The Saturday of the Binding arrived in what seemed like only a few minutes. Harry had spent nearly every waking moment filling in forms and worrying about Aunt Petunia and Dudley. He sent an owl first thing Wednesday evening, despite his aunt and uncle's abhorrence of anything out of the ordinary, anything that hinted of the Magical world, which embarrassed them to no end. But regular post would never arrive on time. And, too, he realized, he wasn't exactly sure HOW to send a regular post envelope from Hogwarts. In the letter addressed specifically to Aunt Petunia, he explained everything he could, hoping that the thought of someone else taking responsibility for him would be worth her and Dudley's attendance, no matter how distasteful that would be. He also sent an urgent post owl using one of the school owls to Mrs. Weasley, explaining the situation and begging for her help in getting Aunt Petunia and Dudley properly dressed and prepared for the occasion. He had little notion of what dress robes for a witch cost. He figured double a wizard's, so he enclosed enough for three of the robes he'd worn to the Yule Ball a couple of years back. He feared for Uncle Vernon's response, but hoped for the best.
He then set out to fill in the paperwork, which required a detailed listing of every penny he possessed, property he owned (#12 Grimmauld Place and his parent's home in Godric's Hollow), any further obligations (none that he knew of), any further assets (did the Invisibility Cloak and Marauder's Map count? No, he decided). He spent hours working on it. Even Hermione was impressed with his diligence.
Hermione had spent nearly as much time researching the ceremony in the library ("Wizard and Witches' Ceremonies in the Modern Era").
"There's a lot more about the paperwork, lawyers, and obligations than the actual ceremony," she noted in some confusion. "Most of the other entries describe things more, and some even have pictures." She showed Harry and Ron a series of photos, particularly of weddings, noting the robes she liked and considering what colors were best. Ron paid almost no attention. "So, I still don't know what will happen today. You've filled in all the papers, right?"
"Yes, nearly ran out of ink doing it, too." said Harry, rubbing a sore hand and wrist. "Well, I better go get dressed. Dress robes are expected, right, Hermione?" She nodded.
Ron groaned. "For us, too?" Harry felt bad that this meant that Ron needed to put on his dress robe, which was both unfashionable AND now at least a size too small and several inches too short. But there was nothing to be done about it. The description of the ceremony was clear.
"Afraid so, but it's not like everyone in the school will be there. Snape insisted it be private, with as small a gathering as possible, in the Headmaster's office," Harry said, hoping this was reassuring. At least it was a better location than the dungeons.
Ron's only response was to grunt and march up to the boys' dormitory to face his sentence.
Harry felt more than a little nervous as he observed himself in the mirror, his green dress robe smelling like it had been in storage for more than a year (it had) and being too short, though not as short as Ron's, who'd managed to grow at least two more inches over the summer. Harry tried as much as possible not to even look at Ron, for fear of breaking out in laughter. The lace cuffs and neck and the ancient patchy maroon velvet spoke of many years having gone by since these were the fashion. And now the hem was nearly up to his knees, his wrists and forearms sticking out miserably.
Dean Thomas stuck his head in the door suddenly. "Yo, Ron. Your mum's here, waiting on you in the common room." Ron looked aggravated by Dean's seeing him dressed so, but Dean managed to stifle his laugh, mostly.
In the common room, Mrs. Weasley's smiling face grew serious when she took in the sight of her son. "Ron! Merlin's beard, you've grown." She shoved a large box in his hands and shooed him back up the steps. "Go, put these on. Quickly now, it's going to start in about 20 minutes! And wash you face, too, you've still got breakfast on your chin!" Ginny tried to shush Seamus and Dean, but that only made them chuckle more loudly. Ron snatched the box and bounded up the stairs two at a time. Harry was about to ask Mrs. Weasley what was in the box (maybe Bill's wedding robe?), but Ron reappeared too quickly.
