To Snape’s relief, Harry never did ask about the diadem. The boy seemed to consider the entire adventure as related to the alternate reality that Luna inhabited and decided that trying to sort it all out would have deleterious effects on his own sanity. In addition, he really didn’t want to be reminded that a girl had flattened him with one punch, so he pushed the affair out of his mind.

Besides, there were too many other things to occupy his time. In addition to classes and tutoring, Padfoot was continuing his lessons so that eventually he could be an animagus, and he was still dueling with Professor Flitwick. He and his friends usually spent at least one night a week in the dungeons, helping his da with potion ingredients, and Hermione had managed to convince the Potion Master to start teaching her how to make Wolfsbane. Ron and he were both on the Quidditch team this year, and they found they had lots of time to talk about the game, because – unlike last year – they didn’t have to keep dodging pranks from Fred and George.

After realizing that Deputy Headmaster Snape would have a zero tolerance policy for their usual antics, the twins had negotiated a deal that if the professor would help them with their potion ideas, then they wouldn’t resort to pranks as a way to avoid boredom. Since trying their inventions on unwitting victims was a violation of their agreement – and would, according to the professor, gurantee them a whacking by their mother and her wooden spoon in the middle of the Gryffindor Common Room – they had had to seek out a part-time job so as to have funds to pay willing test subjects.

Professor Snape had, with Arthur and Molly’s permission, secured the twins after-school employment at Zonko’s, and both had promptly become fascinated with the economics of small business ownership. They found Percy to be a helpful fount of information, and Ron was delighted to be ignored by the twins for the first time in living memory.

All told, the school year was proceeding with almost unheard-of tranquility, and Snape was feeling rather smug. That feeling evaporated when McGonagall and Dumbledore returned from their latest stage of the horcrux hunt.

Both wore uncharacteristic expressions of defeat as they took their seats around the table with Snape, Sprout, Pomfrey, and Flitwick. It was the night of the full moon, so Lupin and Black were otherwise engaged.

“What progress have you made?” Poppy asked hopefully.

Albus sighed. “Not as much as we had hoped. We were able to confirm that Tom had at one point gained possession of a locket belonging to Salazar Slytherin, and it seemed likely that he had used it to create a horcrux. We tracked the locket to its hiding place in a seaside cave that Tom had protected with a series of enchantments. Many of them were quite routine – anti-apparition wards, invisible rowboats, that sort of thing – but some were rather… inventive.”

Snape shuddered at the idea of what “inventive” might have meant for the Dark Lord.

Minerva took up the tale. “There was a basin with a green, glowing potion in it – no, Severus, I do not know what kind it was,” she added, seeing the younger man lean forward in sudden interest. “But it looked most unpleasant, and given its creator, I had no desire to find out more. It became clear that in order to empty the chalice and recover the locket, the potion had to be drunk.” The others gasped in horror. “As usual,” Minerva went on, rather acerbically, “Albus was willing to play the martyr and sacrifice himself, but of course that was unnecessary.”

Albus twinkled at the stern witch. “Not all of us are as clever or imaginative as you, my dear,” he gently replied. “You must not be cross with me for being so conventional.”

The listeners goggled. Albus Dumbledore conventional? What on earth had Minerva come up with?

“Well, don’t be so mysterious, Minerva!” Sprout exclaimed. “Tell us what you did!”

Minerva turned rather pink. “It was nothing,” she demurred.

Albus chuckled. “This clever, innovative, and talented witch promptly transfigured several beetles into elephants and had them suck up the potion with their trunks and squirt it into a tank that Minerva also transfigured. That appeared to have satisfied the enchantment’s requirement that the potion be ‘drunk’, even though the beasts did not, in the end, have to ingest it.”

Minerva fluttered a hand dismissively at the others’ admiring glances. “The difficult part was Imperiusing the elephants to drink the potion, and Albus did that. But even if they had had to consume the potion, it would have been easy to simply transfigure new elephants as needed. There were many insects in the cave, after all.”

“Good gracious!” Poppy stared at her old friend with awe. “That was very, very clever, Minerva!”

“Once that was done, it was simple to pluck the locket from the bottom of the basin,” Dumbledore explained.

“Unfortunately, once we had the locket and left the cave, we discovered we were no further ahead. Someone else had beaten us to it,” Minerva sighed. She held out the locket and showed them the hidden note: “ ‘To the Dark Lord’ ” she read aloud, “ ‘I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more. - R.A.B.’ So you see, after all that trouble, this locket is a fake, and we have no idea where the real one may be.”

