January 1998 – Wizarding Britain
The two cloaked figures stepped up to what seemed like a stage, the area was full of people who parted a path for these two. Men of all shapes and sizes, each one armed heavily, were watching them as they walked by. The two, one obviously shorter than the other glided up the steps to where it was another, elderly man was waiting.
They both knelt down and lowered their hoods, the first, taller was a man with feathery jet black hair, and eyes as dark as a starless night. His thin lips were set upon a strong jaw and his eyes framed by high cheek bones. His skin was as pale as the moon, with no blemishes, only one scar which could just about be seen under his left ear. His ears were decorated with many rings, some of them with charms hanging off. The rest of the man was hidden by the long thick cloak he was wearing. The smaller man had an aura of power around him, long black hair was braided in a single plat that ran down his back, his emerald eyes shone out from his pale cheeks like gems. His cheek bones had a slight pink tinge that gave off an air of innocence, his full red lips added to the feeling. He unlike the other had many scars; one of the most significant ones was the lightning bolt of his forehead. Everyone who saw that knew who he was knew of the horrors he had faced as a baby yet they all seemed content with letting it go on. He like the other had many rings on his ears. Both stayed still as the other man approached armed with a sword.
The elderly man approached his sword raised; He lowered it until it sat upon Severus' shoulder minutely before doing the same to Harry. He then put it where the two men's shoulders met and pressed down. "I Harunli, Master of Warlocks, do accept and give a place to both Severus Tobias Snape-Potter and Harry James Potter-Peverell-Black-Gryffindor-Slytherin-Snape, may they forever be welcomed in our halls and arms, and they shall be the Unit of Choice, of Blood and of Fate. May they be of help when the time comes and may we help them when the need arises, blood shall sing and each will be called to station, may the blood of our brother's flow through us all! Come now and join us, as our brothers in blood and arms. May you adopt a new name! Be thy blood of Warlocks!" The man stepped back and allowed a small smile, he then lifted the sword and allowed the blood upon it to drip into a cup, and each was then shown to the cup and allowed a sip, it was then passed around everyone within the area, when they were done the man drank the rest and began to speak again. "Rise, brothers of mine! Let us celebrate this night before your long journey begins!"