Potions and Snitches
Snape and Harry Gen Fanfiction Archive

Third Time's a Charm

Harry said nothing about his family when he joined his friends on their way back to Gryffindor tower, but his dreams that night spoke volumes.

He was standing before the enchanted picture frame, wand at the ready, then stepping back as the wall dissolved into the image of the double doors that led into the Boardroom. The doors were closed just then, and Snape was standing there with Draco, one hand on his shoulder as he gave the boy a last word of encouragement. The doors opened like magic, beckoning the pair inside, but instead of seeing his father and brother walk forward, Harry was suddenly transported into the middle of the hearing.

Or trial, really, for that was what it had been.

Everything was the same as it had been in his waking life, down to the last detail. The stone stool where Draco sat. Lucius, his entire demeanour composed, though he was ever so slightly smirking. Fudge, banging his gavel when the Governors began to speak amongst themselves.

Then Harry noticed his godfather, and realised that not everything was the same.

Sirius, alive and well.

He was seated at the curved table with the other Board members, just as if he had a right to be, as if he were one of them, when in fact he was a fugitive from the Ministry's horrid idea of justice. How could he be sitting out in the open like that, with the Minister of Magic himself not twenty feet away? And what if some Aurors came in to testify? They'd recognise Sirius even if nobody else seemed to. Sirius was going to get tossed to the Dementors . . .

But not if Harry had anything to say about it.

Standing close to the wall, he thought desperately of his godfather, trying to make the wall focus on him alone so that he could whisper a warning. But nothing happened; he could still see the entire Board, and Draco, Snape, and Dumbledore as well. Snape was glaring, his black eyes fierce, but strangely, his anger didn't seem directed at Sirius.

Uh-oh . . .

Snape somehow knew that Harry was using the magical picture frame again, knew that Harry was misusing it . . .

But what did that matter when Sirius could be arrested any second?

Concentrating again, Harry thought only of Sirius, focusing his every thought on him and only him, reaching down deep into the core of his being to pull forth every bit of magic he possessed. Protecting Sirius was all that mattered. His father would be angry, but that was all right. He'd said he didn't expect Harry to be perfect; he'd promised that he and Harry would get past whatever difficulties might arise.

It's going to be all right, Harry thought. I'll warn Sirius to get away, and once he's safely in hiding, I'll make it up to Severus. Somehow. Everything will be just fine . . .

In the next instant, though, Harry realised that things were far from fine. The whole wall before him shattered like a mirror dropped upon a hard, stone floor. Jagged granite chunks fell to the ground, the noise of them so loud that Harry winced and covered his ears.

Suddenly Snape was there in person, in the bedroom with Harry, shaking his head.

"Idiot child, you broke Draco's Christmas present!"

"He broke mine," Harry said, and right away wished he hadn't, because he didn't really resent that. He understood the kind of state Draco had been in that day. And now his father was going to think he was an idiot, wasn't he, or at the least he would think Harry a child, a petulant child. And Snape knew how to be scathing, didn't he? He knew just how to cut Harry down to size, and he wouldn't hesitate to do just that, would he---

But all Snape said was, "Oh, but you're hurt, Harry. Let me see. Come now, let me see . . ."

Harry didn't know what he was talking about. "Huh? I'm not hurt--"

But he was only just realising that yes, he was. His whole hand felt like it was on fire, the sensation worst on the finger that bore his snake ring. "Severus," he said, his voice wavering with shock, "I think I need a potion."

"No potion," said Snape, his voice smooth like honey, yet laced with something sinister. "You don't deserve a potion after what you've done."

Snape pricked his finger then, using a thick, long needle that reminded Harry of Samhain, and Harry flinched. Blood dripped from the wound and oozed onto his mother's ring. Except, it wasn't his mother's so much now, was it? It was Severus' as well. And Severus was angry . . .

Harry yanked his hand away and began to rub it on his shirt, back and forth, trying to get the blood off the ring. But the blood remained, coating the ring so completely that no part of it was visible, now. The ring was ruined, and Snape's so-called help had been no help at all. Harry's finger felt like it was going up in flames. "Why'd you do that?"

A hard look in those black eyes. "Because your nonsensical antics got Draco expelled," spat Snape. "It's your fault, all of it!"

"It's not! All I wanted was to talk to Sirius. You saw him, he was there in the Boardroom--"

"No, he wasn't. Your godfather is dead, and if you think you saw him it's only because he's part of the mirror you used!"

Sirius was in the mirror? Harry started, his mind spinning so fast the sensation was almost painful. I've never seen Sirius in the mirror. He'd gone through the Veil before I ever found it. But maybe the mirror can somehow reach him now, and I can talk to him--

Grabbing the broken mirror from where he'd dropped it on Draco's bed, Harry grabbed another shard. It sliced his hand wide open, but he barely noticed that. He held a shard up to where the frame used to hang, though now of course he was looking straight into the potions lab, as there was no frame at all any longer, nor even a wall to hang it on. But the magic might still work, he thought, as he drew his wand and prepared to cast. Show me Sirius, that was all it would take--

His wand was snatched from him before he could say the words. "Untested magic! I do believe you've done quite enough of that already!"

"But it's Sirius! I want to talk to Sirius!"

"And I wanted Draco exonerated but instead you did all you could to send him away, calling in Miss Granger of all people!" Snape bared his teeth. "You'll stay out of your room. In fact, stay out of the dungeons entirely, Potter. I've no wish to see you. Get out of my sight!"

Harry woke up drenched in sweat, his hands tightly clenched, biting back something suspiciously close to a scream as he sat up and looked around in wild panic.

"You all right, mate?" murmured Ron, the sound muffled by the curtains around each of their beds.

The question helped Harry realise he'd been dreaming, but it didn't slow his heartbeat. "Yeah," he finally managed to answer. "Nightmare. Sorry."

Ron was suddenly there beside him, though Harry hadn't heard the curtains being pushed aside. "You-Know-Who?"

Harry shook his head.

"Want to go down and see your father?"

Harry sort of shuddered. Snape had said to stay away . . . but no, that had been the dream Snape. In real life Snape would never say a thing like that to him. His father loved him; Harry knew that. It wasn't real, that dream. Sirius wasn't alive, and he wasn't in the mirror, either.

"Harry, you want me to go down and get Snape for you, then?" asked Ron.

"He's in . . . uh . . ." Fidelius kept Harry from saying anything else, even though the other boys in the room were most likely asleep. Ron understood, though.

"Oh, right. I guess he would be, considering." Ron gave him a close look. "Sure you're all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry flopped back onto his back. "Honest. I'm going to try to sleep again."

Nodding, Ron padded back to his own bed.

Harry rolled onto his side and calmed his breathing, but it seemed like a long time passed before he dropped back off to sleep.

 

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After a dream like that, Harry was a bit reluctant to go down for his Potions tutorial, but he knew better than to give his father even more reason to be annoyed with him. Snape wasn't there when he arrived, so Harry sat down in the living room and prepared to wait. There wasn't much else he could do, as he was forbidden to so much as enter his own room.

Sighing, Harry settled in.

At precisely eleven, however, he received a considerable surprise. A scroll popped into existence in the middle of the room and unrolled itself as it hung suspended in the air. Startled, Harry jerked back a little, but the parchment didn't do anything further. After a moment, he got up from the couch and walked close enough to recognise Snape's distinctive scrawl.

Harry,

I am occupied at the moment but will be with you as soon as is practicable. In the interim, you may disregard the strictures regarding your room. Draco's picture frame is unresponsive now; it shows nothing but the Whomping Willow. The spells weaving the frame together were irreparably changed when you forced them into new pathways and now, the magic appears to be dependent on the broken mirror you left lying out. I've taken the mirror away to prevent any further mischief on your part.

