Summary:
After the blood wards collapse and Harry is cast out by the Dursleys, he's left without a guardian—just as Fudge circles, eager to seize custody.
With little time and even less options, Dumbledore proposes his grand solution; Snape as Harry's new legal guardian. But a simple adoption on paper won't satisfy the determined Minister. To avoid Fudge's grasp, Harry and Snape must set aside their mutual hatred and act as though they're a devoted father and son.
When he goes undercover with his life on the line and the Ministry watching for any misstep, Harry finds himself wrestling with unexpected emotions and begins to wonder, how long can a lie be told before it begins to feel like the truth?
"...with this, the adoption is finalised. Congratulations." Dumbledore smiled, his eyes void of humour.
"There is nothing to congratulate," Snape hissed, snatching the documents off the desk, folding them neatly with practised motions, and shuffling them into his pocket.
"The matter is grim only if you allow it to be," Dumbledore continued, his tone placating. "I hope you find light in this seeming darkness."
"Spare me the nonsense."
"Severus..."
Harry had never heard Snape speak to the Headmaster in such a way. He would have enjoyed the spectacle if he weren't busy fighting his own internal crisis.
Adoption. The word made him recoil. Luckily, his stomach was already empty, a token bestowed by the Dursleys.
Just where had everything gone so wrong?
Was it the Dementors? Or Dudley nearly meeting his premature demise—this time for a reason other than his high blood sugar? The expulsion from Hogwarts had only escalated things. When Harry shouted, "This was never my home!" after Petunia kicked him out, it was just an outburst at the end of a horrible evening.
Snape picking him up the moment he'd set foot on the sidewalk was not part of the aftermath. It was the beginning of something much bigger, much more twisted, much more messed up.
The blood wards had fallen.
The protection was gone. Harry was without a guardian. And Fudge, as he soon found out, was waiting in the shadows for just such an opportunity.
Snape had gifted him with a torrent of insults, tangible seething, and then–once he ran out of breath–manhandling. It was worse than a Portkey. Harry never wanted to experience the feeling of Apparition again.
Hogwarts. Grass under his feet, his battered luggage sinking into the wet mud, a gust of warm wind in his nose. Home. Except the empty hallways didn't feel like home, closing in on him, choking him, drawing warmth away, as if saying, "You're too early. You don't belong here."
Snape's painful grip on his arm didn't let him believe it was all a dream. No, in his nightmares, he saw Cedric.
Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore's smile. Dumbledore's lemon drop. All familiar, all out of place. Dumbledore talking. Snape's fury. More talking. Adoption. Adoption.
Harry finally snapped back.
"You cannot be serious," he said, the air tense with the weight of impending proposition.
"I wish we weren't," Dumbledore sighed, ever the witty one. "It is anything but a farce. Time is of the essence, and we are doing this for you, Harry. I hope you understand."
He did not understand. At all. Fudge painted him a madman; that much was clear. But when had adoption come into the mix?
"The minister denies all claims of Voldemort's return. Blinded by fear and the premise of winning the upcoming elections, Cornelius has been maintaining the peace in wizarding society by putting them in far more danger. Several attacks have taken place, orchestrated by Death Eaters, but they were attributed to Sirius's alleged crimes."
"That's not true—!"
"Truth is a fragile thing, Harry. Something is true because people believe it. And people's beliefs are, with the right tools, easily manipulated. The minister has been adamant about feeding his truth to the world."
"And what's that?" Harry asked, waiting for the pieces to fall into place.
"You're a traumatised, abused brat, compensating for lack of attention by spreading lies," Snape supplied from the corner, reminding Harry of his presence. "I wholeheartedly agree with the last bit."
"I agree with none of it!"
"Cornelius concluded that having you take his side would end the simmering unease in society," Dumbledore went on, not letting either of them disturb his train of thought. "People are scared, and not everyone accepts his words over those of the Boy Who Lived. For the past two months, he's been doing everything in his power to make your aunt lose guardianship so that he can take her place."
"His grand scheme is to adopt me?" Harry's voice cracked. Nothing was adding up.
"Adopt? He wants to have legal power over you, control your moves, dictate your statements!" Snape hissed. "His custody would isolate you—from Hogwarts and anyone of influence. This is not a family melodrama, Potter!"
Right, because he had no family.
"How is this even legal?" He ignored Snape, who seemed to revel in his misery. "Even if the blood wards fell, Petunia never disowned me, she never signed any paperwork!"
It couldn't be so simple. He had been kicked out of Privet Drive, but faced with the law, it mattered little. The Dursleys were still his guardians.
"Before their deaths, your parents named me to handle all legal matters should anything happen to them. This included the question of your future custody. I was made your guardian after that fateful night, and then I passed the rights to your aunt. It was a contract of both Muggle and magical nature," Dumbledore explained, his tone dropping to a grave hum.
"Fudge has tried to invalidate the Muggle legislation for months. He's gathered evidence, neighbours' statements, interviews with your primary school teachers—anything to open a case for Social Services and paint you as an abused child whose judgement cannot be trusted. And the best way he sees to keep that story convincing? Control."
