14 July, 1996 Day 7

After his outburst with both Snape and Dudley on Friday, Harry was trying his hardest to curb his irritation away from other people and things beyond his control. He was far from perfect, and he gave himself some leniency when dealing with his Aunt and Uncle, but overall he thought he was handling it well. He was going as far as to avoid Dudley whenever possible, which wasn't as difficult as he thought it would be.

On Sunday, he was sitting at his desk, dressed in another comfortable pair of pyjamas, light blue this time, after showering and eating a light breakfast, waiting on his blood results. According to the healer, the results would show if he was healthy enough to receive the treatment that day. He laughed at the irony that they were checking to see if he was healthy enough to get a poison injected to him, which in turn makes him sick, so it can try to cure a completely different illness.

He was reading through one of the books Snape had left for him to help keep him busy. It was an American muggle book, To Kill a Mockingbird, questioning where Snape would have come across a book like this. Either way, it was nothing like he assumed it would be based on the title, but gave him something different to read besides his school books and he was getting pretty interested in it along the way.

He looked up from his book when he heard a tapping on his window. Unlike last week's chemo, today was a beautiful day making Harry more irritated for not only having to stay inside, but that he would likely be in bed - or the loo - most of the day. A spark of happiness raced through him when he looked to the window and saw Hedwig tapping on the glass.

"Hedwig," he exclaimed, opening the window to let her in. He allowed the window to sit open a little longer than he should have just to feel the morning breeze. The snowy owl held out her leg for Harry to take the letter. As expected, it was from Ron. Harry's heart started racing knowing this was likely a reaction to his best friend learning about the leukemia. He reached into the desk to pull out an owl treat for Hedwig, still unsure if he wanted to read the letter now, when Healer Smithe and Snape walked in.

"You... have... an owl," Healer Smithe said surprised.

"Yes sir," Harry answered, "this is Hedwig. She's been at my friend's house."

Harry could tell by the sympathetic look in the healer's eyes that was not a good thing.

"I'm sorry Harry," the healer said, "but Hedwig will need to go to Severus's room from now on."

"Wait," Harry felt like he was losing a friend, "I can't even see her?"

This time it was Snape that responded, "We talked about keeping your surroundings as clean as possible. Unfortunately your owl is counterproductive to that endeavor."

Harry looked at Hedwig wondering if she would go with either man. As if reading his mind, Healer Smithe held out his arm in front of Hedwig.

"Go on girl," Harry urged her. "You'll have to stay in the guest room until I can finish this letter back."

Reluctantly, Hedwig stepped onto the offered arm and was led out of the room. Harry once again felt very alone.

"Alton said your blood counts are holding steady," Snape got right down to business. "He'll start the antiemetic once he's back in."

Harry nodded, still fingering the letter in his hand.

"From your friends? Mr. Weasley, no doubt?"

"Yeah," Harry mumbled. "I'm a little nervous to open it. Do you think that's normal?"

"Absolutely," Snape sat on the edge of the bed.

"Ron hasn't always had the best reaction to startling news," Harry admitted. "Who knows how he'll react to this."

"I'm sure his mother made him wait before writing to you and likely read it before she allowed him to send it. She wouldn't let him upset you in such a state," Harry didn't know that Snape was concerned for this exact scenario and had spoken about it at length with Molly when he'd told her the news on Friday.

"I think I'll wait to read it," Harry placed the letter on top of his desk.

"Please don't delay too long," Snape said amused, "after all, your owl is my roommate until you reply."

"I'll work on that today," Harry said to which Snape simply nodded.

Within 15 minutes, Harry was hooked up to the antiemetic medicine through his port. Without anything else to do, he picked up To Kill a Mockingbird when there was a knock on his door. At this point, Snape usually just walked into the room, Harry's privacy seemingly abandoned by his 3rd or 4th trip to sick up in the loo last week.

"Come in," he tentatively said, more curious than anything about who would be knocking at his door.

He was more surprised than he should have been when Dudley walked in.

"Oh Merlin," Harry complained.

"Who's Merlin?" Dudley asked, staring warily at the I.V. stand and tubing running from it to Harry's chest; through his buttoned down pyjama shirt.

"He's a wizard... nevermind," Harry shook his head, "what are you doing in here?"