Severus

Harry hardly knew what to think of all that. He was allowed in his room again, which was good, but it certainly wasn't worth losing his mirror over. Then again, Snape didn't know that the mirror was from Sirius. He didn't know it had anything to do with Sirius.

Maybe if he knew, he'd give it back. Or maybe not, considering he'd never liked Sirius. He'd think the mirror was good for nothing but mischief if he knew that Sirius had been the one to give it to Harry. And even not knowing, he might think that since the mirror was broken, it was good for nothing at all.

Snape threw out Sals' box after Draco broke it, Harry remembered. Reparo was no good in that case; the magic had been too far shattered. Why would Snape treat a broken mirror any differently?

Something deep inside Harry seemed to break apart just thinking about that. He'd have to talk to Snape and make sure he didn't throw the mirror away, he decided.

I should have told him about the mirror a long time ago, Harry thought, despondent. Snape wasn't too likely to be pleased that Harry had been keeping a thing like that a secret. He also wasn't too likely to give it back, considering the use Harry had made of it.

You broke Draco's Christmas present . . .

Had he really? Harry wanted to go have a look at the frame for himself. He was even allowed to now; Snape had said he could go into his room again. Remembering how angry his father had been, however, Harry decided to err on the side of caution. He wanted to show Snape that he could be trusted . . . that he could be good.

Or maybe he was trying to show the man that he'd rather lose his room than the mirror.

Sighing again, Harry sank back down onto the couch, shaking his head a bit when the scroll responded by rolling itself back up and vanishing with another pop. He wondered if it had gone back to wherever Snape was.

After that, things quickly got very boring as far as Harry was concerned. He'd never been in Snape's quarters alone before, not for any length of time. He'd always had Draco to talk with, not that he'd appreciated that very much in the beginning. And Draco, really, was just about all he could think about now. Was he holding up all right in Devon? Did he know how soon they were leaving England, or where they might be heading? Did he know any more about Snape's plans than Harry did?

When I have something to tell you, I will tell you . . .

Harry tried to read, but since he wasn't an academic like Hermione, Snape's books really weren't all that interesting. After a while he grabbed parchment and quill from a low shelf and wrote a letter to Remus, catching him up on all the news. Well, all the news he could share. There was a lot he couldn't say, as the letter might be captured in transit. Tucking the letter away in a pocket, Harry realised he'd have to ask Severus how to get it delivered. He didn't want to ask Hedwig to fly all the way to France.

It was almost lunchtime by then, so Harry ordered through the Floo. Grilled cheese sandwich with chips, and a big glass of orange juice, followed by strawberry ice cream, but it really wasn't very much fun eating all alone.

After lunch he just wandered for a while, back and forth across the length of the dining alcove and living room. That soon palled. It was almost a relief when he realised he needed to use the toilet. He couldn't leave the dungeons without an escort, so Snape could hardly blame Harry for going into his room after all, could he?

The moment that question crossed his mind, Harry had to ask himself why he'd even wonder that. Snape had said it was all right to enter his room, after all. He'd even taken the trouble to write it down so that Harry would know.

Harry shook his head to clear it, and tried to stop second-guessing himself as he opened his door. He noticed as he passed it that the picture frame was showing the Whomping Willow, just as Snape had said. He took care of his needs in the bathroom, then went back out to study the frame for a moment. The willow trying to bud out into new leaves. Harry could see grass fluttering in the breeze, so the image wasn't frozen in one sense. Snape was right, though; no matter how hard he thought about Hagrid's hut, or the greenhouses, or the Quidditch pitch, he couldn't get the frame to budge from showing that one tree.

Well, he hadn't really thought Snape was wrong, though he still did wonder if wanded magic would make it work as before. Not that he was going to try any; he just wondered. Same way he wondered if the missing piece of his mirror had ever come back into existence. Harry began looking around for it, thinking that if he found it he'd have to give it to Snape to keep with the other shards.

The missing shard of mirror was still missing, Harry realised with dismay. The feeling was cut short, however, by the sight of something odd in his room. Something he recognised straight away.

A plain parchment envelope, propped up on the shelves where Harry normally kept his books and some of his Christmas gifts. The shelves were empty now; not even Draco's things remained. There was only that envelope and what it contained. A Gringotts key. Harry knew that without even opening it because by then, he knew he was living out events he'd dreamed.

The unadoption dream . . .

But Snape wasn't going to unadopt him; Harry knew that. He wasn't worried at all, hadn't been for ages.

Three months is not ages, except perhaps when one is sixteen . . .

All right, so it hadn't been ages. But it had been long enough for him to learn that he could depend on Severus.

And besides, now that he was thinking about it, it came to him that his dream-self hadn't been the least bit worried about an unadoption. He hadn't been afraid at all, not while he'd still been inside the dream. Even hearing all that the casewitch had said, he'd felt just fine about it all. It was only when he'd woken up that he'd panicked.

His dream self had been curious, though, about this key. Just whose was it? Wandering over to the shelves, Harry broke the plain wax seal holding the envelope closed and examined the tiny key that dropped into his hand. Not his. Definitely not his. He supposed it might be Draco's, but if Draco's vault had reverted to Lucius, wouldn't the key have gone to him right along with all the things Draco had bought with his money?

So maybe it was Sirius' key? After all, Harry didn't know what that one might look like. But why would that key show up here, and in an unmarked envelope no less? Dumbledore had it, and it wasn't as if Snape would have gone to the headmaster to say that Harry should have it so he could pass it on to Draco. Not when Snape had tried to tell him not to bring the bequest up in the first place.

Good advice, Harry recognised. He should have listened to it. But the idea had just seemed so utterly perfect at the time. He'd been sure that it was what he was meant to do with the money. He wanted Draco to have it. And he was supposed to have good instincts, wasn't he?

Not on that count, apparently.

A thudding noise announced that someone had come in, and Harry held his breath, because this was it, wasn't it? It would be Snape and the casewitch out there, discussing something that had sounded like unadoption months ago, but now . . .

If you could think of someone other than yourself for five contiguous seconds . . .

And that, as it turned out, was what it all boiled down to. Harry had interpreted that awful dream with thought only for himself; it had never once dawned on him that the whole thing might have been about Draco. Of course not. Back when he'd dreamed it, right after that awful you-don't-deserve-to-be-my-son argument, he hadn't understood, not really, that Draco had needs too. Serious ones.

As far as Harry was concerned, it was high time that Draco got adopted too.

It was just a shame that it had to happen like this, with poverty and expulsion wrapped around it. It was a shame it had to look like Snape was doing it because of circumstances and not love. But it had looked that way for Harry's adoption too, sort of, with the blood warding being dependent on the legalities, and Harry had got past all that.

Voices drifted in from the living room, voices he'd heard before. Words he'd heard before. Amaelia Thistlethorne was talking, her high voice unmistakable. Harry put the key back in the envelope and set it down, then went to the door to listen, peering out through the crack to spy on Snape as he talked with the casewitch from Wizard Family Services. He almost wanted to go out there, but he hadn't done that in the dream, a thought which kept him in the room. He didn't know what might happen if he defied the future, but if he ended up somehow fouling up the adoption, he'd never forgive himself.

"Well," the casewitch was saying. "I certainly never thought to be back here so very soon, and under such terrible circumstances."

"Have you brought the paperwork?" Snape asked, his voice businesslike and determined. "I want this over and done with, as soon as possible."

The casewitch pursed her lips. "I am under a great deal of pressure not to permit you to take such a step as this, you understand."

A sneering expression settled on Snape's face as Harry looked out at the scene in the living room. "I need not ask from which quarter. He does so love to pull those strings. No doubt he doesn't care for this development, but . . ." Snape shrugged. "I'm afraid it is necessary." His eyes narrowed. "You won't let his influence dissuade you, I trust."

