30th July, 1996

Harry woke up Tuesday morning to the sun shining across his bed from the enchanted window and feeling the best he had since restarting chemotherapy. Mrs. Weasley had graciously stayed up with him until he finally fell asleep sometime around one o'clock in the morning mostly talking about the upcoming school year and when Ron would come by to visit again. Harry could barely remember the conversation thinking back on it now, but he thought she said Ron would be back with her tomorrow. She left shortly after breakfast, which Snape had prepared for the two of them as a show of his gratitude for her staying overnight. Harry even managed to eat about half of his yoghurt and toast; so as far as days go, this one was starting out great.

During his one hour reprieve from all the medications, he managed to take a quick bath - after all the sweating through the pain and vomiting, he was really starting to feel gross - which also helped tremendously with his mental outlook of the day. He was even getting used to his limitations in the cast and it didn't seem as much of an issue now overall. Madam Pomfrey had recently left ending her turn of the night shift and Harry was casually leaning against the arm of the sofa working on his Transfiguration assignment; summarizing their work on vanishing charms from the previous year. He figured it was a responsible use of his time feeling well.

The sofa was now practically imprinted with his body shape and Harry was surprised how comfortable he was becoming in Snape's quarters. In fact, in the little time he'd been here, it was already starting to feel more like home than Privet Drive ever did. He couldn't explain why that was; it had nothing to do with his chores and it wasn't as if the bedroom actually was all that different after Snape fixed up his old room before his first chemo treatment. Something here was causing him to feel as if this was where he belongs; maybe even belonged this whole time.

"Did we live here?" Harry asked, his voice filling the otherwise silent room. He was staring into the fireplace that always seemed to be lit because of the cold dungeon air, he shivered even though he was covered in a blanket.

If Snape was surprised by Harry's question, he did not react to it; he simply placed down what Harry thought were lesson plans the professor was working on. Harry almost laughed at the sight because every year he always assumed the professors simply taught the same lessons as the previous year - besides the Defense professor who never lasted longer than a single year. However, the parchment had what appeared like a detailed outline that had far too many markings on it for that to be the case.

"You had a room here, of course, but during the school year you stayed mostly in the tower," Snape tentatively said. The professor paused as if trying to determine if that amount of information was enough to have answered Harry's question.

The Gryffindor was pleased when Snape continued, "The first week or so of summer holiday we'd stay here in the castle while I closed up the classroom. We'd then go back to my childhood home in Cokeworth for the reminder of the summer holiday... Occasionally we'd go home for the Christmas or Easter holiday otherwise we'd stay here."

Harry closed his eyes trying to imagine what it would be like to have a place outside of the castle walls to really call "home". What had his room looked like at their home? What would it be like to not pack up all his worldly possessions every time he came to school? What did they do on a typical day? Did he ever have his friends over? Did they have a Christmas tree and Christmas lights? If so, did they decorate it together every year? There was a whole other life about him that, had he obviously not died, he would almost prefer to this one.

"Is my room now the same as what you left?" The teen could hear his heart beating in his ears as he continued to ask about the life they had built elsewhere. This one was an awkward question, but for some reason important to Harry.

"Yes, it is the same. No point in recreating the broom, so to say. Although if there's anything you would like changed, I'm sure that can be arranged."

"No, that's not what I meant. I love my room here-" Harry trailed off. He had a whole range of questions cross his mind, but instead of asking any of them he simply said, "I'm not him, you know. I don't know if I can be him."

Snape leaned forward so his arms were resting on the top of his legs and he gently stared into Harry's emerald eyes, the brightest they'd been in a week, "I don't expect you to be him, Harry. You have had a whole range of other experiences in this world that have drastically shaped who you are as a person.

"Please don't think I expect you to be him. All I ask is at the same time, you don't expect me to be the Severus Snape you knew here either as I am not him any more than you are the other Harry."

"Besides the whole not hating me thing, you're not really all that different," the Gryffindor said boldly, letting a smile cross his face.

Snape didn't respond to that, but the younger wizard hadn't expected him to. There was no point in denying that the Potions Professor Harry knew the last 5 years had, indeed, hated him.

"Wait a minute, if we lived in the house you grew up in, then my mum must have lived near there too," Harry was connecting the dots to things he thought he should have made a long time ago. In this other world, he essentially grew up in the same place his mum had.

"That's correct," Snape said quietly. "While she lived in a different part, I often walked to her house."

Harry could see the odd look of grief on his professor's face, but he suddenly had this longing to know more.

