Harry grumbled the moment he woke up and heard the constant beeping entering his ears. Hadn't he made it clear he didn't want any more chemo? Then again, Snape never listened to anything he said. Harry pushed away the faint feelings of safety his rational side tried to reason with him. That was just an act to butter Harry up before dropping the bomb that Snape was his... Harry shuddered. He refused to believe it. James Potter was his father, had loved him so much that he sacrificed his life to protect him, and all Snape had ever done was give him up so that even after his parents died, Harry was still sent to the Dursleys.

"Good morning," Madam Pomfrey greeted him as she crossed the room with a bowl in her hand.

"Where's Snape?" Harry sat up and slid his glasses on. He looked around the room, particularly in the shadows and dark corners for any sign of the Potions Master.

"Professor Snape was called to the Headmaster's office. He left explicit instructions for me to make sure you took your medications and ate," the Mediwitch slid the rolling tray over Harry's bed with a bowl of oatmeal, a smoothie, a glass of water, and his medications set out on it for him.

"I'm not hungry," Harry protested, glad Snape was called away. At the moment, he'd rather deal with Pomfrey's smothering.

"Eat," Pomfrey nudged the oatmeal towards him, "or must I feed you myself?"

"No," Harry sighed as he picked up the spoon and began to eat small bites. He alternated between eating his oatmeal and taking sips of his smoothie, but neither tasted particularly good, and he resorted to reciting all the spells he could think of in his head to distract him from the food sliding down his throat.

"Don't forget your medications," she reminded him when he had made a dent into his breakfast.

Harry nodded, not trusting the rising nauseous feeling enough to speak. He took three pills out at a time and swallowed them until he was finished and pushed the tray away from him.

"Is that all you're going to eat?" the Mediwitch looked at the bowl and then at him. "That's hardly enough for a baby, much less a teenager."

Harry rolled his eyes before lying down on his side facing away from her. He wanted to see how much she'd eat if she was as nauseous as he was feeling.

It wasn't like he was refusing to eat for the sake of refusing. Besides everything he ate coming up soon afterwards, everything tasted bland and the texture felt gross sliding down his throat. Chilled water that wasn't too cold was all that sounded anything near appetizing. Fruit juices were okay, but the back of his throat felt a little sore, enough to make him wonder if he caught a cold. Harry hoped not, but Miss Adamson or Snape hadn't said anything yet, so he hoped it was from vomiting so often. That last thing he wanted was to feel even worse.

"Well, Severus can't say I didn't try," Madam Pomfrey whispered under her breath. He heard her banish his breakfast with a sigh. "I'll be in the sitting room working on a few things for the Hospital Wing if you need me. Otherwise, I'll be in to check on you periodically."

"Okay," Harry said.

Harry waited for her footsteps to trail off as she walked down the hall before he relaxed. He was finally alone. Without anyone else there, he could just be Harry, whoever Harry was. He'd never really been sure who he was besides the supposed savior of the wizarding world, but now he was more lost than ever. Was Harry even his name?

A tear escaped his eye and Harry reached for his wand. It felt strange in his hand, like a stranger rather than a trusted friend. He supposed it might have something to do with avoiding using his wand whenever possible since his magic became unreliable. Lately, he'd even begun leaving his wand on his nightstand regardless of where he was in Snape's quarters. There was no point in keeping it on him when the spells he cast wouldn't work anyway. So much for Moody's constant vigilance.

Please work. Harry held his wand up, his hand shaking as he practiced the precise wand movement needed to accomplish a silencing spell. He couldn't tell if his hand was shaking from general weakness or anxiety over casting the spell. Either way it needed to stop if the spell was going to work.

Harry took a deep breath, willing his hand to stop shaking. "Obex silencio," Harry whispered, pleading for his magic to cooperate. A faint gold spark that was so small someone had to be looking for it to notice was emitted from his wand, and Harry could've jumped for joy if he had the energy. It had worked.

With a smile on his face, Harry fell backwards into the numerous pillows lining the top of his bed. He could scream or cry and no one would be able to hear him unless they encroached upon the invisible barrier surrounding his bed. He hugged his wand to his chest, thanking it for cooperating.