"Can I, y'know, come in?"

Harry took a deep breath. Dudley never asked his permission for anything and technically still considered this room his second bedroom, so Harry didn't see why he bothered asking.

"Sure," Harry stood up off the armchair and gestured for Dudley to take it as he pulled his IV stand so he could lay on the bed. "What do you want?"

"Uh," Dudley stuttered.

"Eloquent as always I see," Harry smirked. He couldn't pass up the chance to throw that out. It would have been better if Snape were in the room to hear it though.

"Hey!" Dudley looked offended. "I wanted to check after our last talk."

"It's fine Dudley," Harry didn't like being backed against a corner and yet that's how he felt right now. Instead, he turned to look out the window feeling envious of the neighborhood kids allowed to go outside.

Somehow Dudley managed to pick up on Harry's look because he said, "You can't go outside."

It wasn't a question, but Harry answered anyway, "No I can't. Apparently this whole process makes me more likely to get sick from germs. And then if that doesn't kill me the psychopathic dark wizard after me will."

He saw a look pass by his cousin's face. Harry refused to believe it was pity. He couldn't handle Dudley Dursley's pity. Luckily they were interrupted by Snape and Healer Smithe coming back in.

"Ok, you should be ready to move onto the good stuff," the healer said. Harry wanted to disagree, the antiemetic was the good stuff.

Snape was watching Dudley gauging what Harry's reaction would be to his cousin's presence.

"And I'll have more later this week?" Harry asked, ignoring the other 2 occupants in the room.

"That's right," the healer added while changing out the lines for his first chemo medication. "We're adding a new medication which will be given Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday for the next three weeks."

"Also in the port?" Harry asked looking away as the needle was pressed into his chest. While the numbing agent made sure he didn't feel the prick, he didn't like looking at it as it went in.

"Yes that's correct."

"Great," Harry couldn't have made that sound any more sarcastic. "And I'm guessing I'll feel the same way afterwards?"

"More or less," Harry could tell he was being intentionally vague, "they pretty much all work the same way. This one may also make you feel feverish."

Harry just looked at the healer. What else could he say, the alternative was dying and he didn't want that, especially not before defeating Voldemort, so that's pretty much it.

"How's your pain level been?" Healer Smithe asked after the drip was set up and running.

Harry thought hard on how to answer that question. It wasn't in his nature to complain. "I don't know. The prescription strength tablets work much better than the Paracetamol lately, but even those aren't lasting as long as they used to."

Snape added, "He hasn't been given the Paracetamol since Wednesday. It just wasn't working."

Healer Smithe bent down into his bag and pulled out a bottle. He handed it to Snape, "If it gets unmanageable, and you'll know when that happens, the Morphine should help."

Snape examined the bottle, shook his head in agreement and walked out presumably to put that with Harry's other medications.

"I'll be back to swap the bags in a bit," Healer Smithe was packing up while talking and placed the dreaded pail next to Harry's bed, "just sit back and try to relax."

"Sure thing sir," Harry replied as the adults all left the room leaving only him and Dudley.

"What's this?" Dudley asked, picking up Harry's old potions textbook.

This should be interesting.

"It's one of my text books from school," Harry tried to keep from smirking, waiting for the scream to inevitably leave Dudley's mouth when he realized he touched something magical. "It's actually the subject that Professor Snape teaches."

"Potions? What is Potions?" Dudley was flipping through the book.

"Erm... I guess it's like muggle chemistry," having never taken chemistry in his muggle primary school, for obvious reasons, it was only a guess.

"Your professor is a bit terrifying. Is he like that in class?"

"Oh, he's much worse in class," Harry almost laughed. "We have a complicated history."

Dudley looked up at his pale cousin, "I wouldn't have guessed that."

Now Harry's interest had peaked, "Really? Why do you think that?"

Dudley placed the book down, "None of my professors would step in like yours did and help with my medical problems."

Harry didn't doubt that, but Dudley's never been one to elicit any warm and fuzzy feelings for anyone either. Not only that, he had two adoring parents to take care of any of his needs. When he really thought about it, Harry wouldn't want to end up like Dudley; where it took the death of a classmate to open his eyes to the type of life he's lived.

"It's kind of his job," Harry waved off the comment.