“Perhaps it truly has been destroyed?” Poppy offered hopefully.

“Perhaps,” Albus agreed gently. “But without proof of its fate, we remain vulnerable. For all we know, Voldemort was able to recover the original and left this one as a decoy. With all due modesty, the enchantments in that cave would likely have proved fatal to less powerful or less experienced wizards than Minerva and myself.”

“Oh, dear.” Sprout mourned.

“What is our next step?” Flitwick asked.

Dumbledore spread his hands. “We have come to a dead end. Minerva and I have searched everywhere else we can think of, without success. We hoped one of you might have a fresh idea.”

Silence fell as the witches and wizards thought. It was quiet for several long minutes, until Minerva finally broke into speech. “Oh, Albus, I feel I’ve been no help to you. Perhaps it would have been better to bring Severus along. Maybe he would have had more ideas of where to look or would have spotted something which I missed,” she cried out in frustration.

Albus caught her hand. “Minerva, my dear, it is no slight to Severus or anyone else at this table when I say that there is no one whom I trust more than you. You have already saved my life at least twice, and I can think of no one else whom I would rather have at my side on such a mission.”

McGonagall smiled. “That’s very kind, but I can’t help thinking –“ Abruptly she broke off, bemusement crossing her features.

“Minerva?” Dumbledore said tentatively.

“Perhaps that’s it, Albus. We have been so focused on Tom Riddle, we forget that even he has allies and friends. Perhaps he trusted one of them with a horcrux?”

Dumbledore nodded slowly, pulling at beard. “Tom was always incredibly charismatic – as witnessed by his success with the Grey Lady,” he agreed. “His followers would surely do anything for him. Severus,” he turned to the Potion Master, “whom would you say Tom trusted more than anyone else?”

Snape didn’t hesitate. “Bellatrix Black LeStrange was the Dark Lord’s most loyal and most favored follower.”

“But she has been in Azkaban for years,” Sprout objected.

“Yes, but not until after You Know Who vanished,” Flitwick pointed out. “He would have entrusted her with a horcrux before her imprisonment.”

“But all her possessions are gone,” Poppy said. “She couldn’t have it with her in Azkaban.”

“No, but I’m sure she still has a vault at Gringotts,” Flitwick countered. “Wouldn’t she have stored such a treasure there? If You Know Who told her to guard it against all dangers?”

“So what good does that do?” Sprout asked. “Surely you’re not thinking of breaking into Gringotts!”

The teachers all paused to chuckle at the absurdity of that idea. “No, no, my dear Pomona,” Dumbledore said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “I can’t imagine that that will be necessary. I think we shall start by speaking with Bill Weasley. His familiarity with the goblins may give us some helpful insight as to how best to proceed.

“But in the meantime, I understand we have happy news to celebrate!” he twinkled at Snape, who glared at him on sheer principle.

“Well, my boy,” Dumbledore prompted. “Will you not tell the others?”

Snape grumbled. “I only told you because as Head of the Wizengamot, you had to approve the matter. I certainly did not intend to alert the entire Wizarding world.”

“Now, now, glad tidings should always be shared,” Albus chided.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, what is it?” Poppy demanded with some asperity.

Snape looked away and mumbled something.

“What?”

He mumbled again, and finally Dumbledore, with an exasperated look at the younger man, spoke up. “Severus has formally adopted Harry.”

There were gasps and cries of congratulations, which just served to make Snape squirm in even more embarrassment. In truth, though, he had avoided telling anyone out of a conviction that everyone would scream in horror, not joy, and immediately do their best to void the proceedings.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Flitwick scolded happily, stretching up to pat the saturnine professor’s shoulder. “This calls for a celebration!”

Sprout was sniffling sentimentally into her handkerchief. “Oh, this is such a happy day! How could you keep this to yourself? I must go to the greenhouse and find some flowers to mark the occasion!”

To Snape’s astonishment, Poppy bent over to kiss him on the cheek. “I can see you keeping the matter quiet, Severus, but how on earth have you managed to prevent Harry from shouting the news from the Astronomy Tower?”

“Erm, well, I haven’t actually told him yet – “ Snape began uncomfortably.

“No? But Filius is quite correct: we must commemorate the occasion with a party!” Albus declared. “We can invite the Weasleys and –“

“I hardly think such extravagance –“ Snape tried again, but it was clear that no one was listening to him, and the other faculty excitedly made plans for a big party in a few days’ time – to give Remus the chance to recover from the full moon.