"Of course not. Wizard Family Services' sole concern is the best interest of the child. Are you certain this is the only way to resolve the situation?"

"I am absolutely certain," Snape replied as he crossed his arms in resolution.

"I understand that your feelings may have changed, but this is so sudden--"

"On the contrary. It is long overdue."

The casewitch shifted on her feet as though considering how best to get through Snape's stubbornness. "I'm sure the young man must be very upset, which is only natural, considering--"

"Miss Thistlethorne," Snape softly said, his tones ringing with decision, "it is time to end this . . . standoff, so that both he and I can move past the regrettable position we find ourselves in. I trust I make myself clear?"

"Very clear, Professor."

With that, the casewitch extended a parchment. Snape took it, and summoning a quill, signed it.

"I'll speak with Harry now," Amaelia Thistlethorne said. "He really should have been informed of this in advance, you realise."

Snape nodded, a sweep of long, black hair brushing his face. "No doubt. You wish to interview him alone, I take it?" She had barely begun to nod when the Potions Master called out, "Harry. You are in your room, I believe?"

Harry's face heated at the implication that he was eavesdropping. No matter that he was. On the other hand, was it really eavesdropping when at least one of the people conversing knew for certain that you were listening in? Snape knew; he had to. He'd read over Harry's account of the dream. He must have recognised that it was coming true and that Harry was hanging onto every word.

Still blushing, Harry pushed his door wide and went out to shake the casewitch's hand.

"So, I hear you are back living in Gryffindor, Mr Potter."

"That's right."

"And how is that going?"

Harry couldn't help but smile. "All right. My friends think it's pretty funny that Severus told me to be good when he dropped me off. You know, they don't think it fits his image, hearing him be so . . ." Harry thought better than to say sweet. "Dad-like."

"And what do you think?"

"Um, he's doing all right. For both of us, speaking of which . . ." Harry turned to face his father. "You didn't leave Draco alone, did you?"

"Of course not. Albus is with him."

"Oh. So, um . . . can you bring him home, now? That was an adoption paper you just signed, wasn't it?"

"Draco has to sign it as well," Snape murmured, watching Harry closely. "And then there are a few formalities to be observed. But once he is my son in the eyes of the Ministry, he can live here whether he's enrolled as a student or not. Albus found the provision buried deep in the Hogwarts' Charter."

Harry nodded his understanding, ignoring the casewitch for the moment. "But what about the Governors? They wanted Draco gone . . . do you think they'll make up a special rule that he can't live here, son or no?"

"Amending the Hogwarts charter would take some considerable time." Snape's black eyes began to glitter. "Moreover, the purpose of their action was to send a message. As Draco will remain expelled no matter where he lives, the Governors, all except one that is, should be satisfied."

"And the one will keep making trouble." Harry sighed.

Amaelia Thistlethorne frowned, her fat lips turning down. "Yes, he was a complication I hadn't foreseen."

"Foreseen, how could you have foreseen anything if the whole thing only came up last night--" The truth struck him then, the blow so hard Harry was surprised he didn't stagger. "You've had adopting Draco in the works for a while," he realised out loud, hating the sound of hurt he could hear in every word. "I . . . Hagrid said you'd told the headmaster I ought to be told more about what's going on around me. Didn't you mean it?"

"I meant it." Snape ran a hand through his hair. "Harry, Hagrid is the reason I didn't tell you that I'd submitted an application to adopt your brother. Draco and I wanted to let you know straight away. He tried to tell you, if you'll recall, when we arrived home on Thursday evening after dealing with the initial forms and interviews."

That was right, Draco had been terribly excited over something that night. And Snape had cut him off and not let him talk about it . . .

"But Hagrid was here," said Snape. "He's not the most closed-mouth of individuals, and as I didn't want Lucius catching the slightest wind of our plans . . . I did intend to inform you, Harry. But by the next opportunity, we had encountered what appeared to be an insurmountable difficulty and it seemed the adoption would never be allowed to go through."

"Lucius," said Harry, grimacing as he remembered how Draco's mood had got steadily worse over the course of the week.

"Actually, no," supplied the casewitch. "It was the head of my own office, objecting most vociferously to the entire notion. Don't forget, we had emancipated Mr Malfoy some months earlier. In doing so, we had announced a finding that he was fully capable of functioning as an adult. To effect a custodial adoption requires us to reverse that finding." The casewitch looked away as though embarrassed. "I'm afraid my superiors took a dim view of that. They'd rather the public believe WFS is above error."

"But you just said WFS's sole concern is the best interests of the child!"

"That is in fact my concern," said the casewitch in a stiff voice. "Which is why I was advising your father not to rush into this. Your best interests are at stake here too, and with the matter of the murder being rather clouded--"

"You were hesitating because you think Draco might have done it?" Harry shook his head. "No, he's innocent. The Aurors got it right, and Fudge cast as much doubt on that as he could because he's in Lucius Malfoy's back pocket, see?"

"Minister Fudge, Harry," said Snape.

"Minister Fudge. But honest, I do know for a fact that Draco didn't kill anybody last week, Miss Thistlethorne. Lucius is behind all of this. He's trying his best to get Draco kicked out of school. Easier to deliver him to Voldemort that way." The casewitch shuddered a bit at the name, but Harry managed not to make a face. "But if Lucius Malfoy isn't the one pulling strings to stop the adoption, then who is?"

"Oh, now that Lucius Malfoy has realised what the charter will enable your father to do, he is indeed pulling all the strings he can."

"He's a school Governor but he didn't know in advance what the school charter says?"

"You're aware of my opinion of the Governors, I do believe." If not for the casewitch, Harry thought, his father might have gone into full sneering mode. As it was, Snape managed to sound merely disdainful. "Lucius appears to have found out yesterday what I had in mind, and he at once began to place obstacles in our way. Hence Draco's rather foul mood before the hearing--"

"Before and after," corrected Harry.

"Well, his hopes had been severely dashed. Once Lucius had a finger in the pie Draco rather doubted that Albus and I would prevail. He ought to have had more faith." Snape's black hair swayed as he shook his head. "At any rate, now you know why he screamed family at you in that irate tone. I trust you weren't too perturbed?"

Harry grinned. "Hey, if you could put up with Draco telling you to fuck off--"

"Harry!"

Oops. Casewitch.

Far from becoming offended, however, Amaelia Thistlethorne was softly smiling. "I'm greatly encouraged that you appear to know when to make allowances, Professor. It's a sign of good parenting, and I must say I'd wondered about that, what with your rather fearsome reputation amongst the students."

Harry was a little amused to see what looked like a touch of colour dotting Snape's normally sallow cheeks. "Yes, well . . . these two boys are not my students. Unless I'm teaching them, you understand."

"He does a great job juggling the two roles."

Those spots of colour gained a shade or two. "Harry, I do not need you to laud me to Miss Thistlethorne."

"All right, Dad."

That earned him a glower, but Snape didn't mean it in earnest. Harry could tell, which he thought was an all-around nice feeling. What wasn't so nice, however, was thinking about how Lucius Malfoy must have found out about the adoption. Same way he'd got a hold of Hermione's complaint letter, Harry figured.

"Professor Snape, if you might leave me alone with Mr Potter now," hinted the casewitch as she gave the Floo a rather significant glance.

"Certainly." Snape nodded briefly in her direction before turning his attention to Harry. "I plan to stay with Draco until matters are official and I can accompany him back home. You will be all right? We should return before nightfall."

"That soon?"

"I'm afraid his application is being expedited even more than yours was, the circumstances being so urgent."

