn’t matter. But you really should consider talking to him about it, if for nothing but your own peace of mind.”

Megan nodded. “He probably couldn’t care less what you call him, I’m sure he just wants you to feel comfortable.”

“Y-yeah,” Harry conceded, rubbing his face. “I don’t know why I’m so… I don’t know. I guess I should just t-talk to him about it.”

***

“Dad, Dad, Dad…” Harry muttered to himself, glaring at the ground as he walked down the corridor in the dungeons. He shook his head. “No, it’s just not… Father? Uck, too Malfoyish… Papa? That makes him sound like a grandpa…”

He walked into something solid, and because his life really felt like a corny teen drama sometimes, he instantly knew who it was.

“Er… hey… Dad.”

Professor Snape looked a mixture of both concerned and trying very hard not to smile. It wasn’t that unusual of a look considering the kind of things that tended to come out of Harry’s mouth.

“Hello, Harry,” the man greeted calmly. “I was just going to my quarters. Would you care to join me?”

Harry nodded. “Um, yeah, that’s actually where I was headed, too.”

“Something on your mind?” Professor Snape inquired as he turned in the proper direction, barely concealing the know-it-all lift of his brow.

“Sort of,” Harry said, running his fingertips along the stone walls as they walked. Professor Snape nodded as though he agreed, and they reached the quarters sooner than Harry might have hoped.

“Sit,” the professor said, waving towards the couch as he went into the kitchen. “Would you like a refreshment?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah that would be good.”

Professor Snape disappeared just long enough for Harry to begin panicking again. Yes, he’d very much like a refreshment, to refresh this whole situation wouldn’t be a bad idea. Why had he ever thought calling him Dad was a good idea? It was horrifically awkward and embarrassing for all involved. There wasn’t even anything to discuss at this point, Harry was definitely sticking to ‘Professor Snape’ from here on out.

And yet, when the professor returned from the kitchen, handing Harry a mug filled with a warm liquid…

“Thanks, um, Father.”

“Are you quite alright, Mr. Potter?” Professor Snape asked, practically counteracting the familiar title by pulling out the formalities.

“Uhh, yeah,” Harry lied, forcing himself to take a sip of the drink. “This is good, what is it?”

“A slow-acting poison. The counter antidote is an ounce of self-preservation.”

Harry rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. “Okay, don’t tell me then.”

Professor Snape raised a brow. “You’ve never had cider before?”

“Er, no,” Harry said, setting the glass down quickly. “Isn’t that, uh… alcoholic?”

“It can be. Yours is not.”

“And yours?” Harry asked smartly.

Professor Snape smirked. “We’re not drinking the exact same beverage, no.”

“Oh,” Harry said, not exactly having been expecting the upfront truth. “Well, can I try some of yours?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t think much.”

“That much is obvious. Are you seventeen?”

“No…”

“Then no, you absolutely may not try it. And if I hear of you so much as tasting a single drop of liquor before you reach that age…”

“I understand,” Harry said quickly. “I don’t really want to, anyway. Uncle Vernon used to drink a lot and it made him even more stupid than usual, and Gary sometimes too which was always pretty weird after seeing him drink a Capri-Sun and um…”

“Do you have an issue with me drinking?” Professor Snape asked then, setting his own glass down as well and looking vaguely disturbed.

“No, no, I don’t mind, you’re not, um, well, you know, and um, I’m just rambling…”

“I can’t imagine why,” Professor Snape said with sarcasm, confusing Harry who tilted his head.

“What do you mean, Prof- uh, I mean, Pa…Pa?”

Harry’s mind was screaming. God, Merlin, whoever, please. Just shut. me. up.

Professor Snape closed his eyes and folded his hands against his nose like he was praying, though he also looked like he might start laughing or crying one. He took a deep breath before opening his eyes and looking back at Harry.

“I apologize for my decorum, Harry. This is not at all how I intended to proceed with this conversation.”

“What conversation?”