Only Minerva withdrew from the excitement and came to sit next to Snape. “You are indeed a good man, Severus,” she said quietly. “Harry is a very lucky boy.”

He huffed and looked away, not wanting to show how much her words pleased him.

“But,” she began, and he looked at her sharply. Ah yes, there is always a ‘but’, isn’t there? “But you must share the news with Harry privately, before the party. This sort of news isn’t something to learn in front of a crowd.”

Snape nodded impatiently. Did she truly think he hadn’t realized that for himself? What if the boy howled in protest? Or disgust?

Just because Harry had accepted the notion of Snape assuming the role of a guardian and even chose to call him by some ridiculous title, didn’t mean he would welcome the fact that the Potion Master had legally assumed the role of his father. It was quite possible that he would see this as some form of betrayal of James and pitch a fit.

Not that Snape would be swayed by such an outburst. He knew that to properly protect Harry, he needed full control of the boy, and adoption was the only way to get it. Harry might not like it, but that was too bad. Snape wasn’t about to take any chance that Dumbledore would one day object to his handling of the brat or that Sirius would regret his decision not to demand custody. No, he needed the formal adoption to make sure that his would be the final say in the brat’s life for the next five years.

He’d been rather amazed that it had gone through as smoothly and quietly as it had. He supposed that he had the new Minister and Dumbledore to thank for that, not that his preparatory work in securing the Weasleys’ support, not to mention Black’s and Lupin’s, hadn’t been a good idea.

He had even gone to the Dursleys to obtain their signatures, formally renouncing all ties to the boy. That had been great fun, actually. He hadn’t known how inventive a demented house elf could be, and it had taken several calming draughts to get Vernon and Petunia just to the point where they could hold a pen and sign their names legibly.

Still, having the requisite support hadn’t really convinced him that the application would succeed. After all, allowing The Boy Who Lived to be adopted by a former Death Eater? Skeeter could have had a field day with that story!

And yet all was quiet in the press, though he knew the reporter must have sources throughout the Ministry. He wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, however, and he had already been planning to take advantage of the unexpected news blackout to inform Harry.

“I will tell him. Tomorrow,” he agreed curtly, and McGonagall nodded in approval.

”Good. And you may wish to wear old robes when you do,” she smirked as she rose.

Snape glared after her. So the old witch expected Harry to scream and throw things, did she? As if he didn’t know enough shield charms to protect himself!

The next evening, however, he did dress in old robes and ensure that nothing valuable nor particularly heavy was within arms’ reach when he summoned the boy to his chambers.

“Hi, Da!” Harry greeted his guardian with his usual good humor. He wasn’t sure why the man had called for him, but he was reasonably confident that he wasn’t in any trouble. There was no way that anyone could have found out it was Draco, Ron, and him in the kitchens that night. The house elves had been sworn to secrecy, and it really could have been anybody who had carefully placed a dozen blueberry pies on the seats of the Hufflepuff common room chairs then erected disillusionment charms over them.

Just because Professor Flitwick had recently taught him the spell didn’t prove anything; plenty of the older kids already knew the charm. And really, if the ‘Puffs were going to go around boasting about how they were the good House, who didn’t get into trouble or start fights or anything, they were just asking to be pranked, right? Not to mention that if they couldn’t be troubled to keep their secret password secret, then that was really the same as inviting non-Hufflepuffs to visit… or at least that’s how Draco had argued the point.

Harry was pretty sure that no one would think to accuse Draco and Ron of doing anything together, and they’d been careful to pick a night when the twins were already confined to the infirmary after their latest potion unexpectedly blew up, giving them hideously enlarged noses. Perhaps even more importantly, they also chose a time when Hermione and Neville were both distracted by an upcoming Herbology exam. Hermione and Neville were unlikely to be blamed, as the twins might, but they were also unlikely to approve of the prank and could let something slip accidentally. Harry doubted that even Hermione would actually stoop to tattling, but as Draco pointed out, he didn’t want the little witch scolding him for the rest of the school year either.

But even if his da had found out, through some mysterious parental magic, Harry figured it had been worth it to see the indignant ‘Puffs stalking around the castle with purple stains on their bums. The previously placid House had had its ire aroused and had let it be known that when they discovered the culprits, they would retaliate. Now Harry and his friends were trying desperately to come up with a way to make the ‘Puffs think it had been the Ravens. Then they could sit back and watch the sparks fly!

“Sit down, Potter,” his da ordered, sounding unusually stern. “I have something… serious... to discuss with you.”