Harry liked the idea that he wasn't the only one who ever got special treatment. "See you later then," he said to his father. "Tell Draco 'hallo' from me."

The minute Snape was gone, Harry rounded on the casewitch. He'd thought better than to tell her in Snape's hearing how to run her office; the Potions Master would no doubt have thought Harry was overstepping his bounds. Same as he was supposed to call everybody by their rightful title. But this was too important a matter to push aside.

"You do know you have a rat working for you, don't you?"

Amaelia Thistlethorne nodded. "Richard Steyne, yes. Your father and I reasoned that out while we were fetching Mr Malfoy's emancipation certificate from his school file this morning. Richard himself only became aware of the proposed adoption yesterday, as he'd taken a few days' leave. Almost as soon as Richard was back in the office, we began to hear from several solicitors who were quite insistent that no adoption take place." She gave a mirthless laugh. "I'm afraid that Mr Malfoy overplayed his hand. The solicitors began by claiming that Severus Snape is fit to be nobody's parent. In effect, asking WFS to agree that your own adoption was a mistake. Well, my superior wasn't about to do that. He's still clamouring for your father to be awarded an Order of Merlin for so heroically rescuing you on Samhain! When slandering your father failed, Malfoy's solicitors started in with threats, which virtually guaranteed a swift and sure adoption process. WFS will not have it said that it can be intimidated into ignoring the best interests of the child."

No, they'd only ignore that to preserve their own pride. Harry thought better than to say that, though. "You mean Lucius Malfoy railing against Severus adopting Draco has ended up getting it shoved through?"

Her eyes twinkled. "Ironic, isn't it? The head of the whole office decided it was better to admit the emancipation was a mistake than give the public impression that WFS can be bought and sold."

"Yeah, I can see that." Harry lapsed into thought, something bothering him, something that didn't quite add up . . . "Oh. If Draco's emancipation is withdrawn wouldn't that make Lucius his legal father again? I mean, for some small amount of time?"

"His emancipation has been withdrawn already, which is why I was charged with verifying the magical destruction of all certificates, including the one filed with the school. However, Lucius' parental rights were severed months ago when WFS became convinced he'd put out a contract for his own son's death. That is not acceptable behaviour," she understated.

"What about his mother?"

The casewitch waved a contemptuous hand. "Oh, that woman waived her rights rather than stand with her son against her husband. She's got nothing to do with Mr Malfoy any longer, either."

Harry wasn't so sure of that. He couldn't forget the time it had sounded like Draco was moaning Dragon my treasure in his sleep.

"So what about Steyne then?" he pressed, his thoughts travelling full circle. "He's going to get sacked? And charged?"

The casewitch's smile was thin and rather malevolent. Strange thing to see in someone dedicated to helping children, Harry thought. "Your father thought it might be more strategic to keep Steyne employed so that he could be used to feed false information to Lucius Malfoy."

"You agreed to that? Will your superiors go along with it?"

"They haven't realised Richard's culpability, nor will they, if I have anything to do with it. For you see, my concern truly is your best interest, Mr Potter. It seems to me that keeping Lucius Malfoy misinformed could be helpful in protecting you."

Wow, pretty manipulative for a Hufflepuff, was Harry's first thought. Of course Snape had been the one to dream the scheme up, but Harry was still impressed.

"And your soon-to-be brother," she added, watching him carefully. Harry took that to mean that his sibling-interview was about to start in earnest. But that was all right; he was ready.

Waving the casewitch into a chair, Harry took one himself and remembered to ask if she'd like any refreshment. Only after they were both sipping a rather nice blend of Oolong tea did he take her bait. "There's no soon-to-be about it. Draco and I are brothers already. I told you that, remember? But it'll be nice to have it finally be official."

"Why is that?"

"Draco seems to handle setbacks pretty well in general, but lately I've been worried about him. See, I've been let out of the dungeons but he's still confined . . . and I got to tell people Severus is my dad while he couldn't say a word, and well, he's a Slytherin even if they did take his crest away. I think he needs things to be even."

"You sound surprisingly accepting," remarked the casewitch. "You realise it would be entirely normal for you to feel a tad resentful of this development?"

"I guess," said Harry, lifting his shoulders as he smiled. "I think I went through that already, though. We aren't forming a new family, Miss Thistlethorne. We've been one for a while."

"Well the situation here does seem to have been unusual in several respects. But as long as you're at ease with matters I see no need to recommend counselling." She looked him up and down. "I take it you and Mr Malfoy have desisted from the rough Muggle sports?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry quickly said. Maybe too quickly, since the casewitch gave him a sharp look. "I mean, mostly. We know not to let it go too far now. Though Hermione really was worrying over nothing. You know that her letter ended up in Fudge's possession?"

"Highly, highly inappropriate. The Minister should know better than to read confidential WFS documents, let alone use them in the manner he did."

"Well, that's Fudge for you. Oh, I mean Minister Fudge."

The casewitch leaned back in her chair and sipped her tea for a moment as she studied him. "You seem rather intent on obeying your father."

"Isn't that normal?"

"Actually, a common reaction to adoption is a good bit of acting out. Deliberate defiance, the child doing all he can to test the limits of his new parent's patience. Judging from the things I've seen and heard, you appear to have skipped that phase, but I thought it wise to caution you that Mr Malfoy may not."

Harry set down his half-finished tea. "Why on earth would Draco . . . He's been very rude lately, but I'm sure it's because of the awful strain he's been under. I thought it would get better as soon as he got adopted and felt safe."

"Ah, but that's just it. If he follows the typical pattern, he won't feel safe until he's thoroughly convinced himself that his new father will stand by him no matter what. Now, bear in mind that not every adopted child attempts this tactic. You didn't. But if Mr Malfoy runs true to form, he will put himself out to be as unpleasant as he can for a time."

"I understand," murmured Harry. As unpleasant as he can be? Draco knew how to be pretty damned unpleasant. "Um, what should I do? I mean, is there anything I can do to help?"

"He'll likely feel quite jealous of your prior claim to your father. I'd suggest giving the two of them plenty of time alone in the coming weeks."

"Oh." Harry didn't like the sound of that. But then again, offering Draco money had sounded very good to him, and look at how well that had turned out. Plus, Snape himself had said something similar, hadn't he, about Draco needing father-son time. About Harry needing to put his brother's needs first for a while.

And after all, Draco had put Harry's needs first when Harry had been the one getting adopted.

The casewitch finished her tea and set the cup down. "Don't fret. Just continue being patient, and your brother will eventually come to understand that he is loved and safe here."

"I don't think he--" Harry abruptly stopped talking when it came to him that he was close to betraying something Snape had told him in confidence.

Amaelia Thistlethorne looked as though she understood Draco's issues about family love, but also as though she approved of Harry's discretion. "Patience," she repeated. "And too, please realise that it may be a few days before your brother takes it into his head to test his new father's commitment. At the very start he will likely be feeling too vulnerable to even attempt pushing limits."

Harry's first reaction to that was to think she had it wrong and Draco wasn't the vulnerable sort. But then he remembered the scene he'd witnessed the night before. Draco in the hallway, leaning against Snape, sniffling in despair from Lucius' dreadful threats. So yes, Draco was a bit vulnerable. He just didn't like to show it. And if he got a bit snide with his family for a while, well, Harry could put up with that. He could help see Draco through to the other side, where he would realise what family meant.

"Well, if you have no further questions I will return to the office to see to it that the matter is concluded this evening," said the casewitch as she hefted her considerable bulk to her feet. "Though with the head of WFS supporting it now, there should be no problems."

Harry nodded. "Hmm, too bad I didn't have any warning; I'd have made a well-wish." His mind started racing as he tried to figure out what plants would be best for Draco.