The box apparently held brand new dress robes, for that was what Ron had on now. Harry tried not to stare or make a big deal about then, but they were quite stylish and well-fitted. Hermione was speechless, her mouth open at the now-dashing figure Ron cut. Ginny burst out laughing, only to be hushed up by her mother. "Look out, Hermione, you might have competition after this." Ron threw a nearby pillow at her, which she caught and prepared to throw back, until she caught her mother's icy stare. Ginny fluffed the pillow self-consciously and put in the chair. "See you later, dreamboy." Ron, Harry and Mrs. Weasley exited quickly and took off for Snape's office.
Arriving at the door, Harry intended to take a couple of breaths, but Ron quickly said the password (asphodel) and stepped out of the hall as quickly as possible. Harry could sense that he was trying to avoid being seen and followed immediately. Mrs. Weasley said "I'll be there in just a moment," and took off down the corridor towards the Entrance Hall. The heavy oaken door closed quickly after she departed. As they mounted the revolving stone staircase, Harry heard unexpected voices.
Arriving at the top of the staircase, Professor Snape stood to his considerable height and came from behind the desk, now cleared of parchments, quills, ink, and books.
"Advocate Hobble, I don't believe you've met Harry Potter yet." Harry extended his hand to a short, portly though relatively young wizard, dressed in dark green dress robes trimmed in silver that shimmered in the light of the room when he moved. "What house must he have been in," Harry wondered to himself. "Couldn't have left school more than four or five years ago."
"Pleased to meet you, sir," said Harry.
The young wizard pumped his hand enthusiastically. "Good to meet you, so pleased to represent you and your interests, Mr. Potter."
"My interests, is he saying he likes Quidditch?" Harry puzzled in his head.
Snape then turned to Harry. "Harry, this is … our … lawyer, Advocate Arboreus Hobble."
Still shaking, Harry cottoned on and now returned a more enthusiastic shake. "I see, yes, thank you," he said, his mind turning over.
Snape gestured in Ron's direction. "Harry's Second Witness, Ronald Weasley."
Hobble turned to Ron. "I can see the family resemblance. I've met your mum and dad at the Ministry when I've had business there, though only in passing. I spend most of my time in court, of course." He gave Snape a knowing glance, to which Snape returned daggers. He looked away quickly and suddenly became very conscious of his briefcase, which was of very elegant dragonhide, also green, with spikes along the outer edges.
"I'll just start getting ready while we wait for the others," he said rapidly, and began to pull out piles of papers from his case, until Snape's desk was nearly overflowing, though the briefcase looked like it might only hold a small novel. He muttered to himself as he stacked and organized the papers.
Just as he finished and turned around, the door opened and Mrs. Weasley bustled in, followed by Aunt Petunia and Dudley. She greeted Snape with a handshake, which he returned with diffidence. Then she turned to Aunt Petunia and Dudley.
Harry thought he could not have been more surprised that they had even shown up. He had assumed that Uncle Vernon would simply not allow it and he would have to make some excuse, and probably fill out about 100 more forms to explain their absence. But she was here, with Dudley in tow, looking for all the world like he might pass out at any moment, gaping open-mouthed at the room with its tall windows, magical instruments, and strangely dressed occupants. But now, they both fit right in, at least in their manner of dress. His aunt and cousin were now decked out in proper dress robes, including shoes and hats. Aunt Petunia was in a blue robe with a matching conical hat featuring a long white feather. She quivered as though she would have preferred to sink into the floor, but Mrs. Weasley just beamed.
"Isn't she just lovely, we were so lucky to find this. It was on sale, a real steal," she gushed. "I wouldn't have wanted you to be uncomfortable, my dear," Mrs. Weasley said, taking Petunia's hand. "It can be hard to be the odd man, or woman, out." No doubt Mrs. Weasley meant well, but Petunia could only nod mutely and recoil. Mrs. Weasley went on, oblivious to Aunt Petunia's discomfort, turning to Dudley, who shrank back, as if that were possible, as she took the sleeve of his robe. "And Dudley, I couldn't have imagined how wonderful this looks on you. It really brings out your color!"
It did, indeed. Dudley's face nearly matched the maroon shade, which Harry noted was similar to Ron's.