Harry bit his lip. Uh oh. This didn’t sound good. Should he confess in the hopes of keeping the other two out of it? Or had he done something else to make his da eye him in that unnerving fashion?

“You may find what I have to tell you to be distressing,” Snape continued, feeling incredibly awkward. How was he supposed to break the news that he had unilaterally supplanted the boy’s parents? It wasn’t as if he was going to insist the boy change his surname, for Merlin’s sake, but the adoption would still technically the replacement of one father with another. Snape would not have been surprised if the ghost of James Potter appeared and punched him in the nose. Dear Earth Science News, If you note a new wobble in the earth’s orbit, I suggest you investigate a certain grave in Godric’s Hollow. Its resident is likely to be spinning at such a speed as to interfere with planetary motion…

“Wh- what is it, Da?” Now Harry was getting nervous. Even if his part in the prank had been discovered, he really hadn’t expected anything worse than a detention or essay – and maybe a public apology to the ‘Puffs. After all, the elves would eventually be able to get the stains out the Hufflepuffs’ robes, and while the three of them had been out well after curfew, technically being out at 3 AM wasn’t so different from just getting up really early.

The boys honestly hadn’t worried that much about being caught – Professor Sprout was a really soft touch, and if they had begged hard enough, she’d probably have agreed to punish them herself, rather than turning them over to Professors Lupin or Snape. And a detention in the greenhouses wasn’t so awful. But now the look on his da’s face was making him worry that he’d disastrously misjudged the situation. Why else would he be so – oh, no!

“Did something happen to Moony last night?” he blurted, a new fear striking him. “Or Padfoot?”

Snape’s unease had reduced his patience even more than usual. “They’re fine,” he snapped. “Now be still and listen!” He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I have done something which you may not like, but you will just have to adjust to the situation,” he said sternly.

“Okay,” Harry said anxiously. What could his da be talking about?

“You will recall that, roughly a year ago, you asked me to be your guardian.”

Harry nodded, his heart suddenly hammering. Oh no! After a whole year, his da must have gotten tired of having him around, and he was giving up the guardianship. Harry began to suck in panicky breaths.

“After the events of last year, and the changes that this new school year has brought, it has become clear to me that an informal guardianship was not the ideal situation,” Snape continued awkwardly. He hoped that if he spelled things out, the brat might realize that the adoption was all for the best.

“Y’sir.” Harry forced the words out of his dry throat. He was not going to blub like a baby. Of course the professor was too busy to keep looking out for him. He was the Deputy Headmaster now, and hadn’t Harry proven how much trouble he could be? Last year, barely a month had gone by without some kind of crisis. And now with Padfoot and Moony at the school, naturally Professor Snape must feel relieved that someone else was available to look after such a burdensome charge. It wasn’t like his first father had been friends with Professor Snape, or even particularly nice to him. It was just that Professor Snape was so kind that he’d taken Harry on when no one else would.

“And so…” Snape found he had to clear his throat again, “I – ah – I took certain necessary steps and – erm – “ Oh, for Merlin’s sake! He was stammering like a firstie! Just spit it out and let the boy have his tantrum! “ – Ihavegoneaheadandadoptedyou.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t possibly have heard what he thought he’d heard. Barely breathing, he whispered, “What did you say, sir?”

Snape glowered at the brat. Look at him – all pale and shaking! Obviously he was about to burst into shrieks of outrage any second. “You heard me,” he snapped. “I have adopted you. You are now legally my son.” There. Potter would just have to deal with it.

Harry fought to make sense of the man’s words. He was adopted? But – but that meant that the professor could never give him up. That he’d be stuck with Harry forever. Could he possibly have heard correctly?

“Y-you mean you don’t want to give me away?”

Snape blinked. “What?” What was the boy babbling? Give him away? To whom?

“You don’t mind being my da? Forever?” Harry gulped.

“You don’t mind my adopting you? Formally?” Snape demanded.

“Why would I mind that?” Harry asked blankly. “But why would you want it? It means you can’t get rid of me. Not ever.”

Snape scowled at the brat. “Idiot. I have no intention of getting rid of you, now or in the future. Do you think me so fickle in my promises?”