Maybe if he tried to forget Snape's words hard enough, they wouldn't be true and they could return to the strange normalcy that had started to set in. Yes, that's what he'd do. Harry curled up on his side and tried to think of anything but Snape.

-----

Ron sat at the desk that had been transfigured from the bed Harry usually stayed in while at Grimmauld Place. He scratched out a few words with his quill before crumbling up the piece of parchment into a ball and throwing it across to room to join the growing pile.

Why was it so hard to write to Hermione? He'd done it numerous times over the summers, yet Ron found himself at a loss. How could he tell Hermione in a letter that Harry, their best friend, really had cancer and in code incase Pig got intercepted?

Ron was still stunned himself although it had been rather entertaining to see his mum scream at Dumbledore the moment she returned from Hogwarts. He had had a hunch after hearing about the supposed test mix-up that something wasn't quite right. Yet, Ron had given into the hope that Harry was okay. His best friend had to be. He was Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, not died.

"Ron," his mother placed a hand on his shoulder, "lunch is ready."

"I'm writing Hermione," Ron twisted around to face her. Her eyes were red and her hair stuck out at weird angles. He wondered if his mum had slept at all the night before.

"It can wait," she squeezed his shoulder.

Ron shrugged her off and turned back around to pick up his quill. "Hermione needs to know."

"I know, but another hour won't change anything," she pulled the quill from his hand. "We're waiting for you to eat."

"Mum, how is he?" Ron whispered as he stared down at the blank piece of parchment.

"He's quite ill. The side effects of his treatments are hitting him hard."

Ron gulped. Harry never let himself look sick, even after the visions from You-Know-Who, so if Harry looked sick, it must be bad.

"Harry's hooked up to Muggle medical machines by tubes that have been inserted into his chest. It's unnerving to see at first," his mother wrapped her arms around him. "Don't you ever come down with anything that requires serious Muggle medical techniques, you hear me?" she squeezed him tighter.

"Yes, Mum," Ron leaned into his mother's hold, thankful for her comfort, yet wondering whom Harry had. He couldn't even imagine going through something so scary without his mum and dad or worse with Snape. He shuddered. The git probably had Harry scrubbing cauldrons or preparing gross potions ingredients despite his cancer.

"What is it?" his mum pulled away to look at him.

"Is Harry really staying with Snape?"

"Yes, but you'd be surprised how gentle Professor Snape is with him," she pushed his hair away from his eyes. "I think a haircut is in store for you after lunch."

Snape, gentle? Yeah right. Ron wouldn't believe that one in a million years. Snape hated Harry and wouldn't pass up the opportunity to taunt him.

"I know what you're thinking, but really. Something in Professor Snape has changed," she nudged him. "Now get up and come down for lunch before there isn't any left."

Ron's stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast. He sighed but followed his mum downstairs, still wondering how he was going to tell Hermione.

-----

Severus sat in a chair in front of the Headmaster's desk while they waited for Minerva to arrive, his hand resting at his side holding his wand. He refused to say anything until he had sufficient back up. There was no telling what Albus might try to pull though Severus had noticed upon arrival the Headmaster's troubled expression that was perhaps laced with the slightest bit of remorse. Still, Severus wouldn't let his guard down. Harry needed him as he was, whether Harry wished for it or not.

"Tea, my boy?" Albus asked while he poured a cup for himself.

"No, and I am not your boy," Severus growled.

"A lemon drop then?" the Headmaster pushed the infuriating tin across his desk.

The Potions Master snatched the tin off the desk and flung it against the wall. The tin's lid hit just right and dozens of yellow candies flew free, crashing onto the floor and rolling away. "I will not be placated."

"I did what I had to," Albus slumped back in his chair, looking all of his one hundred and some years. "I am sorry-"

"You don't get to apologize!" Severus jumped up and started pacing, his patience on the edge of snapping. "All the years I've taught here, you couldn't think to mention that I had a son?"

"Voldemort wasn't dead," Albus sighed.

"He was dead enough! I could've had ten Dark Lord free years with him!" He felt his magic building up, looking for an escape. "Instead you left him with those abusive relatives, and now Harry resents me!"

Dumbledore's trinkets started to shake.