"You're not in school, so it's really not his responsibility."

There was no way Harry was going to get into the responsibility of the Order. In the end, he knew Snape was only stepping up because the Order needed to keep him safe. He had a job to do and until Voldemort was gone for good, they'd do anything to protect him. It was a saddening thought when he dwelled on it for too long.

"It's complicated, Dudley. It's nothing like that," Harry's heart was pounding as his breathing increased. "Hey Dudley," Harry started, "can you hand me..."

Luckily Dudley understood what his cousin was asking for and handed Harry the pail just in time for him to vomit inside it instead of on the floor. Dudley was uncomfortable as if he were intruding on a personal moment. Of course, it wasn't personal for long as midway through Harry's heaving, the healer and potions professor walked in.

Hearing the retching, Snape approached the bed. Harry felt the bed dip down as the dry heaves were finally ending. Handing Harry a glass of water, he pointed his wand into the bucket to vanish the sick away. Dudley's eyes went wide.

"Time to swap bags," the healer was already moving the bags around on the stand. Harry leaned against his pillows giving the man full access to the port site. Looking to his right, Dudley was watching everything they did.

"So, why can't you use magic to make this disappear?" Harry expected his cousin to have an exceedingly stupid question, but this was actually a logical one.

"Cancer is pretty rare in the wizarding world, so we don't have much to treat it," Harry explained since Snape and the healer were discussing some aspect of his treatment amongst themselves.

"How did you get it then?" Dudley asked. Harry didn't want to think about this question, but couldn't blame his cousin for asking.

"I dunno," he answered honestly. "Does it really matter?"

"I guess not," Dudley answered and picked up the potions book again. Snape was watching him flip through the text.

"Something interest you?" Snape asked when Dudley stopped on a page to read.

"This says it's a 'Be-fun-del-la-ment draught', " Dudley looked up at the professor. "What does that do?"

"The Befuddlement Draught," the Potions Master slowly corrected watching Harry as he was looking more nauseated by the second, "when brewed correctly, will cause the drinker to become reckless."

Dudley looked both terrified and amazed at the same time. "Why would someone make that?"

This time Snape didn't patronize the boy with a response. Instead, he focused on Harry who was leaning against his pillows with a grimace of pain on his closed eyes.

Harry was listening to Dudley's insane questions. Why was he even here? He doesn't care what happens to Harry or about his school anyway. What he wouldn't give to be anywhere else right now, even sitting in potions class.

Ok, maybe that's too far.

In order to avoid this awful conversation, he feigned sleep. He had no doubt that Snape likely knew he wasn't actually sleeping, and silently thanked the man for not calling him out on it. Once he felt the line removed from his port, the healer bid Snape goodbye promising to be back on Tuesday to start the new medication, and he heard the door close, he silently laid there listening to the sound of his uneven breathing. He heard a rustling sound near his desk and inwardly moaned. He wasn't alone like he'd hoped.

"What are you doing here?"

The sound paused, "I thought I'd wait for you to wake up," Dudley explained. "Just in case you need anything."

Harry was feeling suffocated. How did he go from not a single person in #4 Privet Drive giving a damn about him to now feeling suffocated by them?

"Ok, Dudley. I give up," Harry sat up carefully, "what is it that you want?"

Dudley appeared to be thinking hard about this subject, "I feel bad."

"So this is about helping ease your guilt?" Harry couldn't keep the anger and resentment out of his voice.

"No!" Dudley yelled. "It's not like that. After all those counselor meetings at school... I found that I actually liked talking to them. It helped me sort some of the things going through my mind. And after those dementy things last summer, there was a lot to think about."

Harry listened while staring at his bare feet dangling off the edge of his bed. At this point it would almost be better to cut his losses and just forget about why Dudley wanted to talk things through, if nothing else, than to hurry this process along.

"They said I should talk to you about it. Since you still live here." Dudley added.

"Only one and a half summers left and I'll be free," Harry mumbled to himself. He raised his head and met Dudley's eyes. "Dudley, we're not going to be friends. That broom has left, so to say."

"I know that," Dudley had regret written across his face and Harry realized what Snape had meant by Harry wearing his emotions on his face. Dudley was extremely easy to read. "I just want to help you now."

