Later that afternoon after tending to his arm, Snape chased Harry out of his quarters suggesting he spend time with his friends before they left on Friday. Harry wasn't sure he felt like seeing his friends, but at least Snape let him use his floo to floo up to an empty seventh floor classroom, so he wouldn't have to walk as far.

Harry slid into the Gryffindor common room hoping his arrival wouldn't cause a scene. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself. He spotted Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville sitting in a secluded corner, engrossed in a conversation.

"Hi," Harry said simply once he reached them. It felt strange being in the same room as his two best friends and keeping a world of secrets from them.

"You're finally back, mate," Ron said from the floor leaning against the chair Hermione sat in. "That must've been some headache if you've been in the Hospital Wing the entire time."

"Uh, yeah," Harry lied doing a pathetic job at it.

"It wasn't a headache," Hermione accused lowering her voice. "Was it about you know what?"

He nodded without thinking. It was hard enough to continue standing with the soreness in his back and his jumbled thoughts. His brain felt worse than after an Occlumency lesson with Snape. It was like everything was scattered, disconnected from everything else.

"Sit down and tell us what you found out," Hermione said scooting over so Harry could squeeze in beside her. Harry did noting that when they sat like this last month they really had to squeeze together. Now, there was an inch or two between them.

"What is Hermione talking about?" Ginny asked.

Harry ran his hand through his hair. Not wishing to talk about it, he shrugged. Unconsciously, he started to itch his arm. Despite Snape applying a salve to it, it still itched.

"What's wrong with your arm?" Ron asked, looking up at him concerned.

"Nothing!" Harry snapped. He snatched his right hand from his arm, sitting on it so he wouldn't be tempted to itch it again.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione asked in a gentle tone laying a hand on his shoulder.

Too many questions, all of which he didn't want to answer. He couldn't if he wished to keep it together and not cry like a wimpy Hufflepuff. As his friends seemed to close in on him, demanding answers, he began to sweat and felt trapped. Harry knew this would happen. He'd rather be on trial in front of the Wizengamot right now.

Harry dropped his head into his hands to avoid the concerned gazes of his friends.

"I'm fine!" Harry yelled. "I just found out I'm going to be staying with Snape to train, so could you just leave me alone without following me everywhere right now? I need space." 

"Harry," Hermione tried to soothe him. "I know it sounds horrible, but Professor Snape knows a lot of important spells."

"You don't know anything!" he exclaimed, throwing her arm off him as he shot up out of the chair. Harry had to get out of there. "Please," he begged desperately, his voice cracking with emotion he refused to feel "I need to be by myself."

And with that declaration, Harry sprinted from the Gryffindor common room through the corridors and down several staircases until he reached the dungeons out of breath, his body protesting in pain. He searched the wall until he found the indentations signaling he was at Snape's quarters. At last, Snape's door appeared and Harry flung himself inside, making a beeline to the safety of his room.

"Harry?" Snape questioned from his doorway as Harry burrowed under his covers, hiding from the outside world. He froze. Maybe if he stayed perfectly still, Snape wouldn't see him. "I know you're there."

"You have the wrong Harry," he claimed hoping Snape got the message and left him alone.

But his wish was too good to be true. Snape slowly pulled back the covers, prying his fingers off the blanket one at a time. Harry struggled refusing to relinquish his hold on his blanket, but Snape was much stronger than he was even if he were at full-strength.

"Did your visit with your friends not go well? I didn't expect you back for a few hours," Snape said sitting on the edge of Harry's bed.

Harry shook his head hoping Snape didn't ask for details because he didn't want to talk to the man about it. He could trust the Potions Master with his life, but he couldn't trust him with things like this and it wasn't like Snape cared for his teenage melodrama.

"Do you wish to discuss what happened?" Snape asked, his eyes giving Harry a look as if to say he was trying.

"No. Can I hide out here?" If Snape made him leave, he didn't know what he'd do. He couldn't go back to Gryffindor Tower, not now.

"While I don't advise you hiding out to run away from whatever upset you, I won't kick you out. However, I won't have you hiding in your room all day doing nothing. You can either start on your summer homework or help me grade," Snape offered.

"I guess I'll help you," Harry said not believing he was volunteering to help Snape or that his professor thought him capable of marking for him. He just knew attempting to start on his summer homework would be a disaster since he couldn't think straight.

"Then come. I have some multiple-choice sections on the lower years' exams that with the key you are more than competent to grade," Snape got up, motioning for Harry to follow him back to the sitting room.

Was that meant to be insulting? Anyone could mark multiple-choice with the key. Harry sighed. Perhaps the man hadn't completely changed. Either way if doing such a mindless task would keep his mind occupied, Harry didn't care how insulting the work was.

He sat on Snape's left where the professor set him up to start on the first years' exams with one of Snape's famed red inkwells. Dipping a quill into the infamous red liquid that wrote so many scathing remarks gave Harry a sense of power. Maybe the mindless marking wouldn't be so bad, and he could sneak a snarky comment or two in without Snape noticing.