“We’ll call it the ‘title of address conversation’,” Professor Snape said seriously. “Or more accurately, the ‘Harry is succumbing to peer pressure and forcing himself to do things that make him uncomfortable again’ conversation.”

“It’s not peer pressure,” Harry argued in a mumble. “And I’m not uncomfortable.”

“As humorous as watching your attempt to stumble around all of this can be,” Professor Snape continued, ignoring his lies, “I can see that it’s causing you great distress, which in turn causes me as such.” He leaned forward a bit, looking him in the eyes.

“Harry, I don’t care what you call me. I truly don’t. Professor, Dad, Father… even Papa,” he said, though the look on his face said otherwise at the last one. “What your peers think, what I think, it hardly matters in comparison to your own comfort.”

Well, it seemed that Professor Snape and he had had the same topic in mind. That made it a bit easier to speak honestly.

“You’re my father now, and I’m really happy about that,” Harry said. “But I just… I don’t think I can call you Dad, not right now at least,” he admitted, looking down. “It just doesn’t feel right.”

A finger snaked under his chin, lifting it up. “And that is perfectly valid.”

“And the other names sound stupid. But I can’t just keep calling you Professor forever!”

“You certainly can,” Professor Snape argued. “But I see your point. Have you ever considered just calling me Severus?”

“Severus?” Harry asked, hesitantly.

“That is my name, after all.”

“It’s rude to call adults by their first name,” Harry echoed the words of long ago, feeling a little queasy by the prospect.

Professor Snape seemed to consider that. “Normally, yes,” he conceded after a moment. “But you are my son, and thus I am giving you permission to do so.”

Harry hated how many similarities he could draw between Gary and Professor Snape, it made him doubt whether or not he was doing right with this whole trusting an adult thing. It wasn’t that the two men were even similar in personality, not at all. It was just that the two were adult men that Harry had trusted. One had exploited that trust and it was difficult to believe sometimes that the other wouldn't do exactly the same given the chance. Harry really didn’t think that he would, but he didn’t want to make the same mistakes twice.

Still… it really was just a name, wasn’t it? It was a mere word, and it wasn’t likely to change the world.

“Severus,” Harry said, taking a deep breath as he tried the name out again. “I- I can do that.”

Professor Snape - no, Severus - smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. Now onto lighter topics, how are you adjusting to the first week of the school year?”

“Good,” Harry said easily. “Everyone is still really nice, even with all the gossip about the adoption going around… Well, Zacharias Smith is still a bit of a prat, but that’s hardly surprising…”

“Your housemates are fine with the adoption?”

“Yeah… Well, I mean, it’s hardly a shock to them. They’ve always known I’m the teacher’s pet when it comes to you,” Harry said cheekily.

“And here I thought I was being fair and equal with my disdain for all the little miscreants of the castle,” Severus said, rolling his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to try harder.”

“I think everyone realizes that I’m your favorite, especially now, and that everyone in Gryffindor is definitely your least favorite,” Harry said, giggling. “I don’t think that anyone really sees you as the type to be fair.”

“Fortunate for you.”

“Not for Gryffindor, though,” Harry said, feeling bad for the house. “They can’t be that bad.”

“You’ve clearly never been in a Slytherin-Gryffindor Potions class,” Severus said. “Another fortunate thing for you.”

“It’s not very fair, though.”

“You only say that because of your Hufflepuff traits. And I am not, as you said, the type to be fair.”

Harry rolled his eyes, leaning forward to pick up his glass of cider again before settling back onto the couch. He doubted that the professor would ever see things his way, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t spend the next several years attempting to persuade him in the right direction.

Severus picked his glass back up as well, and they sipped in silence for a bit before Harry remembered another topic he’d wanted to broach with the man.

“Oh, Severus?” Harry started, feeling content as he settled into the use of the name.

“Hm?” Severus hummed, looking just as content as Harry felt inside.

“What’s a Death Eater?”