***

As the First Years were led into the Great Hall, all the staff turned to the far end of the head table where Harry Potter and Severus Snape sat. It wasn't everyday that one of their colleagues had a child enter Hogwarts - in fact, it hadn't happened for many years - and now, two of their children were about to be sorted into their new Houses.

"They aren't our sons," hissed Severus under his breath.

Harry squeezed his partner's knee under the table. "They might as well be, Sev. You know that."

"I know nothing of the kind."

"You were just as willing as I was to take them into our home when Hermione accidentally told us...."

"Accidentally?" Severus whispered. "That friend of yours is as close-mouthed as the Tombs of the Pharaohs when she wants to keep a secret. It's painfully clear that she 'let slip' the information that the Department of Mystery's experiment with that Gate had gone awry because she knew you were a sentimental idiot who...."

"Hey!"

"...who would see himself in a messy haired, flying obsessed, rule breaking miscreant."

"And what about you?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Harry snorted. "You agreed to take them in and care for them even before I did."

"That's because I had been led to believe by that bushy-haired prevaricator that our two refugees from another reality would be able to provide some long sought Muggle information that would aid me in my experiments. She neglected to tell me that the two not only looked eleven, but that they were, for all intents and purposes, dunderheaded children."

"And you felt no fondness for them? Not even for...."

Severus sniffed. "My appreciation for the intelligence required for a child to develop a scientific means of testing Pumpkin Juice to see if it contains citrus using using nothing but magical materials does not translate into fondness"

"And what about tucking him into bed the other night when you thought I wasn't watching?"

"Shut up," Severus muttered.

Harry laughed. "Face it, Sev...until Hermione's team finds a way to return them to their proper ages and universe, they're ours."

"I don't care to discuss it any longer."

"Which I'm guessing means that the Sorting Hat has got around to the first of our two boys?"

The Hat had reached the mid-way point in the annual sorting ceremony. The boy who currently sat on the stool looked a bit scared, but determined, and for a moment, Harry thought the Hat might place him in Gryffindor, but seconds after the name "Rodney McKay!" was read, the Hat called out "Ravenclaw!"

Harry turned toward Severus. 'That's quite a smug smile you're wearing."

"I don't know what you mean," Severus replied. "I only know you owe me twenty Galleons."

"There's still one to go, you know."

"Hmph. No question about his sorting. Bright, of course, but he's a Gryffindor through and through. And don't think I didn't see you whispering in his ear out in the corridor earlier. Warning him about the 'evil house,' no doubt?"

Harry laughed. "You think you know me so well, don't you?"

"You aren't exactly a complex subject, Potter."

Severus sat back and watched with little apparent interest as twelve more young witches and wizards were placed into their new houses, but when the next boy - "John Sheppard!" - took his place on the stool, Severus leaned forward. He watched as John - yes, yes...one of his boys - closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath as the Hat moved this way and that. Finally, many minutes later, the Hat called out "Slytherin!"

To say Severus was shocked would be an understatement, but when he turned toward his partner, Harry just smiled and took Severus' hand in his own.

"Not Gryffindor."

"No," Severus said slowly, his brow creased with confusion. "But I thought..."

He looked at Rodney, chatting with one of the Ravenclaw prefects, a brilliant Fifth Year who looked just like her mother Luna, then turned toward the Slytherin table, where it appeared that John was being courted by three members of the house Quidditch team. Trust the students of his house to already have learned who the best Quidditch prospects were.

"So, Sev," said Harry quietly. "Are you happy?"

"You know I'm never happy, Potter," he said dismissively. "However...it would, perhaps, be fair to say that I'm not precisely unhappy."

Harry smiled, and squeezed Severus' hand. "I'm glad."

"And for my part," Severus said softly, noticing for the first time how very right his hand looked entwined with Harry's, "I am very grateful."