"A well-wish for an adoption?" The casewitch appeared startled, but then she caught on. "Oh, I see. That's a marvellous notion. What a nice young man you are, thinking of a thing like that."

"Draco thought of it first. Way back then. He's a good brother."

"As Professor Snape is a good father. You needn't convince me further, Mr Potter. I thought at first that this was proceeding much too hastily, especially as the murder has yet to be solved, but now I see that you all fit quite well together. Just remember what I said about Mr Malfoy's possible mood a few days hence."

As if Harry could forget.

 

------------------------------------------------------

 

Harry wasn't nearly as bored alone in Snape's quarters the second time around, because now he had a project to pursue. A well-wish. The book Ginny had given him, Well We Wish You, was still in his trunk, and of course Snape had loads of books detailing magical properties of plants. Granted, those were designed more with Potions in mind, but they were still useful. Draco's book, Harry thought, would have been really useful, but it was nowhere to be found. Harry didn't know if it was one of the items that had vanished when the goblins had enforced the terms of his vault, or if Draco had merely packed it when he'd gathered up all his belongings.

Draco must have been feeling truly hopeless, Harry thought as he glanced about the room. There was nothing of his left at all, as though he'd believed the adoption would never go through and he'd be forever barred from Hogwarts. No wonder he'd been acting hostile. Of course, according to the casewitch, that was only going to get worse . . .

Maybe, Harry thought. I managed to skip that step; maybe Draco will too. We are already a family . . .

But at some level, Harry knew, Draco didn't really believe that.

He ate dinner alone, ordering pot roast in honour of Draco, and then got right back to his research.

The flare of the Floo took him by surprise when it finally happened. Jumping up, Harry nervously glanced down at his clothes. He should be in dress robes, well-wish in hand, and he looked as though he'd come down to brew all day! Which he had, of course. Snape had entirely forgotten about his potions tutorial, but Harry was hardly going to complain about it. In the first place, Draco was far more important. And in the second, Harry didn't like potions all that much anyway.

Draco stepped through the Floo first, followed closely by Snape, who had a satchel in hand. A small satchel, yet it probably held everything Draco had left in the whole world. Harry thought that was rather sad, but this time, he knew better than to offer Draco part of his own wealth.

"Hey," Harry said, which he thought was pretty lame, but he didn't know quite what to say about the adoption. Upon this day your joy is made complete, something like that, except that would have to wait until he'd got all his plants together. "Is it done? Official?"

Draco nodded, not meeting Harry's eyes. He unhooked his cloak and as he shrugged out of it, Harry couldn't help but notice the black patch where the Slytherin crest used to be.

"So do you have a certificate embossed and suitable for framing?" he asked to break the tension.

"No," snapped Draco, the one short word taking Harry aback.

"Oh, I guess it couldn't make it through Fidelius--"

"Indeed not. Albus delivered it personally," said Snape. He withdrew a rolled scrolled tied with ribbon and extended it to Harry.

Draco sucked in a harsh breath, but Harry gave him an easy smile. "What, you think I'm going to object to something? I'm sorry you've had it so rough lately but I'm not sorry at all to have this to admire." Thumb and forefinger about to pull the end of the ribbon, Harry paused. "May I?"

"I think I'd rather you didn't."

"Harry, please do go ahead," said Snape, his black eyes rebuking Draco, though his tone of voice remained calm. "He's going to find out sooner or later, you realise."

"I know you're adopted, Draco," quipped Harry.

"You don't know the rest though--"

"What rest?" Before Draco could answer that though, Harry had the certificate unrolled and was reading it. Well, scanning it. It was the same as his own, after all. Except for the name prominently featured in glowing gold script.

Draco Snape.

Harry's eyes just about bugged out of his head.

Draco Snape?

Harry checked again, but sure enough, the name was still the same.

"You changed your name?" he finally asked, keeping his tone carefully level as he glanced up. He didn't want to let on how strange he found that; it seemed to him that Draco was a bit on edge about it already.

"Yes." As if needing a distraction, the other boy went to hang his cloak, then came back and stared at Harry in clear challenge.

"Uh, all right," said Harry, smiling past his shock. Draco Snape? He rolled the name around in his mind, wishing he could try it out on his tongue to see if it fit. It was just . . . too strange to take in.

Apparently his expression gave his thoughts away. "I thought a fresh start would be a good thing," said Draco in an airy tone that didn't do a thing to hide his defensiveness. "I was tired of being judged his in every way just because he sired me."

Harry remembered then, Snape saying, Draco is trying to distance himself from his father. Harry just hadn't realised that Draco was going to try quite this hard. He still really couldn't wrap his mind around it.

"You aren't jealous, are you?"

Blinking, Harry shook his head. "No, it's not that. I'm just surprised, is all. You're happy with it, right? Then that's all that really matters."

Draco inclined his head in a rather regal gesture. "I'm happy with it, Harry. It was my idea, after all." A wicked grin suddenly curled his lips. "Of course Lucius is bound to regard it as quite a slap in the face. So that's all right, then."

"Draco Snape," Harry finally said out loud. He couldn't imagine what his friends were going to say. But then again, that hardly mattered. "Hmm. Well that'll take a bit of getting used to but if you're happy with it then so am I."

The other boy's eyes began to gleam with mischief. "Not too late to be Harry Snape yourself . . ."

"Uh, no. I don't think so." Harry glanced at his father, who hadn't spoken since handing over the scroll. "No offence, Severus. I'm proud to be your son and have the whole world know it, but I can't change my name, I just can't."

The Potions Master didn't look put out in the least; that was nice.

"Well then," said Draco, moving forward a little. He hesitated, then took the scroll from Harry and swiftly rolled it up. Only after he had placed it atop the bookshelf alongside Harry's own suitable-for-framing certificate did he resume speaking. "I guess this really does make us brothers."

Harry started, the phrase reverberating through his mind, and then he began laughing.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "What?"

Taking several deliberate deep breaths, Harry managed to get his laughter under control. "You know how you asked me once what I knew about the future? And I didn't answer? It was because I knew this, Draco. I dreamed a long time ago, before Samhain even, that you were going to say we were brothers!"

"And how exactly is it amusing?"

Uh-oh, Draco was starting to sound a bit miffed. Remembering how rough and raw he'd felt after his own adoption, how unsure of his welcome even though Snape had been nothing but kind, Harry rushed the rest of the story out. "It's funny because you've said we're brothers so many times that now I'll never know which time I actually dreamed! And I used to think it mattered; I was trying to figure out what order things were happening in, but you pretty much made it so I couldn't. Let's see, first it was, we're brothers because you're a Slytherin too, and then Severus lectured us about how we were both his sons, and it was so I guess we really are brothers, and now you've said it yet again!"

Draco's voice was cool. "I hadn't realised you were keeping such careful track."

"You would have, too, if you'd dreamed back before Samhain that I was going to say that we're brothers."

"Hmm, I suppose so. I can remember what I used to think about the way you always stole my thunder."

"Oh, that's rich. I don't recall distributing Malfoy stinks buttons all over school."

"Not a bad idea at this juncture though," Draco said, shrugging. "It wouldn't bother me, considering. Though it might be a poor tactical move to insult one of the Governors, much as he does deserve it. Of course he'll be simply furious that Severus managed to outsmart his every scheme. And the name change. Now that's an insult. Too bad I won't get to see his face when he reads about it in the morning edition of the Prophet."

Harry almost choked. "You're advertising it?"

"It's WFS policy since I'm a minor again now." Draco made a slight face, then appeared to shake off his morose thoughts. "So, are you all right with all of it? Not the name thing. The adoption, I mean."

"Well, of course. We were family already--"

"Not like this."