-----

The group of Gryffindors sat puzzled after Harry's mad dash to escape. "What were you referring to?" Ginny, the first one to break the silence, asked Hermione.

"Nothing," Hermione said. If Harry didn't want them to know, then she wasn't going to tell Ginny. "Ron, will you come to the library with me? I want to check out some books to read over the summer."

"Do I have to? You know I hate that place?" Ron whined, not picking up Hermione's hint.

"Yes, Ron. I'll need your help carrying them back," Hermione said standing up.

"Fine," Ron grumbled following after the bushy-haired girl.

They walked out of the portrait hole and headed towards the Hospital Wing, not the library. "Um, Hermione? Did you forget how to get to the library?" Ron asked, stopping in his tracks.

"We're not going to the library," Hermione stated as she continued down the corridor.

"But where-"

"If Harry won't tell us what's wrong, we must go to the source," Hermione explained with a roll of her eyes. "We're going to the Hospital Wing and with any luck Madame Pomfrey will let something slip."

"Oh. Why didn't you say that in the first place?" Ron ran to catch the other Gryffindor.

"Do I have to tell you everything?" When Ron nodded his head, Hermione threw up her hands in frustration. "So Ginny and Neville didn't follow us. Sometimes I wonder what you and Harry would do without me."

"You know we love you, right Hermione? We just don't think like you do. We're simpler," Ron tried as an excuse.

"Just come on and let me do the talking with Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said exasperated.

"I'll keep my mouth shut," Ron promised, "but I don't think we're going to get anything from her. She's too tight-lipped when it comes to her patients."

"We'll see about that," Hermione said giving her best friend a mischievous grin.

They continued their trek down to the Hospital Wing, finding it empty of students. Madame Pomfrey, however, was in a deep discussion with another witch that neither of them had seen before.

"Madame Pomfrey?" Hermione asked, trying to get the Mediwitch's attention.

"Oh, hello Miss Granger," Madame Pomfrey said turning away from the other witch to greet the Gryffindors. "Mr. Weasley. I'm afraid you've missed Mr. Potter."

"About that Madame Pomfrey. I'm worried about him," Hermione confessed using that small trace of Slytherin cunning she possessed. "He seemed so upset over his summer plans and his magic. I hope he'll be all right."

"You have every right to worry, dear. I was telling Miss Adamson, here, what great friends our Harry has and how you'll be there to help him through his treatments," Madame Pomfrey hugged Hermione. "If either of you need someone to talk to about what Harry's going through, know that I'll be here for you."

"Treatments?" Hermione questioned knowing she latched onto the right word.

"He didn't tell you? Perhaps Professor Snape hasn't told Mr. Potter yet that his leukemia can't be treated with magical treatments," Madame Pomfrey confessed, worry written across her face.

"What?" Hermione yelled, paling.

"I'm sure you know all about Muggle cancer treatments being Muggleborn. You'll be a great asset to Harry," Pomfrey continued.

"Harry has cancer?" Hermione cried out, tears forming in her eyes.

"You didn't know?" Pomfrey said alarmed as she realized her mistake.

"But that's impossible. Witches and wizards don't get cancer past the age of four when their cores become developed enough to protect them from Muggle diseases," Hermione stated turning to bury her head into Ron's shoulder.

Ron stood there awkwardly, confused as he tried to comfort his best friend. "What's cancer?" he asked.

Madame Pomfrey directed the two students over to a bed where she explained to Ron what cancer was and the treatments involved. Ron was horrified and in disbelief. Harry didn't seem sick except being a little tired, yet he sounded sicker than any magical disease could make him.

"He could die?" Ron asked trying to process all the new information.

"He won't," Pomfrey said, trying to reassure him.

"Yes, he could die!" Hermione hysterically screamed at the same time.

Ron looked back and forth between the crying witch flung around him and Pomfrey not knowing whom to believe.

"Cancer is so horrible, Ron," Hermione forced out in between sobs as she squeezed her best friend tighter. "You have no idea how horrible it is."

"If I may?" Miss Adamson cut in, "I'm a specialist from St. Mungo's here to work on your friend's case. We are doing everything we can to make sure he survives. The type of leukemia he has shows great promise for recovery in both the Muggle and Wizarding worlds.

"But there's a chance this cancer thing will kill him?" Ron asked for confirmation.

"Yes, it is possible, but as I said we are doing our best to ensure he doesn't," Miss Adamson placed a hand on Ron's shoulder. Ron blinked not knowing whether to cry, scream, or blast something to pieces. It was so unfair that everything happened to Harry.

"Ron, I want to see Harry," Hermione choked out trying to regain her composure.

"We don't know where he ran off to. He could be anywhere," Ron said, his own composure balancing on the end of a knife's blade. "Let's go back to Gryffindor. Harry could've snuck back inside." Ron gave Hermione his own hint. They could use the Map once they returned to find their friend, but first they headed to the Room of Requirement to comfort each other away from prying eyes.

-----

Severus watched Harry out of the corner of his eye. The teen sat hunched over, quill in hand, slashing checkmarks across wrong answers with a satisfied grin. Every once in a while he caught the teen writing a comment in addition to the checkmark.

