Snape's nostrils flared. "You're not a Hufflepuff, Harry; there's no need to be so demonstratively loyal to me. I won't mind in the least if you apply a little cunning to the matter of whom to tell, and when. You've said yourself how important your friends are to you. What sense is there in upsetting them over this?"
"If they have an ounce of sense, they'll be glad I finally have a... uh, someone to take care of me. Not that I can't take care of myself," Harry rambled. "Because I can, you know. Well, mostly. I mean, I'm not going to be that much work..." Realizing how mixed-up he sounded, Harry decided the smartest thing he could do would be to shut up.
"Ronald Weasley may well not possess a single ounce of sense," Snape bitingly informed him.
"It's not fair to judge him just on his work in Potions," Harry insisted. "Not that he's even all that bad at them."
"Potions aside, Weasley most definitely lacks some portion of his brain. Didn't he spend an entire year casting spells with a broken wand, to disastrous effect at times?"
"Geez, he was only a second year," Harry grumbled, deciding he'd just as soon not mention that Ron's family maybe couldn't have afforded another wand that year. Ron sure wouldn't want Draco overhearing that. "I bet all you Slytherins just howled with laughter over the slugs incident," he complained.
"I do believe we did."
Harry was saved from answering by Draco's reappearance. And what a reappearance it was! Harry could hardly believe his eyes. The Slytherin boy had been wearing black jeans and a gray shirt before. Now, he was attired in velvet green dress robes trimmed with a narrow edge of glinting silvery fur. In his hand he carried a small bouquet of... well, Harry wasn't actually sure. Flowers, definitely, but also berries, and spices... even pine needles. The whole thing was neatly tucked into a potions vial filled with a brown flaky substance.
He strode calmly across the room to stand before Snape, who had gone still and silent at the sight the boy presented. Then in one smooth motion, Snape had moved to stand.
From that moment, Harry was aware that something important was going on, something he didn't understand. Both Snape and Draco seemed completely caught up in solemnity. Or ceremony, perhaps.
Or formality, even, because Harry had never seen Draco act this way before.
After giving a slight nod, Draco stepped closer to the Potions Master and clasped both his outstretched hands, the odd little bouquet held between them. "Severus," he said, his voice warm, his words holding the sound of a vow, "upon this hallowed day your joy is made complete. May the years to come be many, and overflow with all I wish for you and yours."
Snape had been gazing into Draco's eyes, his own a little stunned, but at that, he glanced down at the bouquet. Studying it for a long moment, he finally murmured, "Well chosen, Draco."
Draco nodded again, the gesture solemn, then lifting each of Snape's hands in turn, lightly kissed them. Finally, he reached up on tip-toe to lay a kiss against the man's cheek.
With that, he neatly turned on a heel and walked toward Harry. Unsure of what was going on, or what he was supposed to do, the Gryffindor boy rose uncertainly to his feet. Dear God, Draco wasn't going to kiss his hands and cheek too, was he?
But Draco merely handed him the bouquet, and with a slight bow, turned away and went back into the bedroom.
Nervous about the whole thing, Harry gave a shaky laugh and lifted the bouquet to his nose to smell it. It was like an evergreen forest wrapped in kitchen scents.
Snape, he saw, still looked rather startled by Draco's behavior.
"Uh, what was that?" Harry had to ask.
The question seemed to drag Snape from his reverie. "A well-wishing ceremony," he explained, coming to stand by Harry so that he could take another good look at the bouquet. "Pureblood tradition."
"Are adoptions so common?"
"No." Twin spots of color stole into Snape's cheeks as he admitted, "It's used for births, to welcome a new child into the family. Normally the flowers and herbs would be placed around the newborn's cradle. Draco's adapted the tradition by giving them into your hand."
Harry hated to be dense, but on the other hand, he hadn't been raised around wizarding traditions. "What's he trying to say?"
"That he accepts you as my son, I imagine," Snape murmured.
Harry lowered his voice. "Why did you say 'well chosen'?"
"Every well-wisher assembles an offering of plants, each of which is imbued by its nature with specific magical properties. In choosing huckleberry, pine, gardenia, looestrife, thyme, woodruff, tea, and leek, Draco is expressing particular wishes with regard to your future."
"So what do they all mean?" Harry pressed.
"Ah, but I can't tell you that. Each well-wish is spelled to last so that when the child grows old enough, he can find out for himself what friends and family long ago wished for him."
"I bet I can get Draco to spill the beans."
"I seriously doubt that. He'll expect you to uncover the meanings just as he had to do when he was twelve and was given all the well-wishes laid around his own cradle."
"Oh, come on," Harry urged, grinning a bit as he plucked out a purple blossom from the tiny bouquet. "You said loosestrife. That would be purple loosestrife, right, like in the Truthful Dreams Potion? You've got to tell what that does. I mean, you dosed me with it!"
"And you were so very interested in its properties that you asked me about it at once," Snape sarcastically remarked. "I recall it well. You insisted on full disclosure of all of loosestrife's characteristics before you would so much as taste the Potion. It was quite the argument there for a while--"
"All right, I didn't care a bit until right now, I admit it!" Harry laughed. "But seeing as it was both in the Potion and showed up here, I'd think you'd satisfy my curiosity. Or should I just keep guessing? So, it promotes truth. Draco wants me to tell the truth? He's saying I'm a liar? What kind of wish is that?"
"Oh, just tell him the about loosestrife before I have to listen to any more idiocy," Draco called from the bedroom, proving that he was eavesdropping as usual. Then again, the door was open, Harry realized. Draco couldn't really help but hear.
"Loosestrife provides both peace and protection," Snape supplied in a smooth voice. "It's the emotional dampening agent in Truthful Dreams."
"Speaking of which, could I have... er, more?"
"You fear you may have nightmares tonight?" Snape inquired, one eyebrow raised.
"No," Harry admitted. "I mean, not particularly. But I do tend to have them a lot. I'd sort of like to get dreamed out. I mean, if I could run my normal course of awful dreams with the potion to help me er... cope, then maybe I wouldn't need to worry about nightmares as much." Harry sighed. "Does that make any sense at all?"
"It does," Snape acknowledged. "Wait here. I'll get you a few single-dose vials."
While his teacher... oh, adoptive father, Harry realized... was gone, he started to feel a little guilty about what he'd just said, because true as it was, it wasn't the whole truth by any means.
"Um, Professor?" he ventured when Snape held out the requested vials. "That last thing I told you? I was being sort of Slytherin. I.... er, the real reason I wanted the potion was because last time I had a dream about my... um, parents, and I was hoping to see them again."
Snape placed the vials in Harry's hand and curled the boy's own fingers over them. "I have no problem with that, save the one I believe the headmaster cautioned you about regarding the Mirror of Erised."
"It does no good to dwell in dreams and forget to live," Harry acknowledged. "I understand. Thank you, sir."
Snape merely inclined his head.
When Harry went in to bed, Draco was in his pajamas and under the covers, but still awake. "Why can't you call him Severus?" he inquired as he leaned on one elbow to prop himself up.