"Yes, like this." Harry sighed then, because if Draco could think that a certificate proved anything, then he really never had understood that Harry loved him. Patience, he heard the casewitch say inside his mind. Figuring it was better not to argue the point, he smiled a little bit. "I guess the third time's a charm."

"Huh?"

"That's three times you've said we're brothers."

"Is it, though? A charm?"

How two words could hold such insecurity was a mystery. Harry took a step towards Draco and grasped both his forearms. "Listen, Draco. If I'd known in advance what you two had planned I'd have made you a proper well wish. Actually I'm a little put out to have been left out--"

"I tried to tell you--"

"I know. It's all right, really. Severus explained. Hagrid was here so he shut you up."

"I encouraged discretion," Snape dryly corrected.

"No, you shut me up would be more accurate," said Draco, his tones every bit as dry. "I still wanted to tell you again, even after it started to look hopeless. But Severus said it didn't make much sense to explain until we knew more. And then I got expelled and had to leave, so I figured you might as well know everything, but when Severus and I got back here, your friends were hanging about, gloating like mad that I'd been kicked out of school!"

"They weren't gloating."

"Weasley was."

"Only after you mentioned again how poor he is. Come on, Draco, they testified for you! They tried to make the Board see that those other students were lying. They only came down here afterwards because Hermione wanted to apologise to me that her letter was used in such a foul way."

"She should apologise to me," sneered Draco. Harry braced himself for a tirade, but his brother dropped that matter for one more immediate. "So what's going to happen to Bella and Erik, Severus? They conspired to get another student expelled. Not to mention, their fascinating performance in the hearing tends to suggest that they were part of the plot to murder Pansy. Why else would they be trying so hard to help frame me?"

Snape folded his arms in front of him, his dark eyebrows drawing together over eyes that glittered with unpleasant intent. His voice cut through the air like a razor. "I will be speaking with Miss Uwannawich and Mr Vanvelzeer. You may count on it."

Harry flicked a glance towards Snape, wondering what the Potions Master had in mind. He somehow didn't think Snape would tell him, though. Which reminded him . . . "You might at least have mentioned that Argentina was off, you know."

Snape raised a questioning brow. "I did."

Oh, right. He had. "Well you know I didn't believe that! I mean, it might have been Bolivia or Kenya or something, but I definitely thought we were leaving the country. You knew I thought that!"

Snape took off his own cloak then, carefully hanging it on a peg. "How should I know what you think?" he asked, a trifle snidely. "You gave me to understand quite some time ago that I was not to use clandestine Legilimency on you except under extraordinary circumstances."

"Oh, that's a bit beside the point."

"Last night I did not feel like discussing my dearth of travel plans with you, as you had seriously displeased me with your dabbling in untested magic!"

"So leaving me in the dark, that was your idea of a punishment?"

"It was not done consciously," Snape said, his voice stiff. "I had much to accomplish and a good deal to consider besides your tender feelings."

"Harry," Draco broke in, "don't you remember what Lucius would do to me for punishment? Or what those awful Muggles would do to you?"

"Yeah," admitted Harry. "Still doesn't make it right to make me think I'm leaving Hogwarts, though."

"I didn't make you think that, you idiot child."

"Let's just drop it," said Harry. He could see that nobody was going to win this argument, and really, it wasn't so very important. He'd have handled things differently if he'd been in Snape's shoes, but then again, everyone made mistakes sometimes. And Snape hadn't been in the best position to know for sure, had he, if they might need to travel after all. At that point the adoption had still been in doubt.

Draco drew a pale wand from his pocket and levitated the satchel Snape had carried back from Devon. "Well, that's more than enough talk of leaving. I'm going to settle back in." With that he was striding into the bedroom, the satchel floating behind.

When Harry glanced back at his father, it was to see that the man was watching him carefully. "Harry," he began, but whatever Snape had meant to say was interrupted by Draco stomping back out to the living room, an open envelope clenched in one hand, a tiny gleaming key in the other.

"What the hell is this, Potter, eh? I told you no!" Draco cast a fierce silver glare towards his father. "Didn't I tell the fool no? Well, didn't I? You were there! And look at what he's gone and done!"

A tinkling sound reverberated through the room as Draco flung the key against the stone floor.

"Harry," Snape said, the name that time used in warning. But then, as though something else had occurred to him, the man turned to Draco. "It's not what you think."

"Oh, good," sniped Draco. "Because what I think is that the rich boy is showing off again, rubbing it in my face how much he's got to give and how much he must think I need it, as if I can't live without money, for Merlin's sake, as if I'll just wither and die from the lack of it! You don't think I have a backbone, Potter? You don't think I've lived through worse than this, such as Lucius putting out a fucking contract so my own house mates will be only too delighted to kill me--"

"Shut up!" Harry finally shouted. "God, Draco, just shut up! I don't know whose key that is or where it came from, all right? You might try asking a couple of questions before you start leaping to conclusions, you know!"

"Oh, some conclusion! Just last night you were only too happy to treat me like a charity case!"

"Well, you set me straight, didn't you? You wouldn't take Sirius' money if you were starving in the street! Not too Slytherin, if you ask me!"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Well, neither am I any longer! And what's this rubbish that you don't know a thing about any key? Gringotts keys don't just appear from thin air!"

Harry took a breath, wishing he hadn't said that thing about Slytherin.

Snape summoned the key with a whispered, wandless spell and caught it between two outstretched fingers. "This isn't Black's, Harry? You didn't ask Albus for it so that you could find it in your room and help your seer dream come true?"

"No. I didn't even know I'd be allowed in my room, did I, until I got down here this morning." A sudden suspicion began to glimmer in Harry's mind. "Oh, that's why you relented, isn't it? Things got worked out this morning and you knew it was going to go through, and you remembered I had to be in my room if the seer dream was going to happen exactly the way I dreamed it!"

Snape inclined his head. "I should actually have thought of that last night. However, I in no way anticipated that Lucius' posturing would cause Family Services to so abruptly reconsider their earlier refusal of my application to adopt Draco."

Harry nodded, that awful suspicion hollowing out a bleak place inside him. "Oh. I . . . yeah, I understand. And I'm all for the adoption. I think you know that? So, all right, you had to make an exception to your new rule. I get it."

"From the sound of things, you don't," Snape quietly remarked. "In retrospect, forbidding you access to your room was a trifle harsh, especially as I do wish you to regard yourself as welcome here. I simply didn't know what else to do at that instant."

"You didn't know what else to do." Harry was a bit stunned that Snape would admit such a thing.

"I had rather a lot on my mind." Snape quirked a small smile. "I think you know that."

"Yeah, otherwise you'd have just thought of taking away the frame, even if it is Draco's and not mine."

"Taking away that broken mirror appears to have accomplished the same end."

Harry tried not to flinch as he asked in a worried tone, "You didn't banish it or anything, did you? And don't let the house-elves think it's rubbish, all right? 'Cause it's not."

"I've boxed it and put it away," Snape said, studying Harry carefully. "As it had obviously been broken for some time I thought you must have a reason for keeping it."

"How could you tell . . ." When Draco gave him an incredulous look, Harry blushed. "All right, magic. Some of us weren't raised around every last obscure spell, you know."

"What reason can you have for keeping a broken mirror, though?"

Harry couldn't help it; that time he did flinch. What if Snape didn't want to keep it once he knew it used to be a way to contact Sirius? He might think it was unhealthy for Harry to hang onto a thing like that. And that wasn't why he was keeping it, anyway. He knew well enough that the mirror couldn't reach beyond the Veil. "Sentimental value," he said, hating the way his voice croaked. "Sirius gave it to me. D- don't throw it away, all right?"