"I thought you hated my mum? You called her a... you know," Harry felt himself getting angry for the injustice against his mother even though it was not even in his lifetime.

"I did call her that and it was one of the worst days of my life," Snape hesitantly said with a heavy heart. "Before that day though, she was my best friend; my only friend really. We were practically inseparable."

Harry's breath hitched, but he stayed silent to allow the man to collect his thoughts.

It took about a minute, but Snape continued, "I was the one who told her she was a witch."

"Really?!" somehow Harry had forgotten that like himself, his mum would have had accidental magic and no idea why. He would have loved to have someone explain it to him before Hagrid managed to track him down, even if that person was Snape.

"Yes. Even at nine, I could tell she was going to be a powerful witch. She had such control over her magic even then," Snape said lost in the memory.

"So did you guys stop talking because she was sorted into Gryffindor?" Harry naturally assumed that was what drove them apart and given the environment between the houses now, he wouldn't blame either of them.

"Not at all," Snape explained, "In fact we managed to stay close friends despite the inter house rivalry. The memory you saw was what broke our friendship apart. I said what I did out of frustration and anger, but not towards her; I never thought of Lily like that even when I said it... Understandably, she never forgave me and that was it."

He could have been reading too much into the situation, but Snape sounded... almost... heartbroken; as if his mum may have been more than a friend to him.

Was his Patronus a doe?

Harry immediately tabled those thoughts for later, he had a lot of other things going through his mind to sort through. It was easy to be angry at Snape when he'd thought the Slytherin called her that name and they had hated each other, kind of like Hermione and Malfoy - but if they were close friends? It made the black and white situation a little more grey. He would never call Hermione that and if, for some reason he did, she would have every right to never forgive him. So then why was he feeling sorrow for Snape losing his best friend; he should have deserved it right? Of course, friends make mistakes too; what about the way Ron acted fourth year when he thought Harry had entered into the Triwizard Tournament? He forgave Ron for how he'd acted and they had known each other less time than Snape and his mum knew one another. It was all very confusing.

"Did I ever see it? Where Mum grew up?"

"Of course you did," the Potions Master said as if questioning why Harry would think he hadn't seen it. "I took you by there along with Godric's Hollow the first summer you stayed with me. Godric's Hollow is where your parents are buried; I take it you have not been to see your parents' graves."

It wasn't a question. Why would his relatives even consider taking him there? Harry shook his head.

"I'd like to go sometime," the Gryffindor said lightly. And it was true; he'd had this longing to visit his parents' final resting place, to feel close to them even in death. "Once I'm no longer held hostage indoors."

"Hopefully, this will be over soon and you'll rejoin your obnoxiously loud Gryffindors," he paused with a slight smirk to his face, "but I promise you, I will arrange a visit for you then."

"Sir? With my aunt and uncle... gone, what's going to happen with me? I doubt they assigned me another guardian." The unknown in front of him was sometimes overwhelming and he wished he could know what would happen in the end with him.

"I don't think Professor Dumbledore has had a chance to address that yet," Snape said carefully choosing his words.

A wave of anger hit Harry like a herd of hippogriffs, "Why does Dumbledore have so much control over me? Is he this involved with other orphaned students? Or is it only because I'm the Boy-Who-Lived?"

Snape's eyes narrowed, "Professor Dumbledore is responsible for all the students' welfare in this school, but you do have certain... circumstances that require his involvement beyond that which might be considered normal."

Harry opened his mouth several times to start what was sure to be an immature response, but in the end he held it back. He'd said plenty in the Headmaster's office last year, which seemed like a lifetime ago.

"Because of the prophecy? Do you know about the prophecy sir?" Now that Harry thought about it, he'd mentioned it the other day and Snape never said anything one way or the other.

The professor's breathing shallowed, "Yes, I know of the prophecy, the majority of which comes from my other memories. And yes, I believe that has something to do with the Headmaster's interest in your placement." Snape leaned back in the armchair again silently hoping Harry would move on; neither of them would be able to handle the story behind the prophecy right now.

Another silence enveloped them as Harry tried to navigate his own wandering thoughts. How did he feel about technically being orphaned for the second time by the same person? Maybe he could get away without needing a guardian; simply become emancipated? He'd been taking care of himself his whole life anyway, what difference would this be? Could he find a place to live on his own that would protect him from Voldemort?

"If you have no other questions, I have to get some brewing done this morning," Snape explained tidying up his lesson plans. When Harry nodded he continued, "Molly won't be back today, but I'll still be very easily reachable here with the sphere should you need anything. This afternoon, I'll be working on the project for the Order in my office here instead of my classroom's office."