"We had such a good time shopping, didn't we?" At last she seemed to become uncomfortably aware that she was the only one speaking and that Snape and Hobble were looking quite ready to get on with things. Aunt Petunia remained uncomfortably silent, but managed a small, nervous smile. Dudley seemed dazed, clearly unaccustomed to being woken before noon on a Saturday.
Snape cleared his throat and said "This is Advocate Arboreus Hobble, and I am Headmaster of Hogwarts, Severus Snape." At this, Aunt Petunia gasped and stared at him.
"S-s-s-everus Snape?" she choked out, looking at him with some combination of fear, revulsion, and recognition.
"Yes," said Snape, unsurprised.
"You grew up in Spinner's End, I remember you. You were Lily's... friend, weren't you?" she rambled on.
"Yes," Snape replied shortly.
"Well, she told me all about you…" she began.
Snape raised a hand slightly and she stopped suddenly, as though she was concerned that he would hex her into silence otherwise. "Everyone necessary is here, perhaps we should begin."
"Yes," she said hurriedly, snapping her mouth shut and stepping back protectively in front of Dudley, though her skinny frame offered little protection to her son's height and width. She kept a wary eye on the Headmaster.
Hobble cleared his throat and began. "We are here today to witness the joining in bond of Harold James Potter to Severus Snape. As such, you who stand in witness today, Harry's blood relatives and Severus's … chosen witnesses, agree that this bond should take place and acknowledge that heretofore they shall take on both the obligations and prosperity of the other, in perpetuity. If you so agree, please raise your wands." Mrs. Weasley raised hers, while Aunt Petunia looked confused.
"Oh, dear," said Mrs. Weasley in embarrassment. "I hadn't thought of that. What should we do, Mr. Hobble?"
Mr. Hobble looked amazed. Mrs. Weasley leaned in to him and muttered, "They're Muggles, but they're the only family he's got."
"I see," Hobble said, and dug in his bag. "Hmm, that's not the one, nope not that one." Snape gave an impatient grunt, and suddenly Hobble found just what he needed. "Here it is," he said, drawing out a thick, dusty volume from the sleek bag. "Muggle witnesses to a bonding….page 394." Harry considered that a good omen. "Muggles in attendance at a bonding ceremony will raise their right hands, as they would do to pledge in a Muggle ceremony. Good solution, very empathetic, though I can't imagine what it means. Alright then, raise your right hands, if that's what you do…"
They did so. Harry was just relieved that they didn't object, although the way Dudley was eyeing the fierce looking dragon briefcase suggested he was worried for the condition of his leg if he did.
On it continued. For hours. Papers were signed here, initialled there. Wands and right hands raised repeatedly. It really did mean more than Harry knew. The forms noted his bank accounts, the house at Grimmauld place, as well as any future holdings or property he might earn or come into. His pile of papers grew higher and higher as they worked through them all. They documented his obligation to Snape, featuring debts, liens on property, prison sentences, ransoms, all in effect until death, spelling out in painful detail any of a large number of infirmities and frailties, none of which would sever the bond, other than death. Then they documented the extended procedure to document and confirm the death. Then the funeral obligations. Wizards and witches left no possibility unexplored in contemplating the future.
Then, they began the same, for Snape's obligations to Harry for the remainder of his future, which also included schooling, a future wife, possible future children (enumerated only up to six, at which Mrs. Weasley snorted), in addition to covering his funeral in the event of his death prior to Snape.
The remaining pile of papers seemed impossibly short. Harry waited for Hobble to drag out another pile of papers to detail Snape's property, but he did not do so. The Advocate looked around, until Snape said coldly "That is all, Hobble."
Hobble snapped up, looked highly embarrassed, then lifted the paper, reading it closely. "Harold James Potter will be partner in the fortune of Severus Snape in the measure of 4,583 Galleons, 26 sickels, and 34 knuts." Hobble looked at Harry expectantly, but Harry remained silent.
Harry had more than that the day he found out he was a wizard. That wasn't even half a year's salary for a first-year professor, never mind an experienced teacher or Headmaster. Snape didn't seem like a person who tended to spend excessively, given that even his dress robes worn today appeared to be not only ancient, but very rarely worn and not extravagant. He wore no gold, silver, or jewels. Wouldn't he have inherited his family's home in Spinner's End, having no other family with whom to split it? Where would he spend his time off from school?