With a muttered oath, Snape took two steps forward and reached out both his arms, gathering Harry close, one palm pressing the boy's cheek against the soft black fabric of his waistcoat. "I have been too harsh if you can think a thing like that of me."

As long fingers carded carefully through his hair, Harry was horrified to find himself on the verge of tears. He knew that his father loved him, after all. He'd known it even when the man had been shouting at him and telling him to go up to the Tower and stay out of his room. This touch now . . . it shouldn't mean so much.

But it did, so maybe his nightmare had upset him more than he'd thought.

"Perhaps," Draco said after a long, silent moment, "one or both of you could explain this business about my frame?"

Harry pushed away from his father and blinked hard to get himself under control. "Um, remember how we got to watch that Quidditch match on it, and then we--"

"You watched the hearing," Draco at once surmised.

"Yeah, but I had to combine magical artefacts to get it to show the inside of the castle and . . ." Harry looked his brother in the eye. "I broke it. Sorry . . ."

"It was showing the Whomping Willow when I went into the room--"

"That's all it shows. I think because that's what it was showing right before I messed with it. It's . . . stuck, or something. I suppose I could try to fix it--"

"I think not," said Snape, his tone hard but not so much so that it sounded hateful. "The two of you now have an animated depiction of the willow, and the frame will be put to no further use, and that is the end of that. Draco, I trust you will assist me in this matter?"

"How am I supposed to keep Potter here in line? Combining magical artefacts . . ." Draco gave a shudder that didn't look in the least theatrical, for once. "Do you have any notion how dangerous that is? And you, down here all alone! A fully trained wizard wouldn't combine artefacts without researching the matter first, Harry, and he'd make sure he had help in case things didn't go as planned. But not Harry Potter, oh no. He feels free to just let fly with dark powers!" Silver eyes narrowed. "That was the jolt that shook the whole castle, wasn't it?"

"Uh, no, actually, that was me trying my best not to incinerate Lucius--"

"You could have melted the whole castle with all of us in it!" Draco glared, his eyes like chips of frozen silver as he returned his gaze to Snape. "Yes, I'll assist you. I'd rather the frame be destroyed than end up having to watch another horrid funeral after Harry goes too far and lets the damned thing turn him into wizardspace!"

"You watched Miss Parkinson's funeral, Draco?"

Harry kept his voice mild. "Yeah, you weren't objecting so much then, were you now?"

"Because you'd done it before!" cried Draco, baring his teeth. "You said you had! You can bet I'd have objected if you'd started impromptu mixing random magic in!"

Harry didn't think so; he thought Draco had been so desperate to see the funeral that he'd have risked anything. But there was no point in saying so. "I won't do it again," he quietly assured his father and brother. "I'll be good."

"Yes, you will," agreed Snape in a rather dark tone. He was thinking of the mirror, Harry was sure. He'd probably never see it again. Or not until he was twenty-one or something.

Harry looked up at his father, whose black eyes were glimmering with something like sympathy, but the rest of the man's features were carved in resolution. Harry couldn't stop a sigh. First the map, and then his cloak, and now the mirror as well. He was starting to feel like every last memento of James was being methodically stripped away from him. Harry didn't think Snape was doing it on purpose . . . after all, the man didn't even know that the mirror had probably been James' half of the matched pair.

Maybe I should tell him, Harry thought.

But what would be the point in that? Snape did know that the invisibility cloak and map had belonged to James. That hadn't got them returned, had they? And anyway, maybe Harry deserved to lose access to them for a while, if his experimental spells had been as dangerous as Snape and Draco seemed to think.

It would be nice to be trusted though; it really would.

"Well, now that's all cleared up," Draco said a bit waspishly, "perhaps we could get back to the mystery key. What was that about Harry dreaming it?"

Harry turned back to his brother. "I saw this key in a seer dream. The dream where I was getting unadopted, except it turned out I had it backwards and it was about you being adopted."

"How could you mix up those two things?"

Harry scratched a bit at his head. "I don't know anymore. It all made perfect sense at the time--"

"It most certainly did not. I told you I would never repudiate you." Snape looked over at Draco as well. "Nor you."

Draco didn't reply to that, though Harry thought he did look pleased.

"So whose key then?" mused Snape after a moment. Holding it up to the light, he turned it this way and that. "There was no note with it? No indication whatsoever as to who sent it, or why?"

"No---"

"Shite," Draco suddenly exclaimed. He'd been crushing the envelope in one hand, but all at once he relaxed his fingers and pressed the envelope flat between his palms to smooth it out. "I bet I know what's going on."

"What?"

As the other boy lifted the envelope to his lips and whispered to it, Harry felt a sense of déjà-vu surround him. He'd seen that before, hadn't he? Draco sighing and softly talking to a sheet of paper . . . but the paper had been floating in the air that time, not held tight in his hand . . .

The letter from Wiltshire, that was it, Harry thought. The letter from Narcissa. Draco spoke to it, and it gave him no reaction . . .

This time, though, the moment Draco finished speaking his incantation, writing began to scroll itself across the envelope. Writing Harry had seen before.

Narcissa Malfoy's writing.

Draco's hand was shaking as he started reading. He didn't even appear to notice when Snape took him by the arm and gently guided him to sit down on the couch.

"Merlin," he finally breathed. "I . . . you know, I was going to be mature about the money. I really was. You were going to be impressed, Harry. I had it all planned out."

Personally, Harry thought that Draco calling him a fucking imbecile over the whole vault thing was less than impressive. "What are you talking about?"

"My mother." A low laugh rumbled in Draco's throat. "Sweet Merlin, she can plot circles around Lucius when she sets her mind to it. She's just not often willing to. But she did, for me."

By the end there, Draco sounded like he was in raptures.

"Perhaps you could elucidate." Snape raised an eyebrow and simply waited.

"Oh, right. Sorry." Draco began to read out loud:

 

Dragon my dearest treasure, if you are reading this it means that your father's schemes have borne bitter fruit and you have been expelled from school. No doubt he has already informed Gringotts that your vault should revert to the family estate. Lucius has ways of tracking even my separate finances, so I dare not oppose your father directly by offering you any portion of my own holdings. But I have no wish to see you destitute, and by happy coincidence, my great-uncle Walpurgis has suddenly taken ill and died. You will recall that he had kept himself entirely out of the war that was raging when you were born.

Draco turned the envelope over and began reading the back.

 

When you first defied your family heritage, I was distraught for I could foresee nothing but tragedy ahead for you, Dragon my treasure. I went to my uncle, whom I had not seen for many years, and told him you had turned your back on us, as he had once done. I had hoped he might be willing to do something for you, but I fear he did not believe you were sincere, my Dragon. He thought the whole tale some plot to entrap the Potter boy. But I knew that a personal letter from you would convince him--Walpurgis always did fancy himself a fine judge of character.

Flipping the envelope over again, Draco read from the front:

 

Thank you for writing to him as I asked. I know he never replied, but he did do something for you. He made you his sole heir, Dragon my treasure, and appointed me executor, and so I have sent you the key to his vault, now yours. There is more money in it than you could spend in a lifetime, but I still do hope you will use these resources wisely and well. I know you do not believe I love you, Dragon my treasure, and after my public stance I suppose I cannot fault you. But you have indeed been in my thoughts all these many months, and I have done what I could for you. What good would have come of my defending you openly? Your father would have had me slain, and then you would have had no mother to plead your case to Walpurgis.

 

I do love you, Draco, and I always will.

 

Narcissa Black Malfoy

Harry didn't know what to say to all that; he was a little bit embarrassed that by the end, Draco was clearly struggling to hold back tears.

"May I examine it?" asked Snape as he sat down alongside his son.

Draco swallowed twice before he answered. "Yes. But it can't leave my hands, Severus, or the writing will vanish and won't ever come back. It's a special charm my mother uses on her very private correspondence."