"Harry needed the protection-"

"Protection? Is that your newest excuse?" Severus spun around to look the Headmaster in the eye. "If you are so convinced I cannot protect my own child, perhaps I shouldn't be trusted with other people's children!"

"Severus," Dumbledore held up a hand to try to soothe him.

"Go ahead! Fire me!" he threw up his hands and a bright light shot up, burning a small hole into the ceiling. "I'll take Harry and hide him away until the war is over! Don't tell me I cannot protect my son!"

"Your what?" Minerva entered the room, her face twisted in confusion. "Would one of you gentlemen care to inform me about what is going on."

"It's nothing," Dumbledore waved for Minerva to sit down. "Severus is just tired."

No. Dumbledore wasn't going to talk his way out of this one. He looked out of the corner of his eye for the opportune moment while he continued his pacing. Harry deserved better than this. Even he as a former Death Eater deserved more than this blatant lying. Harry was his child, and the Headmaster would have to learn that he couldn't treat Harry as a pawn any longer.

Dumbledore turned his head to address Minerva and there was his opportunity. Severus pivoted to face the Headmaster with his wand in hand and spell on his lips.

"Expelliarmus!" Severus flicked his wand at Dumbledore.

A look of surprise crossed the Headmaster's face as his wand flew out of his hand and into Severus'. The Potions Master pocketed the wand after casting a few anti-summoning spells on it.

"Severus Snape! What is the meaning of this?" Minerva wagged her finger at him. "I understand that you're upset at the Headmaster, but that is no way to treat a wizard of his position!"

"I refuse to respect a person who's hidden my son from me for nearly fifteen years!" Severus twirled his wand.

"What?" Minerva yelled. Severus watched her look from him to the Headmaster. "Fifteen years... " she paused. "Harry! Severus, is Harry your son?"

"Yes," Severus nodded, refusing to look Minerva in the eye. Would she accept that her favorite Gryffindor was really his son and not Potter's? While they had always had a good relationship once Severus joined the Hogwarts' staff and even when he was a student for Minerva appreciated his dedication to his studies, she had openly favored Potter and Marauders during his time as a Hogwarts student.

"Albus, you knew?" Minerva whipped her head around to interrogate Dumbledore.

"I did," the Headmaster dropped his head into his hands. "I thought it was best for Harry's protection."

"Yet, it wasn't your choice to make, was it?" Minerva grilled Albus, and the Potions Master couldn't be any happier to have an ally. She had been the perfect choice for someone to back him up.

"No," Dumbledore sighed, his hand reaching up for the angry red envelope that came zooming across the room from the fireplace as the Muggle clock on the office wall chimed two. "Molly has been sending me one, every hour, on the hour since I left the meeting last night."

Severus couldn't help but smirk. It served Albus right to be receiving numerous howlers from the fiery witch. He watched while the Headmaster handled the envelope with his arms extended outward, his fingers touching just enough of the envelope to open it before dropping it onto his desk.

"I cannot believe you, Albus Dumbledore!" Molly's irate voice shrieked. "Not only did you obliviate me, but you did so to convince me that Harry wasn't sick! Have you seen the child lately? I'd be amazed if he could cast a Lumos, let alone any shields or hexes, yet you wish to have him confront You-Know-Who soon?"

He took a step back, making a mental note not to anger Molly anytime soon. The wrath he'd face from her yesterday was nothing compared to how angry she sounded now.

"Harry is in no condition to take part in your plans, and if I even hear that you're still thinking he will, I'll personally be in your office to discuss this misconception that you're disillusioning yourself with! And if that doesn't work, I'll bring up your neglectfulness with the Board! I've heard enough from Fred and George to more than have a case!" Molly's voice threatened. "Oh, and will you please have Severus floo call me at his convenience? Ron is worried about Harry, and I'd like to see about a visit if Harry is up to it."

The Potions Master sighed and ran his hand through his hair. It was inevitable that the youngest Weasley boy would wish to see Harry now, but he wasn't sure if it was in Harry's best interests to mix in a visit in between everything else the boy was dealing with. Although, it could be a wonderful distraction for Harry as long as his child didn't get too worked up over it. He'd have to see how Harry was feeling, emotionally and physically when he returned to his quarters before flooing Molly.