Snape met no one's eyes, but stared impassively at the empty place on the desk where the last parchment had come from.
"Alrighty, then," said Hobble, breaking the very uncomfortable silence. "The Binding." The Advocate stuffed all of the considerable stacks of paper and the large reference book back into the bag, which appeared to chew and swallow them, to Dudley's wide-eyed horror. The desk now clean, the lawyer stepped away from it.
Harry thought this was a rather unceremonious way to end a Wizard ceremony, and he was right.
Hobble drew a short silver dagger from the inside pocket of his waistcoat, and gestured for Snape and Harry to face one another. Petunia, Dudley, Ron, and Mrs. Weasley made an outer circle, with Mrs. Weasley giving Petunia the better position beside Snape and Harry ("So you can see," she whispered.).
The silence in the room was enormous, which Snape broke, saying "You can still back out of this, Potter. The papers can be burned."
Harry looked up at the gaunt and pale man, thinking of all he owed him even before this moment. "Never," he said. He drew back the sleeve of his robe, knowing what was coming. Snape's expression never changing, he did the same. With a quick slice and slice, he drew blood from both Harry's and Snape's wrists, while Mrs. Weasley muttered "Combino perpetua" as she waved her wand over Petunia's shoulder. A yellow golden rope emerged, binding their hands together.
Yet again, Harry felt it strange to touch the Potion Master's hand, and remembered with a small grin one of the first times Snape had touched him, giving him a smack across the head in detention for some impertinent comment. The smile passed away as he felt some of Snape's life force enter his own blood, a rush of determination, fierceness, and loyalty that he hadn't felt so strongly before. Snape seemed surprised as well, by whatever it was from Harry that entered him. Harry hoped it was some part of his mother, some part of love, some gift of spirit that could invade the fortress that was Severus Snape.
Mrs. Weasley had tears in her eyes as the golden rope faded and Harry released Snape's hand. She nearly hugged Snape, then thought the better of it and hugged Harry extra hard, instead, then Ron, for unknown reasons. Petunia sat down, as did Dudley, relieved to sit after so long, and pleased that nothing had bitten her or exploded.
"Sir, what should I call you now?" Harry asked, when the others had departed downstairs to attend to the small reception that was planned.
"Headmaster, Sir, or Professor will do nicely, Potter. Don't imagine that this will earn you favors over other students or that you can address me casually now," Snape retorted.
"Of course not, sir, I wouldn't dream of it," Harry said quickly. "But in private, when it's just us, I mean, not in front of other students."
Snape paused and considered. "What did Mr. Black allow himself to be called, then?" he said, biting down on Sirius' name.
"Sirius, sir. I just called him Sirius. And he called me Harry."
Snape looked mildly annoyed. "Severus, then, Potter. You can call me Severus. But only at times when I am acting in my capacity as your godfather, understood?"
"Yes, sir, understood." Harry paused, anxious at trying out a new name for his Headmaster. "You can count on it, Severus."
Snape looked like he was ready to bark a reply, insisting on respect, as he had so many times before. He stared into the fire for a moment too long, then said, "Alright then, Harry, let's go down to the Great Hall. I believe Mrs. Weasley may have arranged a small reception at which we are expected to appear. The first of my no doubt many obligations."
Indeed, it really was a small reception, taking up one end of the Gryffindor table. The house elves had prepared a mouth-watering spread of elaborately decorated cookies, small sandwiches, and fruit. Harry was pleased to see no Chocolate Frogs, Puking Pastilles, or Every-flavor beans, in deference to his Muggle guests. Aunt Petunia, Dudley and Mrs. Weasley were already there, chatting away with the Advocate. Dudley, after having given the food a careful stare, wary of the possibilities, had allowed his hunger to overcome his fears. His plate was piled high and he was making what Harry hoped were happy sounds as he bore down on the delicious treats, crumbs tumbling down the folds of the dress robe. Now more in his element, he seemed more able to ignore his distaste for Harry and the Magical World in general.
Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were there, as were McGonagall and Hagrid, all Harry's chosen guests. Harry noted that Snape hadn't invited anyone as his guests. But who would he have invited, Harry mused. Maybe the Malfoys? Horace Slughorn?
Seeing Harry and Snape approach, the group stopped their conversation and handed them both a goblet of wine. Harry accepted his, but was secretly wishing he could have a go at the buffet table. The morning had been a long one and his breakfast had worn off at least two hours before.
"Harry, Severus, congratulations," McGonagall said, looking vaguely misty-eyed, with nods all around. They raised their glasses and drank. Harry sensed that this should be a joyous occasion, but one emotion that hadn't come across from Snape's blood was joy.
Aunt Petunia approached with trepidation, speaking with Harry first. "Well, Harry," she started. Harry couldn't remember a time that she'd spoken his name before without admonition, given how much she loathed him and the magic world. "Will you introduce me to your godfather?" He could not have been more surprised that this was her remark, but her very presence was shocking enough. And she brought Dudley. And they both allowed themselves to be dressed. There seemed to be nothing further she could do to surprise him today. She must be extremely motivated to be sure the responsibility for his future rested someplace else other than her.
He choked slightly on his sandwich, imagining this going as poorly as an introduction could. But then she had mentioned upstairs they had grown up near one another. He cringed again, knowing that no good could come of this, knowing that she thought all magical people, including her own sister, were freaks. Snape was something of a freak, even within the Magical world.
"I don't think…" he began, attempting to turn her back towards Mrs. Weasley and McGonagall, who were discussing the current career and family paths of the many Weasley children, all Gryffindors while at Hogwarts. Petunia was having none of it. With no inkling of the sensitivity of the current situation, she raised a hand and called out, "Severus? Severus Snape? I remember you, you were a good friend of Lily's, weren't you? It's me, Petunia Evans, well, now I'm Mrs. Dursley, but you have known me as…." Aunt Petunia strode over to where Snape stood without noticing that he was off to the side away from the others and clearly not interested in socialization with the group, but merely fulfilling his obligation by being technically present.
Snape's glare would normally have frozen any sensible person, magical or not, in their shoes, but Petunia had apparently either started early on the wine for the celebration, or was simply not accustomed to the effects of goblin wine. Or both. She charged ahead fearlessly. Harry could feel his stomach sink, as he followed closely behind her.
"She spoke of you so much, you know. She was so sorry you had your falling out. She was always so worried about you. I'm sure she'd be pleased to see you doing so well now…"
McGonagall appeared next to him, saying in a low, warning voice, "She's a Muggle, Severus…"
Snape put down his unsampled glass slowly, turned on his heel and strode purposefully from the room, finishing his exit with the crash of the large oaken doors out to the Entrance Hall. Harry was grateful that Snape had managed not to cast a silencing spell or a hex, which must have required tremendous restraint on his part. Even Harry was tempted to at least toss a weak Obliviation her way.
Harry said, "Excuse me," and turned to follow him, but both McGonagall and Mrs Weasley grabbed each of his arms and pulled him back.
"Not now, Harry," said McGonagall. "Give him time."
"Yes," agreed Mrs. Weasley, breathlessly. "Maybe a week or two."
Aunt Petunia looked quite put out. "Good grief, what was THAT all about? Come now, Dudley, we should be going." Harry couldn't have agreed more.
"Yes, probably so," he said, a little too eagerly. He made a desperate gesture to Mrs. Weasley, who got the message right away.
"Yes, indeed. Let's get you back to Little Whinging before Mr. Dursley starts to miss you. How long are college visits supposed to take?" she asked, taking Aunt Petunia by the arm and steering her a little too forcefully towards the doors that Snape had just crashed out of. Dudley took several sandwiches and discovered the value of the many pockets that lined wizard robes.
Harry received an awkward, somewhat woozy hug from Aunt Petunia and give Dudley at least a slight wave that was returned before they shuffled off. Harry felt emotionally drained. One part of him wanted to find Snape and apologize for Petunia and her outburst, but the other was in hysterics imagining Uncle Vernon fooled by a cover story of a college visit for Dudley.