Ants began to crawl alongside Harry's ribcage. Dumbledore was heading in a dangerous direction.
"I dearly wish we had more time to discuss this properly. However, I must apologize to you. I hadn't the slightest idea about the treatment you suffered under the Dursleys' roof, and I'm aware I can never make up for it, but I must prevent a similar situation from happening ever again."
The Headmaster's face was sorrowful. Harry looked away, unwilling to unpack or address his words.
"Professor Snape already mentioned it: Cornelius isn't offering you a loving home," Dumbledore continued, his words measured. "His goal is political—to silence you. With him as your legal guardian, you'd be... restrained. Unable to speak to anyone he didn't approve of. Hidden, if he so chose. He could remove you from the world altogether."
An image sprang to Harry's mind, sharp and sickening. Himself, locked away from everyone he knew, as if his very existence was something to keep under wraps. It wasn't a family Fudge was after—it was ownership.
"Since the wizarding contract was invalidated, guardianship has been transferred to me once more. It's temporary and easy enough to contest legally. I expect the Minister to be moving against it already..."
A monologue followed, one filled with wizarding bureaucracy. Harry tuned it out while his future and autonomy hung in the air like wet laundry.
Somehow, Snape was the solution.
"...Professor Snape volunteered to step up and become your guardian until the situation is resolved."
Harry tuned back in just in time to hear this last sentence haunt him. Judging by Snape's murderous expression, Dumbledore's mention of "volunteering" had to be the biggest lie of the evening. Harry's mind stalled as he absorbed the words.
"This will require more than a simple change of custody, I'm afraid," the Headmaster went on, sounding as troubled as Harry felt. "If the Ministry is to believe that your new situation is stable, Professor Snape cannot appear to be a 'reluctant guardian' — Cornelius will scrutinise every hint of tension. I cannot stress enough that he is prepared to challenge the adoption if he perceives it as unfriendly, which means..."
"Which means?" Harry echoed, feeling a chill settle in his gut.
"Which means, for the time being, Professor Snape must act in a role that resembles that of a father to you. It must be understood that you live in an... affectionate home, for lack of a better word."
He felt his jaw clench, his breath catching in his throat. A father? How could Dumbledore even suggest that? The idea of Snape, with all his scowling disdain and biting remarks, pretending to care for him felt like a mockery of everything he had endured. Harry clenched his fists, anger simmering just beneath the surface.
"You simply cannot be bloody serious," he said, his voice rising. "This is absurd!"
Having Fudge breathing down his neck was one thing; being forced into this preposterous arrangement was another—but Snape...?!
"Does this look like a joke to you, Potter?" As if waiting to catch Harry's attention, the professor began advancing towards him, stepping out of the dark corner he'd been occupying. "Do you think," he enunciated nasally, each word sharpened with purpose, "that I'd be here now, having spent my evening saving an impudent, ungrateful teenager from the trouble he's caused, ultimately accepting the legal role of his guardian—for my own amusement?"
"Who says you have to accept it? I'm not accepting it either!" Harry shot back. "As you said yourself, this isn't a melodrama; I have a right to choose who adopts me!"
"You have no right at all! Soon enough, Fudge will march here with valid adoption papers, signed by all people relevant—notice that does not include you—and he will have every right to drag you away against your will!" Snape raged. "If you're not interested in seeing your dear Gryffindor flock again, by all means, keep this up!" he spat, each sentence phrased like an insult.
"As if you wouldn't do the same!" Harry protested. "I'll never accept this—Sirius is my godfather!"
"The mutt is a wanted criminal!"
"And Remus is next in line after him..."
"...ah, yes, a dangerous werewolf, the ideal alternative..."
"...even Hagrid would do! Anyone but you!" Harry hissed, his blazing eyes fixed on the bottomless depths of Snape's black gaze.
"You arrogant imbecile! Can you not see the gravity of the situation? You're the one to blame! Do you think I want to tie you to myself, even under the cover of pretence?! Too much is at stake, and instead of showing gratitude for the sacrifices people are making, you're whining like a five-year-old!" The Potion Master's patience had snapped.
"Gentlemen, we don't have the liberty for conflicts. I ask you to put your differences aside until we resolve this," Dumbledore urged them.
"Why can't you be my guardian?!" Harry turned his frustration onto the older man, knowing there was no civil talk with Snape.
Dumbledore's eyes saddened. He still didn't look at him.
"I cannot provide for you, Harry. As I said, Cornelius built a case against the Dursleys—a case of neglect, abuse, and insufficient care. Once he finds out someone adopted you before him, I can only imagine what he might do. The real battle for your safety begins now. I'm far too old and preoccupied to stand against his claims."
"And Snape isn't?"
"You will address me with respet—!"
"Professor Snape is committed to the cause."
Harry's head began to throb painfully. He must have never escaped the Dementors; one of them had kissed him, and now he was seven feet deep in Hell. It was the only plausible explanation.