"Severus, who's with Harry right now?" He felt her looking him up and down. The Potions Master tried to stand up straighter and open his eyes wider, but it was no use. He was exhausted, and it wouldn't matter what he tried to do to make himself look otherwise.

"Poppy."

"Good, then perhaps we can move to my quarters and discuss this in a less hostile environment," she glared at Dumbledore. "I don't wish to invade your privacy, but I'd like to know how this happened."

"Of course," Severus agreed. Minerva deserved to know the role she played in the Vow anyhow. "But before we'd leave," Severus looked at Albus once again, "I need to borrow Harry's file."

"I cannot stop you, just as I cannot stop any other parent wishing to view his child's file," Albus stood up and crossed the room to a locked cabinet. "My wand, Severus."

He pulled out the Headmaster's wand and canceled the charms before handing it back to the Headmaster, his own wand remaining in his hand. Severus watched Albus suspend the wards protecting the cabinet and retrieve two folders. One was the standard yellowish color with pieces of parchment falling out it was so thick while the other file was about one-third as thick and pink. "Please remember, I did what I thought was best," Dumbledore said as he handed over the folders, a deep frown set on his face.

Severus took the files and left the Headmaster's office without so much as a nod of thanks.

-----

Darkness swirled around Harry. Screams and cries penetrated through the dark fog, growing louder as Harry felt himself being tugged down. Where, he wasn't sure, but it was growing clearer by the second that the screams and cries were from a person in a horrendous amount of pain.

As Harry fell the dark fog cleared until he was able to see the sickening sight in front of him. Voldemort stood before him, his wand rested casually in his hand. "Hello, Harry," he lips turned up into a dangerous smile. "It was nice of you to join me this afternoon."

"Go away!" Harry screamed, hoping he was experiencing a nightmare and nothing more. He pulled out his wand, aiming it towards the man who had made his life a living hell.

"Not so fast," Voldemort admonished with a lazy wave of his hand. Harry's wand flew out of his grasp and landed at Voldemort's feet. "I believe it's time to punish you for that little stunt Snape pulled. Did he think he could really keep me from coming back?"

"He's here!" Harry lied, his hands shaking as his breaths became shorter and further in between. He tried to calm himself, but without Snape there to guide him, Harry was falling deeper into a panic attack.

"Foolish child! I would feel if that traitor was anywhere near your mind," Voldemort flicked his wand. A purple light shot out from the tip and hit Harry square in the chest. He fell backwards and landed on his rear before five metal straps sprung out from the floor on his right side. The straps flew over his body to the left side, securing themselves to the floor. Then, the straps pushed Harry down until he was laying fully on his back, his arms stuck to his sides and the metal straps tightened until they just cut into his skin, trapping Harry to the floor.

Harry gulped, unable to do anything more than hope that Severus returned from Dumbledore's office and came into his room to check on him because the silencing spells he had set around his bed would keep anyone from hearing his inevitable screams.

"Crucio," Voldemort crouched down and whispered into his ear as he rested his wand an inch from Harry's chest.

His nerves were set on fire and his body convulsed against the metal straps placed across his forehead, upper chest, waist, knees, and ankles. The straps tore into his skin, and the cold metal sent bursts of intense pain up and down his body.

The pain escalated as Harry was kept under the Cruciatus spell. He wished for unconsciousness, anything to escape the pain. He'd rather undergo ten more bone marrow biopsies than writhe under Voldemort's spell for a second longer.

"Not so tough on the inside, are you Harry?" Voldemort kicked him. His body was shoved against the metal straps, piercing his skin.

A metallic smell entered Harry's nose as he felt blood sliding down his skin, but there was nothing he could do. Voldemort had him trapped without a chance for escape, and Snape, the person who was supposed to be protecting him, hadn't come to his rescue.

Harry screamed as he shot up in bed. He leaned over the side of the bed just in time to empty his stomach onto the floor rather than his bed.

-----

Severus lifted one eyelid while he stretched, wondering when he had fallen asleep. Tan walls surrounded him, a wall color not present anywhere in his quarters. He jumped up, scanning the room for more clues.

"Did you sleep well?" a voice asked from behind.

The Potions Master spun around, his wand out and pointed towards the source of the voice.