Too tired to argue, Harry asked, "Can you hand me that letter?" He pointed to the parchment Hedwig delivered this morning. He might as well read it now.

Dudley picked it up like it might have been poisoned, "Who's it from?"

Harry resisted the urge to tell him it wasn't any of his business. "I'm guessing my best friend Ron," Harry glared at Dudley threatening him to question Harry having friends. "My owl was at his house."

Harry took the letter from his cousin.

"What's that on your hand?" Dudley asked as Harry's right hand reached to grab the letter.

Harry looked down and saw the familiar scar, I must not tell lies.

"It's complicated," Harry put the letter under his pillow and covered his right hand with his left.

His cousin didn't say anything for about a minute, then he challenged, "You say that a lot... That's it's complicated"

Something about that statement broke a dam of emotion within Harry that he'd been trying his hardest to hold back. He refused to cry in front of his cousin, so he clenched his jaw closed to hold it in as best he could.

"My life is complicated and if you can't see that, I can't even start to explain it to you." He never could understand why Ron was so jealous of him. He'd give all his fame and fortune to live like Ron - not being targeted for things beyond his control, having a family that cared about him, not having the fate of the wizarding world on his shoulders, not having everyone around him dying, not fighting an invisible disease within his blood. Harry felt defeated in every way possible.

"Obviously I know about your parents and the cancer, but did you do that to yourself?," Dudley asked, gesturing to Harry's hand.

"Oh, you know about my parents? Do you though?," Harry raised his voice trying to sort through his thoughts. "Did you know my parents were murdered because some dark wizard wanted to kill me? That the last thing they ever did was die to protect me? And now that same wizard is back and actively trying to kill me? That's why professor Snape is here. He's tasked with protecting me from that wizard until I'm good enough to finally kill him, nothing more."

He knew Dudley had heard that his parents had not died in a car crash like he had been told, but there's only so much a kid at that age could comprehend. Harry had barely been able to understand what had happened besides his parents died heroically saving him and not drunks.