"This makes no sense," he muttered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.
"What's so incomprehensible for that little brain of yours?" Snape jabbed. "You'll be provided with stability, protection, and all that entails. Moreover, your freedom won't be compromised!"
"That's rich coming from you!"
"Potter—"
"Severus—"
"Are you hearing yourselves?" Harry yelled at both of them. Blinded by frustration, he lost reason to hold back. "Fudge wants me as a political pawn, and the solution is for me and Snape to play family? Like I'm going to call him 'Dad' and he'll tuck me in every night, crisis solved? "
He was supposed to be at the Dursleys by now, washing up after their dinner, going through his routine of being sent to his room early. Not this.
"Precisely," Dumbledore murmured into the charged silence.
"Excuse me...?" Harry croaked, his throat raw.
"As long as you and Professor Snape present a façade of a harmonious relationship, Fudge will have no legal grounds to petition to take you back himself."
Somebody must have kidnapped Dumbledore and is now impersonating him, Harry realized.
"We hate each other. Everyone knows it. Even if we try to make them believe this act, no one will buy it!" he explained to the imposter; there was no way the real Dumbledore wouldn't understand their mutual animosity.
"People believe what they see. They didn't see you in late detentions with Professor Snape, growing closer, him helping you with homework, you opening up, seeking him out in times of need, spending holidays together..." said the Headmaster in a tone one foretold weather.
"That's bulls—"
"Potter!" Snape roared near Harry's ear, startling him. "Either you accept the situation and comply, or have Fudge remove you within the hour. I'd personally prefer the latter, as it spares my sanity, but those close to you might disagree. If you don't want your life uprooted and endangered, start behaving likeit."
"So, you're alright with this?" Harry challenged. "Playing pretend, having us portray father and son?"
"The situation demands it," Snape replied through gritted teeth, his face a perfect mirror of disgust. It dawned on Harry that the man was just as unhappy with the arrangement as he was. That thought brought little comfort—but comfort nonetheless. He was starting to consider if he was of sound mind.
For the first time, Harry allowed himself to think about the situation. The two men granted him a few moments of silence.
"It won't work," he said at last.
"If your conclusion is based on your utter lack of deception skills, I'm inclined to agree."
He glared at Snape, seizing the moment to twist his words into a provocation.
"I won't have the slightest problem with acting my part. It's you who could never be a fitting parental figure, even for show!"
"Speak to me without respect. One. More. Time—"
"I'm relieved both of you are already warming to the proposition," Dumbledore interrupted, successfully dousing the inferno in his office. "It's for the best if you try to speak comfortably, like father and son would. Harry, would you mind?"
"What? You want me to act now?" he echoed, utterly bewildered.
"No time like present," came the confirmation.
Harry was more than capable of adapting. The direr the situation, the faster he acclimatized. Years with the Dursleys and having to survive Voldemort's shenanigans had taught him a lot. However, two men waiting expectantly for a spotlight performance wasn't yet a disaster to prevent. It didn't call for improvisation and wit. His attempt would look absurd.
"Err... I can't—I mean, it's not important yet—" he stammered, feeling embarrassed. So much for my acting skills, he cursed inwardly.
"Excellent. Let us hope Fudge believes this charade before we have the fortune of hearing you speak, Potter," Snape barked, his last spring of nerves stretched to the limit.
"Let's see you do it, then, hm? Father of mine!" Harry rose to the dispute.
"I'm not your father and I never will be; besides, the adoption hasn't gone through yet. As for my role, don't let it concern your minuscule intelligence. If the worst comes, you will feign muteness, and I'll do the rest."
"I wasn't ready—"
"Apologies. Next time, I'll be sure to send a five-day notice—"
"What? No—!"
"Severus, that will be enough," the Headmaster intervened, putting an end to their mindless bickering. Harry turned to him, searching for support. He found none.
A stack of papers appeared on the desk before them. Snape stepped closer, partially obscuring Harry's view. "We must proceed immediately; the rest can be sorted later. Sign here first..."
Harry stood dumbfounded, ignored, as the two men began tending to the paperwork. Only then did the true weight of the matter begin to settle on his shoulders.
He was being adopted. By Snape.
And it was the better option.
"I'm sorry to intrude, but they're here, Headmaster," Hagrid announced abruptly, skipping any pleasantries. The interruption pulled Harry from his dissociative haze, letting his ears be of use again. He stopped listening once Dumbledore congratulated them.
"Come here, Potter!" The command was a quiet whip, slashing his cheek. He moved just in time to witness Snape's tense face wiped clean. He wondered what kind of expression he himself wore. Confusion? Shock? Remains of anger?
Harry went from standing rigidly to sitting in a comfortable chair next to Snape, a steaming mug of tea in his hands. A warning of a freezing whisper echoed in his skull.
"Compose yourself. This time, act like your life depends on it."
Then, the study flooded with ministry officials in lead with Harry's new arch-nemesis, Fudge.
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