"That's fine sir," Harry said confidently, "It's probably the best day for it, I'm actually feeling loads better this morning."

"Then the medicine is actually working." Snape walked over and lifted Harry's chin to get a better look. Satisfied, he continued, "As I told you previously, you don't have to call me sir. While you're living here, if you'd like, Severus is fine."

Harry thought about that and while he wasn't 100% sure he was completely comfortable with that, he couldn't deny the man had earned that right. Meeting his professor's eyes he said, "Yeah, that's ok. Thank you si- Severus."

Snape nodded in appreciation and summoned a glass of water which he placed on the table in front of Harry where a stack of school books and novels sat. "Do not try to get around on your own. Unless I hear otherwise, I'll be back at lunchtime."

Harry gave a small smile. As odd as it was for the teen, it felt good to have someone who cared how he was doing. For the first time since learning about Snape's other world while at Privet Drive, Harry could understand how a version of his 11-year old self could have ended up with this version of Snape.

"Trust me, I'm not going anywhere on my own."

Once Snape left, Harry tried to double down on completing at least one of his summer assignments. The problem was, he had a hard time staying focused; even after changing subjects to both Charms and DADA, he still didn't get much progress done. He switched gears to try to write to Ron and Hermione, but he didn't really have much to tell either of them in a letter.

Finally, after about two hours had gone by, he lowered himself further down the sofa and closed his eyes to try and sleep. Breathing deeply, he tried to clear his mind and not think about what was going on with his body. He went back to thinking about flying since that worked well before the biopsy. He was up on his Firebolt high above the trees feeling almost weightless zooming through the air. He could almost feel the wind against his skin.

It was working up until he heard the door close in front of him, somewhere near Snape's office.

"Severus?"

Harry's eyes shot open when he heard the one voice he would never expect or want to hear at this exact moment.