"And for the record... this," Harry lifted his hand for emphasis, "was done to me, got it? Now leave," he finally yelled and threw the first thing he could reach, his pillow, for good measure. "Leave NOW!"

~~~~SS~~~~

It was just after 2am when Severus felt the distinct buzzing from the sphere he kept on him that alerts him when Harry needed help. It had been a trying day, at best, as his thoughts cleared to the previous day's events.

He had no one to blame but himself for Harry's mood after leaving Dudley alone with him. In his old reality, Dudley and Harry had eventually reconciled and he, probably incorrectly, assumed that was the natural progression taking place here. Of course, Harry had several extra significant years with the Dursley's that he didn't have in the old reality, so that was bound to have an impact on it all. Either way, as the day lingered, he was getting a larger migraine from it all.

After the Dudley conflict, Harry had slept until mid-evening, mostly due to the increased morphine that Alton had prescribed. This gave some much needed time for Severus to catch up on work and rest. Unfortunately once Harry was awake, the time was spent with back and forth trips from the lavatory to playing chess or muggle cards in his bedroom.

Severus was getting concerned with how Harry was going to handle the mid-week chemo that was being added for the next 3 weeks because his body used that time the previous round to recover. Without that break, he wasn't sure how Harry would maintain his fluid and calorie intake. Even after all his research, he didn't expect the process to be this difficult. He doubted that had they done this in his other reality, it would be this challenging. Here, in addition to keeping up with Harry's care, he was also balancing the Dark Lord, the Order, and keeping Harry's relatives in line. It was too much.

He didn't need to look at the sphere to know he would find Harry back in the lavatory, wondering how long the teen had waited before finally calling him. Wrapping his black sleeping robe around himself, Severus walked out into the hall just as Vernon was coming from the lavatory.

"Does he have to do this at all hours of the day and night? All I ever hear anymore is the doors slamming," Vernon whined as he waddled past the professor. "Some of us actually have to work around here and need some peace and quiet!"

This time Severus couldn't resist the urge and used all his strength to grab the oversized man and slammed him into the wall. A picture frame hanging on his right of a three-person family out on a beach, Dudley looking about 8 years old and Harry clearly missing, trembled and fell from the impact. Severus didn't even blink when he heard the glass shatter across the floor.

"I'll have you know Dursley that there are things I'm more than capable of doing that would go completely unnoticed by your muggle authorities. Trust me, you do not want to test me on this," he brought his face so he was nose-to-nose with the man. "I don't even want to see you breathing towards that boy in there, understood?"

Vernon's face turned purple, both from anger and lack of oxygen due to Severus's arm across his large throat.

"I know your rules, you can't do your freaky things on normal people."

Severus tightened his grip, "It's really a shame sometimes, however never did I mention anything about using magic."

Vernon's eyes went wide when the implications made it through his idiotic brain. With one last shove into the wall, Severus let go of the man and said, "Now get out of my face," before continuing down the hallway.

He knocked once on the lavatory door and then looked in. Harry was shivering on the floor clearly in pain. He was paler - if that was even possible - and his emerald eyes were dull and sunken in, clearly not the healthy, defiant teenager from only a month ago, or even a couple days ago.

"S- sorry professor." His shoulders were slumped with his head held in his hands.

"It's nothing," Severus opened the medicine cabinet to pull out several bottles looking for the right one; it was time for his morphine dose. He summoned a glass and the ginger ale before kneeling in front of the young Gryffindor. "Here, this should help."

"Yeah," Harry sounded exhausted, but took the glass, "thank you."

Severus watched Harry take the medication wishing he could do something more; wishing he could comfort not only the boy who still felt like his son, but also the teenager who thought he was all alone in this life. The Potions Master grabbed a hand towel, dampened it, and placed it on the back of Harry's neck. They both sat on the floor against the bathtub, side-by-side, feet extended out in front of them.

"I think every time I come to the bathroom, it wakes Uncle Vernon up," Harry said through the shivers. "Don't see how, his room is on the other end of the house."

Severus took off his black sleeping robe and draped it across Harry's shoulders. "Don't think twice about him."

"H-hard not to s-sir," Harry stuttered, "he's been here yelling ev'ry time I'm in here."

The professor had to use his strong occlumency shields to keep his calm. Harry didn't need him throwing a fit right now.

As the minutes ticked away, Severus could tell Harry was relaxing into sleep. The young wizard was breathing deeply and leaned over to rest against Severus's arm, but no sooner did Harry's head touch his shoulder, he lurched up and was heaving into the loo. Severus kneeled up and placed his hand on Harry's shoulders to help support him upright. Once that round was done, he helped Harry stand so he could rinse his mouth again.

"Think you can get back into bed?" Severus asked. "You'll be infinitely more comfortable there and we can play another round of chess if you don't feel like sleeping." It was something he spent a lot of nights doing with his Harry in that last month. He shook his head side-to-side to clear those thoughts.

Harry just nodded, pulling the black robe tightly around him. Walking slowly out of the lavatory, making sure Harry didn't stumble, they made it back into the bedroom. Harry climbed into bed carefully and Severus pulled out the chess board peeking a look at the clock - 2:45 am - he would probably need to go back to his quarters to replenish his invigoration drafts.

They played with a companionable silence between them, neither fully focusing on the game.