Nodding, Snape leaned over to read the writing on the envelope through, his dark eyes thoughtful. Each time the Potions Master glanced at him, Draco turned the envelope over so the man could continue reading.

"That's quite a charm," Harry couldn't help but say. "The front side has two different parts of the letter charmed onto it, one beneath the other."

"My mother's quite a witch." Draco's voice glowed with pride. "And now we know why she didn't simply use owl post to deliver that other letter."

"True," commented Snape. "Of course you knew at the time that she was plotting something, as I recall."

"Yeah, but I thought she was plotting against me, Severus."

"I don't understand," said Harry.

"House-elf magic," Draco explained, his resentment of house-elves so strong it came through even despite his euphoria. "Once Slubby had been invited in, it gave him a means to get back in so he could leave me this key. I suppose the blood wards would have kept him out had he meant you any harm--"

"A house-elf can break into any place where he's once been welcomed?" That didn't sound right.

"No, but he's a Malfoy elf, isn't he, and here I am a Malfoy, and I was the one who let him in--"

"But I thought you weren't a Malfoy," said Harry. "Draco Snape?"

The other boy flushed and looked away. "True. But that was only finalised today, right along with the adoption. Blubby probably snuck in last night when I still was a Malfoy."

"Draco--"

"What, Severus?" Draco huffed slightly. "What? He probably did, you know!"

The Potions Master looked steadily at the boy, and then appeared to relent. "Very well."

Harry looked at them both and then shrugged. Whatever they were talking about was between them, obviously. "If Dubby brought the key last night . . . well, you'd been expelled and your mother clearly knew that, so why would she have sent her message here? She must have known that Severus was working on adopting you? Seems strange she didn't say a single word about that."

"The mere fact she sent Tubby here with the key says enough." Draco smiled. "Remember her other letter? I have no Severus Snape to shelter me . . . She'd rather we both hadn't turned our backs on Lucius, but now that we have, she trusts him to stand by me."

Harry nodded. "So, have you two eaten--"

"I'm fine," said Draco, yawning. "I suppose I ought to write off to Gringotts to find out just what's in this vault. I'm fairly sure that Narcissa as executor would have put there any deeds to property and whatnot; Walpurgis owned at least a couple of estates. But that can wait until tomorrow. I'm rather tired."

"It's strange your relative should die right at this particular time, don't you think? I mean . . . do you think your mother had something to do with that?"

Draco stared at him, then burst out laughing. "You're a bit slow. No, I don't think she had something to do with it; I know full well she poisoned his tea or something! Last night, probably, as soon as she heard I'd been expelled. How do you think she got that key to me so quickly? She must have been at his house yesterday."

"Her favourite uncle though?" Harry sucked in a breath.

"Well, technically he wasn't her uncle, he was her grandfather's second cousin once removed, or something similar. And she hadn't seen him in years and years because of the baby-swapping scandal. She only got in touch with him this year, apparently, so she could make sure he died and left me all his worldly goods. Happy coincidence, my arse. She offed him, plain as day."

"And that doesn't bother you?"

Draco's smile was somewhat condescending. "I didn't know him, Harry, even if I was originally named for him, at least in part. Probably that was just to line me up for his money, come to think of it, but it was a moot point once we found out about his nasty business dealings. It's tainted money as far as the Malfoys are concerned, you see. At any rate, it wasn't my idea to kill him. I didn't even know she had it in mind, so you can hardly lay any blame for this at my door."

"I wasn't blaming you." Harry turned to his father. "What about you, do you need some dinner?"

"Something light, perhaps. And then I will resume trying to discover why the Eyesight Elixir was so painful for you. I still have high hopes of getting your eye back to normal."

Mention of that made Harry remember something else that probably needed attention. "What about Draco's burn? Can't that be healed now? I mean, it's no more use as evidence, is it? With both the Ministry investigation and the expulsion settled?"

"It's as healed as it's going to get," Draco said in a somewhat sour tone. "We tried Scaradicate last night. Several times. But your damned amulet just didn't know when to stop. It wasn't only pouring out heat, but some sort of magical energy, too. It left a mark the salve can't undo."

Harry winced. "Sorry. I didn't think it would hurt you when it warmed up in warning. Really."

"Well, it did. And it left a hideous mark!"

Harry held tight to his patience. "It's not like I planned it that way, Draco."

"No, but trust Harry Potter to pick an amulet with dark powers too!" Draco's eyes narrowed. "Maybe next time you should just buy me something Mugglish, because I don't much appreciate ending up scarred for life!"

Apparently, Draco didn't need those few days the casewitch had predicted; he was acting like a complete prat already. Harry could think of a number of things to reply. At least your scar isn't known the world over. It's not even on constant display. And speaking of things I don't appreciate, how do you think I like having an eye that doesn't work, eh?

He didn't say any of that, though. Maybe he would have, if Draco and he were alone, but with Snape watching, those black eyes of his trained on them both? Draco might forget his father was seeing him toss about these unfair recriminations, but Harry couldn't forget it, not for a minute. He didn't want to disappoint Snape again. It was bad enough that he was going to have to live down the untested magic he'd done.

"Nothing to say?" Draco gestured a bit wildly to emphasise the question, and lost his grip on the parchment envelope he'd been holding all this while. "Oh, wonderful, Potter! You made me lose my mother's last words to me! I wanted to copy them down!"

"It's not Harry's fault that you're acting like a thing deranged," Snape coldly rebuked his Slytherin son. "He meant you nothing but good with that amulet. You know that, Draco. Do you recall my asking you once what time it was?"

That last question sailed clear over Harry's head until Draco gave a heated reply.

"Yes, I remember! But I'm afraid I can't check any longer if it's time to apologise, Severus. That watch disappeared yesterday along with the better portion of everything I had with me at Hogwarts!" When Snape just glared at him, though, Draco conceded. "I am sorry for my rancour. I do know you foolishly believed the amulet would be some sort of asset."

"Draco--"

"Oh, fine then. I wore it so I'm just as much to blame as you are. Does that make it all better?"

Harry swallowed back the scathing retort dancing on the tip of his tongue. "You'd better ask Severus. I'm fine, really."

"Oh, sure you are. You're just trying to show me up again, flaunting your perfect little self like the Gryffindor you are--"

"Gentlemen," Snape calmly interrupted. "I do believe I told you my opinion of sibling rivalry. I won't have it. Is that clear?"

Harry nodded.

For his part, Draco gave a rather haughty shrug.

It must have irritated Snape, who proceeded to say something so close to what Harry had been thinking earlier that he gave his father a sharp look. He didn't really suspect Legilimency, but still . . . it was odd. Maybe it just meant that Snape knew him pretty well.

"I will say, Draco, that the small remaining scar on your chest is not very significant compared to the fact that your brother has been half-blind for over a week, now."

Draco looked down then, the rebuke hitting its mark. "Can I help you research the Elixir?"

Father-son time, Harry thought. The casewitch had warned him that they would need it. "Yeah, you two work on it," he said, backing away mentally as much as physically. "Um, do you think I could use the Floo to go to the headmaster's office? He could walk me back to Gryffindor--"

"You'll stay here as you're integral to the research," said Snape in a hard tone.

Since that all made sense, Harry found himself nodding. He could stay the night, could stick around until Ron and Hermione came back to fetch him. And then for a while he'd be careful not to visit too much; he'd make sure that Draco and Snape got all the time together they could possibly need.

His father wasn't going to accuse him again of thinking only of himself.

He just wasn't.

Chapter End Notes:
Coming Soon in A Year Like None Other

Chapter Seventy-Nine: Nott

Comments very welcome,

Aspen

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