"Malfoy?" Harry tried to get up, but instead fell ungracefully to the floor with a hard plunk and then called out "Shit!"

~~~~SS~~~~

It was amazing how much more a person could focus after only one good night's sleep. He went to bed much earlier than normal after telling Draco they'd go over his Occlumency training again this afternoon; he was nowhere near the right state of mind to discuss it with the young Slytherin. Each day, he got further from believing Draco could pull off such a subterfuge and not get himself killed in the process. He knew Albus was biased against his house, but surely the old man wouldn't send Draco to an early, and what was bound to be a painfully slow death - ironically a death Severus, himself, was currently avoiding.

The Potions Master finished up the first batch of potions for the infirmary with still about an hour to spare before lunchtime. He started to inventory his own supplies when the door to his lab was pulled open. Immediately on alert because no one should be in his quarters besides Harry - who was on strict orders not to move around alone - he quickly walked towards the stairs where he saw Draco at the top.

"Severus!" Draco called out his voice laced with panic; very unusual for the teen.

"What are you doing in here? Did I not make it clear last night that you were not to just show up in my quarters?" Harry had been left laying on the sofa and, unless he was sleeping, there was no way Draco came to the office unnoticed and even if Harry was sleeping, Draco would have clearly seen the Gryffindor.

"This is not the fucking time for a lecture," Draco ran his hands through his blonde hair. "It's Potter, he's on your floor bleeding everywhere."

Severus pushed Draco out of the way as he hurried up the stairs, out of his office, and into the sitting room. Harry was sitting up against the sofa holding his bleeding left hand which used to hold the IV of the antiemetic.

"I'm fine!" Harry called out when he saw Severus come through the door. "I fell off the sofa and the IV pulled out."

"Ripped out is more like it," Draco called from behind as if he had any idea of what was going on. "What is that thing and why was it stuck in your hand?"

"Stop," the professor warned Draco. Kneeling in front of Harry, he summoned a pair of gloves and examined the chemo line. "The port's still attached... that's good to see. Let's take a look at your hand."

Given Harry's lower than normal platelet count from the chemo, his blood was less likely to clot, thus his hand was indeed bleeding quite profusely.

"Draco," Severus called out, "Go firecall Madam Pomfrey. There's floo powder on the mantle. Tell her she's needed in my quarters immediately."

To Draco's credit, he only mildly sneered at the demand before walking over to the floo. Severus transfigured a couple pieces of parchment from the table into bandages and started wrapping Harry's hand.

"That was my Charms essay!" Harry complained, but stopped abruptly at the look Severus gave him. "It probably needed to be rewritten anyway."

"What happened?"

"Erm... I was caught off guard when Malfoy walked in," Harry said angrily. "What's he doing here and how did he get in?"

"We'll discuss that at a later time," he said as Madam Pomfrey came in through the floo. The bandages were already soaking through with Harry's blood.

"Healer Smithe should be here any minute, but let me have a look," she grabbed his hand and examined where the IV pulled back a chunk of his skin. Turning to Severus she asked, "I take it you don't want to heal this with magic?"

"No," Severus and Harry answered in unison. Severus peered over his shoulder at Draco who was intently watching this exchange. There was no way the Slytherin missed that statement; Occlumency was becoming more important by the minute for both boys.

"What do we have here?" Alton announced as he came through the floo.

"I fell," Harry explained scowling at Draco when he said it, "and my IV pulled out. I think most of the bleeding has stopped by now."

"The chemo line is still intact, I take it?" The healer asked, putting on a pair of gloves and just like Severus checked that first.

"Yes sir, I believe so." Harry held out his hand as the healer examined it.

"I'll just get this bandaged up for you and we can move the IV to your other hand. I'm going to give you something to help the clotting just in case." The healer took out all the necessary equipment and got to work bandaging Harry's hand.

"Severus," Draco called out, still standing out of the way by the fireplace. The professor walked over to his Slytherin. "Are you still going to claim there's nothing wrong with Potter? Just look at him."

"If you remember correctly, I did not tell you nothing was wrong," Severus corrected, "I told you it was none of your concern."

"Are you kidding me?" Draco called out. "He's going to get me killed."

"Unless you advance in your Occlumency, you are probably correct," the professor was running through different scenarios in his head, none of which ended well for Draco.

"I can do this," Draco called out. "You haven't even given me a chance yet."

Severus watched Alton restart the IV in Harry's right hand this time and then got him started on the next batch of chemo while he was here anyway.

"Let's go into the kitchen and get out of their way," Severus said, pushing Draco against his will.

Later that afternoon, the two Slytherins found themselves back in Severus's office after a grueling Occlumency lesson that left them both sweating and finally gave Severus a small sliver of hope that Draco can actually do this.

"Tomorrow, we'll be going over your observation skills. You need to be able to read a situation the moment you enter it and do so without the people around you even aware of it. That skill can easily save your life someday," Severus explained, "Then on Thursday we'll go over deceit, but I don't anticipate you having any issues with that."

"How very kind of you to say," Draco retorted, not sounding even a little insulted.

"Come to my quarters for dinner tonight," Severus said, "we'll discuss what happened earlier today with Potter because as much as I'd like to ignore it, neither of you will let it go." He could feel a headache coming on and wanted to get this day over with. When Draco nodded he added, "I have a meeting with the Headmaster to update him on your progress."

"And what will you be recommending?" He could hear Draco hold his breath in anticipation.

"That if you still want to go through with this, instead of going into hiding as I recommend, you will be ready."

It pained the professor to admit that. He never would have thought he'd be preparing to send a 16 year old into battle like this. Even when he had taken the dark mark himself a full two years older than Draco, he never imagined he'd end up risking his life as a spy. It was a difficult, thankless position that he risked his life for every time he stood before the Dark Lord. If someone had told him before he had the mark where he would end up, he probably would not have done it. His Slytherin self-preservation wouldn't have allowed it.

"Seriously Severus," Draco said leaning against the office wall, "How can Potter be The Chosen One if he can't use magic? Is he a squib now?"

He knew the question was coming and while he was determined to maintain as much of Harry's privacy on all his medical issues as he could, the lack of magic toed the line in what would be considered Order business. The Wizarding Savior can't very well save the wizarding world with no magic regardless of if Severus thought he should be the one to save it to begin with.

"We will discuss it tonight after dinner," Severus opened the door dismissing him. "Go get cleaned up."

Severus followed Draco out of his office and watched him walk back to his room while the professor continued on to Harry's bedroom. When he'd left after lunch, Harry was asleep in his room and he hadn't heard anything from the teen. He knocked and entered after hearing the soft, "come in" from inside.

Harry was sitting on his bed reading a book on defensive spells that Severus knew was not part of the Hogwarts curriculum.

"Doing a little light reading?" He asked sitting down at the bottom of the bed.

"Since I'm going to have to eventually not only face Voldemort, but actually win against him, I figured I should read all I can."

"From Miss. Granger no doubt?"

Harry smiled and nodded, "Yeah. When we started teaching the D.A. last year, she got this for me. It's really interesting."

"That's a highly recommended book on defense even if it's a bit above your level; it will definitely challenge you," he paused, "Are you still feeling ok tonight?"

"Not as well as this morning. I can tell when the pain medication is reaching the end and even after sleeping, I'm still completely exhausted. I just can't wait for this to be over and hope to Merlin himself I don't have to go through this again."

"Unfortunately, all we can do is wait and see," Severus said quietly, then carefully added the question he'd come in to discuss, "Do you want to stop the treatment?"

Harry immediately lifted his head from the book, worrying his bottom lip while taking a deep breath through his nose. Severus could feel the anxiety coat the room around them.

"No, I don't want to stop," Harry said not confidently but it was enough. "It's hard. So much harder than I ever expected it to be. But when I think that my other choices are not doing any treatments, which I'll still be in pain, and will definitely kill me or switching to potions where I may not feel so bad, but they have a high chance of killing me...

"I don't really have a choice if I don't want to die - which I don't - but in those worst moments, like yesterday... sometimes dying feels like the better option," Harry paused to collect his thoughts from his admission, "You're right though, I can't make a decision like that at my lowest point."

"It's good you can see that now," Severus said taking what he'd heard to heart and make a promise to check in with Harry more often, "we need to find some way to help you through those worst times because I'm sure we'll run into at least a couple more."

Observing how embarrassed Harry was, he added, "I'm... sorry for not telling you about Mr. Malfoy being in the castle."

Harry's face immediately closed up at the mention of his school nemesis. "Why's he here?"

Severus didn't answer immediately, "It's complicated."

"You can't trust him," Harry accused as Severus knew he would, but he also thought he sensed a touch of jealousy in the Gryffindor's voice.

"As the head of Slytherin, do you really think you need to tell me such a thing?"

Harry thought seriously about the question, then the teen smiled and said, "Could go either way."

"There are circumstances beyond my control, that brought him here," he was honest, "and I'm not, with good conscience, going to turn him away if he can provide any assistance to our cause."

Harry gave him a grim look.

"Let's go get some dinner. I've given in and ordered from the house elves tonight."

Harry grabbed his crutches and with Severus behind him navigating the stand, they made it to the kitchen. Severus noticed Harry was breathing harder than normal, so he helped the ill teenager over to the sink just in time before he could vomit onto the floor. Severus supported his weight all the way until the dry heaving was done, then helped Harry back to a chair, where the teen laid his head onto the table.

"I don't feel like eating," Harry mumbled into the table.

"Oh good, more for me," Draco said casually as he entered the kitchen. "Nice haircut Potter. It really brings out your scar; looks more like a scribbled N then a lightning bolt though."

"Don't," Severus said to Draco. Harry just gave the blonde a murderous glare. "Sit down and eat, I want to get this over with."