"Professor McGonagall tells me you want to be an Auror," Severus brought up casually.

Harry smiled, "Yeah, I'm hoping so."

"Any reason why you think you won't? From what I hear, that group you taught last year was quite impressive." That was another difference Severus noticed with the different realities, without Umbridge as a defense professor Harry didn't need to run the defense association.

Harry flushed a little at the offhand compliment. "Oh, well thanks. I didn't realize news of that spread."

"Most of the professors knew and secretly supported your efforts. I also heard the members are expected to do above average in their defense O.W.L.s," he paused. "So I can only guess your hesitation is on your potions marks." It was a risky subject to bring up as they've typically stayed in neutral territory.

"Erm, that's probably the biggest factor...yeah," Harry was nervous. "But I can't do much else at this point until I get my marks back. I think I did better than I expected, I just don't know if it was Outstanding enough." Harry was examining the move Severus just did; it was obvious he wasn't too involved in the game.

"That's a very mature way to think about it," Severus frowned at Harry's rookie move.

"I've got plenty of other things I can be worrying about right now," Harry yawned at the end of that sentence. "At this rate, I might not be alive to do it anyway."

He looked at Harry trying to think of something to say. Everything always seemed worse in the middle of the night and he had no idea what to tell the boy in front of him.

"I know," Harry finally said, "I shouldn't dwell in self-pity."

"Very good advice," Severus complimented himself. "You'll get there, I promise you."

"Sure," Harry said with a blanket of sadness in his voice.

"Let's call it a night. You look about ready to sleep."

Severus started to pack the game up while Harry laid down in his bed and rolled onto his side.

"Sleep well Harry," he said as he got up, removed Harry's glasses and placed them on the desk. He took the sphere out of his pyjama pocket and placed it next to the glasses. His eyes caught a glimpse of the clock - 3:47 am - it would be dawn too soon.

"G'night professor," Harry sleepily replied. "Thank you."

"You needn't thank me Harry," he said quietly as he closed the door.

The Potion Master was happy that Harry slept until almost quarter to eleven, only waking shortly once to take his medications around seven that morning.

The only requirement Severus had for Harry during all of this was he needed to be downstairs for mealtimes, but he was more lenient after chemo days. Harry needed to get as much rest as he could get.

Severus was sitting at the desk in his room, clearly avoiding the Dursley's as much as possible, when there was a knock on his door. Grabbing his wand out of habit, he stood and slowly went to the door, cracking it open.

"Harry," he released his breath seeing the young wizard standing in front of him. Harry had showered, as was evident by his messy, still wet hair. He had also changed out of the pyjamas and into a pair of lounge pants and an oversized grey shirt.

"What can I do for you?" the professor asked, stepping out of his room into the hallway. Hedwig was back from hunting, so Harry could not enter the room until it had been fully cleaned.

Harry handed a letter to him, "Can you ask Hedwig to send this to Ron?"

"Of course," Severus replied. He looked at the letter then added, "You didn't mention my staying here, correct?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "No sir. I know better than to do something like that; besides Ron would flip out. I don't need that right now."

Severus nodded, then leaned back into the room to place the letter on the bed as a reminder to send it later.

"Are you hungry?" he asked Harry as they walked downstairs. He stopped Harry before he could inevitably say he wasn't, "I thought about trying a smoothie for lunch. The liquids seem to sit better on your stomach than the solids. Muggles have powders we can add to make them more nutritionally sound."

Harry flushed at the offer, "It's worth a try, professor. The worst that can happen is I sick it up anyway."

By the time they made it downstairs, Dudley was sitting at the table and Petunia was making lunch. Harry looked over at Severus to see the man's reaction. He appeared more smug than normal at the sight of his aunt.

"Hello Tuney," he called her that just to make her angry.

"Finally awake I see," she said to Harry, completely ignoring Severus. "Too many lie in's I'd say. It's bad for someone like you."

Harry had a confused look on his face, but just sat at the table across from Dudley.

"Morning Dudley," Harry said.

Severus was listening to Harry and his cousin, interested to hear where the conversation was headed, as he collected the ingredients he would be using for the smoothie. Severus wished he could take credit for the idea, but Alton had stopped by that morning to check in on Harry and had suggested it as a very common food for chemotherapy patients.

"Mornin' Harry," Dudley said, ignoring his mother's stern eyes to the use of his given name. "You missed breakfast earlier."

"I was sleeping," Harry spoke into the table since he'd placed his head onto it. "Besides, I wasn't hungry."

The next several minutes were silent until Severus placed the glass next to Harry. He tapped the teen's shoulder, "Here, give this a try."

"Thanks," Harry met the professor's dark eyes, his green pleading for some relief.

Harry took the first small sip, when Severus felt the familiar burning sensation in his left forearm. He covered it with his right hand.

It's the middle of the day for Merlin's sake!

Harry placed his hand over the professor's that was covering the mark, clearly having heard the small hiss of pain. An internal debate flooded Severus's mind

"Professor, you have to go," Harry said sympathetically. "I'll be fine, I really will this time."

Thinking quickly, Severus took out his wand and summoned Harry's sphere. He said several incantations, then handed it to Harry, "If you need anything, this will now alert the Headmaster."

After sending a quick patronus to Albus and summoning his Death Eater robes and mask, he walked out of the house. Passing the anti-apparation wards, he then left to be at his other master's side.