The task had accomplished its objective, getting Harry distracted from his thoughts. Severus was surprised when upon entering Harry's room the boy hadn't broken down with the way he scrambled into his bedroom. Sending Harry to visit his friends should've been a break for the teen, as Severus knew he hadn't planned to tell his friends about his diagnosis yet. But he underestimated the Gryffindors' courage to ask questions that were best left unasked, or at least he thought that's what happened. Harry refused to tell him. Severus wanted to kick himself. He hadn't meant to make Harry deal with anything else today. At least the marking task was a success even if Severus would need to erase all those little comments that he'd no doubt find amusing. It was worth the extra time to keep Harry as mentally stable as possible going into this first week of treatments.

"I'm finished, sir," Harry said with a grin. Severus knew that grin. It was the one that signified a scathing marking session as a result of needing to vent your frustrations.

"Very well. Would you like to continue with the second years' or find something else productive to do?" Severus asked, giving Harry more options since the teen seemed more in control of his emotions.

"More marking, if you have it. It's oddly satisfying. Now I think I know why you always leave us nasty remarks," Harry responded.

"Indeed," Severus slid the stack of second year exams in front of Harry. "I have errands to run in Diagon Alley tomorrow. I received permission from Professor Dumbledore for you to accompany me if you wish."

Harry's eyes brightened. "You don't mind me tagging along?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I did. We'll have to take precautions of course, but there are a few things you should be along for." Severus hid the exact errands he needed to run. It would be best for the teen not to know that part of the errands were for Harry, to buy him some new clothes, and a few things for his room. He had a feeling the boy would object to anyone buying him anything, and if Severus could only get him into the store then he'd be able to persuade him without much of a fight. "Is that a yes?"

"Yes, sir," Harry said with a bright smile that made the corners of his own lips turn the slightest bit upwards. Severus cursed himself. He didn't feel pleased with making the boy happy. No, Severus didn't enjoy making anyone happy, least of all Potter...Harry.

"Keep marking," Severus said returning the conversation to something more comfortable. He continued with the seventh years' cornerstone projects while Harry dipped his quill back into the red inkwell, resuming his marking.

Time passed as the two wizards sat at the table marking in comfortable silence until a knock came. "Stay here," Severus told Harry as he got up to see who was at the door. A plaque mounted on the middle of the door read Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley.

As a precaution, each person wishing to grant access to his rooms was required to touch the door, which was charmed to read each person's magical signature, or they wouldn't be able to see the door to his quarters. It was one of the many protections Severus placed on his quarters to protect him from unwanted visitors on either side.

"Harry, your friends are here," Severus called over to the teen wondering how the other two-thirds of the golden trio found his quarters.

"I don't want to see them," Harry stated looking like he was ready to dart back to his room to hide.

Another loud insisting knock came on the door.

"Please, sir," Harry pleaded the quill threatening to snap in his hand.

"You can't hide forever," Severus warned. It wasn't healthy for the teen to run away from everything and avoidance would only make it worse.

"I know, just not today. Please." The boy looked desperate, scared of his own friends and that fear made Severus give into the boy's pleading.

"Very well, just this once. Go hide in your room while I get rid of your guests."

"Thank you, sir!" Harry smiled in disbelief at Severus' assistance while he ran off to his room.

Yet another knock sounded on his door. Severus growled. Didn't the miscreants have any sense of manner and decorum? He waited to hear Harry's door click close before flinging the entrance door open to reveal two upset Gryffindors.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, what is your excuse for appearing at my private quarters?" Severus asked giving the teens an angry scowl. He had no sympathy for students who violated his privacy, Harry's friends or not.

"Sir," Granger said, her eyes red from crying. "We know Harry is here. Can we please see him?"

"He's sleeping," Severus lied.

"Could we just look in on him?" she asked, her voice catching from holding back her tears. Severus hated overemotional teenage girls. He couldn't stand crying. It made him uncomfortable.

"I cannot allow that. He needs undisturbed rest for his magical core to heal."

"We'll go to the Headmaster!" Ron threatened.

Couldn't the Gryffindors get it through their thick heads that they weren't going to see Harry tonight, and that going to Albus didn't scare him? Severus shoved the two Gryffindors outside his doorway and up against the opposing wall. He stared down his two students seething in anger, feeling a strange protectiveness over Harry.

"I don't care who you go to. You are not seeing Mr. Potter tonight," Severus said, his icy voice a touch louder than whispering, a tone that frightened his students more than his yelling ever could. "He doesn't wish for company at this time."

"But sir," Hermione protested, "he's our friend. He needs us."

"Right now, what he needs is for you to allow him his space," Severus snapped, his tone final. How could he have ever thought spending time with the inquiring Gryffindors was a good idea for Harry after their discussion that afternoon that left Harry frazzled enough?

"Can we see him before we leave for the summer?" Ron asked.

"If that's what he wants. Now go before I take points," Severus watched the two teens scamper off before entering back into his quarters and telling Harry it was safe to come out.