~~~~HP~~~~

The day had started out so promising. Most of it had been relatively pain free and while the nausea and vomiting were awful, it was the pain that made everything feel unbearable, so it was nice to get some pain free time to catch up on school work, do a little reading, and get some restful sleep. Then Malfoy had to show up. What the bloody hell did they think letting him get involved in anything related to the Order? It was clear as day he'd been planted by the Death Eaters to spy on them and now he's got access directly to Harry.

I'm the one with prophecy hanging over my head and they won't let me in the Order but they let Draco bloody Malfoy in?!

He had assumed when Snape managed to get Malfoy out earlier today, he'd get the hint that they should not be allowed in the same room. Apparently not though because only a minute after sicking up, in the kitchen sink of all places, Malfoy strutted into the kitchen like he owned the place. Harry questioned to himself if Draco had been in Snape's quarters before.

Harry went to stand up because the last place he wanted to be was sitting next to a Malfoy; the scenes from the Department of Mysteries came flashing across his eyes. However, the moment he grabbed for his crutches, Snape pulled them away.

"Stay sitting right there," the professor said clearly angry. "I don't want either of you to say a word to each other, understood?"

"Yes sir," Harry mumbled at the same time Malfoy spat out "Fine by me."

"Draco," Snape glared over at Malfoy, "you are to stay out of these quarters unless I give you explicit permission to enter and I am present."

"But-" Harry started before he was interrupted by Snape.

"His door will be warded against entering unless I am physically in the sitting room," he explained, giving Harry just a little more comfort with the situation. At least Malfoy couldn't ambush him now.

"I don't understand how I'm the one risking my life and yet getting treated like a common criminal," Malfoy spat back.