“But what if you want to have your own kids one day? Or you decide I’m too much trouble? Or that -”

“Foolish brat.” The fleeting pity Snape had felt for the Dursleys was rapidly evaporating in the face of this reminder of Harry’s very fragile sense of self-worth. “I already have a son. You,” he added, not willing to take a chance with Gryffindorish understanding. “In the unlikely event I someday decide to have other children, you will remain the eldest. And if the Weasleys have never seen fit to toss back the twins, I cannot imagine why you think I will find you overly troublesome. I would have thought that even a Gryffindor would have come to realize that my presence in your life is of a permanent nature, but obviously I was wrong and you have considered our relationship merely temporary. Well, these adoption papers should set you straight.” He dropped the official scroll on the table between them, and Harry dazedly picked it up.

He scanned the form and sure enough, that’s exactly what it said. He, Harry James Potter, was from this day forward recognized under Wizarding law to be the legal son and heir of Severus Snape. There were a lot of fancy terms and big words, but that part was crystal clear. He had a father. A legal, proper, no-question-about-it father.

“D-does this change anything?” he asked tentatively, looking up at his da.

Snape frowned. Why didn’t the brat get on with the howling already? “Such as?” At Harry’s uncertain shrug, he snorted impatiently. “I can hardly attempt to answer such a general and poorly phrased question, Mr Potter, but suffice it to say that I do not anticipate any changes of note. You will still have access to your dogfather and the wolf, you may still spend time with the Weasley clan, and I have no intention of changing the rules which govern your behavior. Now – given those facts, do you wish to clarify your question?”

Harry breathlessly shook his head. He could barely believe his luck. His da hadn’t changed his mind at all! He was only making his relationship with Harry more permanent, not less.

Snape felt puzzled. Why wasn’t Potter yelling and screaming, or at least complaining bitterly about not having been consulted. “Don’t you have any objections?” he finally asked.

Now Harry wore the puzzled expression. “Why would I?” he replied. “Like you said, I asked you to take care of me.”

“Well, yes,” Snape admitted, “but you didn’t ask for me to adopt you.”

The beaming smile that spread across Harry’s face seriously confused the dour professor.

“Yeah, I know,” Harry agreed happily. “I never would’ve asked for something like that. I mean, that’s like asking for the biggest, best present in the whole world! Even Draco would’ve been too shy to ask for something like that, but you gave it to me anyway.”

Snape’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged. Had the little fiend just suggested that being adopted by him was equivalent to “the biggest, best present in the whole world”? He fought down the urge to clean out his ears. “Well... so long as you’re pleased,” he finally managed to mumble, and then the brat’s pointy forehead crashed into his breastbone and he was rendered wholly incapable of speech. At least that’s how he explained his inarticulateness to himself.

Harry finally lifted his head from his da’s robes and wiped his eyes. He really needed to stop bawling like a girl every time his da did something nice for him, though he figured that getting adopted was special enough that even a grown up might blub a bit.

“I’ll be a really good son,” he promised fiercely. “You’ll see.”

“Silly child.” Snape’s voice was unaccountably hoarse to his own ears. “You have already proven yourself to be a g-good son,” he stumbled slightly over the unaccustomed words. “Though I will of course expect you to continue to behave yourself and act with appropriate decorum,” he added quickly, never one to miss an opportunity to remind the brat of his obligations.

“I will!” Harry vowed, so overcome by the enormity of his father’s actions that he didn’t even roll his eyes at the stern words.

“Hmf.” Snape didn’t actually snort in derision, but he made it plain that he had a very realistic view of a 12 year old’s usual conduct.

“Erm, Da…” Harry said tentatively. “Can I – y’know – tell anyone?”

Snape gave a long-suffering sigh and realized his arm was, for some inexplicable reason, still draped around the boy’s shoulders. He quickly removed it, even as he said, “I believe that the other faculty are planning to hold some sort of… festivity… tomorrow. You should speak with your Head of House to ensure that your friends are included.”

Harry bounced up excitedly. “Wow! A party? For us? Wicked!” He darted for the door. “I’ll be sure t’tell Moony – I mean, Professor Lupin – that you like those little spice biscuits that Dobby makes.”

“Potter! Don’t you dare – “ Snape began. It would do his reputation no good for his addiction to the house elf’s baked goods to become public knowledge.

But before he could finish his stiff injunction, Harry had returned and thrown himself back into his da’s arms, knocking the startled man against the sofa cushions. “Thank you thank you thank you!” the boy whispered. “You’re the best da ever!”

And then he was gone, pelting out the door as if a horde of Death Eaters were in hot pursuit. Snape looked after him, feeling rather as if he’d been hit with a Confundus charm. Potter was happy, no, ecstatic, to have been adopted by him? Perhaps – just perhaps – he wasn’t quite as horrible at this parenting thing as he had feared…