"Minerva!" Severus lowered his wand. "What did you think you were doing coming behind me like that?"

"I didn't mean to startle you," the Deputy Headmistress walked around the sofa and took a seat in an armchair opposite Severus. "You look much better."

"What?" he blinked. It took a lot for Severus to become confused. For the longest time his life depended upon knowing his surroundings as a spy that it had become natural to always keep his guard up.

"We're in my quarters at Hogwarts," Minerva smiled, not just any smile, but one that looked like she was explaining a new concept to a young child. "After meeting with the Headmaster, you came here to explain how Harry is your son. We then took tea, and you just fell asleep on the sofa."

"I fell asleep?" Severus questioned. Had Dumbledore drugged him? No, he hadn't eaten or drank anything while in the Headmaster's presence. He couldn't have just fallen asleep. He needed to check up on Harry and start to wade through his child's school files to develop a lesson plan that would work for Harry's sixth year courses. Not to mention he still hadn't screened the letters from Harry's friends or started brewing the memory restorative draught.

"Yes, and I'm not surprised you did, Severus. You need to take care of yourself as well as Harry," Minerva chided.

"There's no time. Harry wakes up throughout the night," he explained as he sunk into the sofa. When Minerva had something to say, it was fruitless to try to escape from her. Otherwise, she'd corner him soon enough to have her say except she'd be angry on top of it.

"Do you not remember the first rule when taking care of infants?"

"Harry's not an infant," Severus objected.

"No, but his sleeping patterns are similar. You need to sleep when he does and accept help when help is offered," Minerva floated over a cup of coffee to him.

Severus gladly took the coffee and sipped the warm contents despite Minerva's gentle scolding making him feel like a first year all over again. "How long was I sleeping?"

"Four hours. I flooed Poppy for you, and she was happy to stay there as long as she needed to," Minerva answered.

Severus nodded. Perhaps, his colleague was right. The four uninterrupted hours of sleep had seemed to do wonders to his mental state and overall level of sleep deprivation.

"Take your time and finish your coffee before you leave," Minerva stood up. "I'll be in my study organizing some paperwork, and don't hesitate to ask for help, even if you just need a break for a few hours."

"Thank you," Severus appreciated the offer.

He sat back and enjoyed the silence and peacefulness offered from being alone while he sipped his coffee. He'd follow Minerva's advice to take a few moments for himself before returning to his quarters, refreshed and ready to deal with whatever tantrum Harry decided to grace him with. 

-----

Facing the wall, Harry lay curled up in a ball with his sheet covering him. Anything heavier felt like needles piercing his skin. His whole body shook with the aftereffects of the Cruciatus spell that Voldemort had cast on him and the smallest movement hurt.

His PCA pump button rested in his hand, and Harry kept pressing it every few minutes, but he must've reached the limit because the pain hadn't dulled since the first extra boost.

He whimpered as another burst of pain shot up his spine. That was where the worst pain seemed concentrated. Everywhere else hurt, but every time Harry attempted to roll over or touch his back it brought tears to his eyes.

"Harry," Snape knocked at his doorway. "May I come in?"

"Go away," Harry tucked his arms close to him under the sheet to make the shaking less noticeable. He refused to tell Snape about the mental attack. If Snape could keep secrets, so could he. Besides, he didn't want the man rifling through his mind at the moment anyways. What good would it do when Snape wasn't there when he needed him?

"How are you feeling?" Harry felt the bed dip as Severus sat down and placed his hand on Harry's forehead. His skin felt like it was burning under Snape's hand, but Harry forced himself not to flinch or pull away since it would be a dead giveaway that he wasn't feeling well at all.

"Fine," Harry lied, hoping to get Snape to leave the room as fast as possible. "You've checked on me and seen I haven't done anything to mess up my chemo, so you can go now."

Couldn't Snape see he didn't want him there? It was getting harder and harder to force his body to stay as still as possible, and if Snape noticed the shaking, he'd demand to know what was wrong with him.

"If that's what you really want," the Potions Master sighed. "I'll be in the sitting room if you need anything."

Harry waited until Snape left before sighing with relief. Now, he'd just wait for his nerves to recover. They always did within an hour or so in the past, and Harry couldn't see why this time would be any different.