"What the hell is he talking about?" Harry questioned looking between Snape and Malfoy, fury burning inside him.

"You didn't hear?" the blonde taunted, "I'm your newest informant."

"Oh hell no-"

"ENOUGH!" Snape finally shouted his eyes shifting between both teenagers.

Harry was watching Malfoy as if he would leap over and attack him right in the middle of the kitchen. Instead, he was surprised to see the ferret go about eating his dinner of Shepherd's Pie as if nothing had just occurred. Taking the hint, Harry started to slowly eat his bowl of chicken soup. It was an awkwardly silent dinner; the tension could be cut with a knife.

When all three of them had finished dinner, Snape left the kitchen and returned with a glass of what looked like firewhiskey and then stared between the two teenagers clearly not sure how to handle them. Harry felt like a child about to get scolded.

"Draco," the professor finally said with his mask of calm in place, "as I mentioned yesterday, get used to always being treated like a potential traitor on both sides; it comes with the territory. If you can't handle it, get out now while you're still clean." Harry didn't miss Snape eyeing Malfoy's left arm. "Under no circumstances will you mock Mr. Potter's current ailments."

"Yes, sir."

"Harry," Snape didn't sound as disappointed as Harry had expected him to, "in times of war, you have to take calculated risks. Right now, not only are we in a time of war, but we're not exactly leading in it either. We cannot afford to turn away the opportunity Mr. Malfoy is offering to provide us. He will only be in the castle until the end of the week, you can survive for this short period of time."

"Understood, sir."

"Good, now that that's out of the way let's move on."

The rest of the evening was spent going over what happened at the Privet Drive attack, which Harry was finally happy to hear did not involve any deaths for the Order, however Mundungus Fletcher was seriously injured, and Draco's new role in the Order including what to expect when receiving the Dark Mark. Harry shivered at the details Snape provided from his own initiation, but didn't feel an ounce of sympathy towards Malfoy. When Healer Smithe stopped by to adjust Harry's medications, Harry could tell Snape wanted him to say something, but the Gryffindor refused. If Malfoy wanted to know what was going on, he could either ask Harry himself or do some research on his own. Harry would pay a whole lot of galleons to see Malfoy looking through muggle textbooks; extra if he asked Hermione for help!

By the time he should have been going off to bed, he was too wound up to sleep. With people coming in and out throughout the day and night, sleeping on and off whenever he was tired, and constantly staying in the dungeons, it was hard to keep normal sleeping cycles. He wondered how long it would take him to go back to normal once all this was done.

It was quarter to midnight when there was a light knock at his door and Snape walked in.

"I saw your light on," the professor said, taking a seat at the desk. "I figured you'd be exhausted after everything today."

"I slept a lot this afternoon, plus the morphine is wearing out and I'm not ready for more yet," Harry said only telling half the truth; the other half was because being so close to midnight, he wanted to wait up to see his 16th birthday. "Why should I trust Malfoy?"

"I never said you should."

Harry hadn't expected such a blunt, honest answer. He gave a half smile, "Definitely not what I expected."

Snape pulled out a deck of playing cards silently asking Harry if he wanted to play. Harry nodded; it wasn't like he was going to be sleeping anyway.

"What I said," Snape continued, "was that he's the best option we have right now. Trust me, Moody put him through a thorough interrogation and while I don't completely trust him, I do believe he won't do us intentional harm."

"Why?" Harry asked with more of an attitude than he probably should have had, "why the sudden change in him?"

"A person revealing his or her reason for defecting from the life they've grown up apart of is as personal as you revealing your own issues about your health. I cannot be the one to tell you; if you're that curious ask Mr. Malfoy yourself, but be prepared for him to want something from you in return."

Explained like that, Harry could almost understand. While he has never had issues distinguishing the moral from the immoral, he did have plenty of things he preferred not to tell anyone about himself.

"Does he know about your other memories? Where you came from?"

"No," Snape said, meeting Harry's eyes, "As of now only you and Albus know about that and I plan to keep it that way. While there is not much I can do hiding at Hogwarts, I can even less locked up in St. Mungo's."

Suddenly, the clock in the room rang that it was midnight. Harry looked over at it happy to be 16. While he would never be returning to the Dursleys, it felt good to know he only had one more year until he was finally an adult.

"Happy birthday Harry." The Gryffindor was beyond surprised that Snape of all people would know it was now his birthday. At Harry's confused look, Snape added, "I may be in a different reality, but I still remember spending 5 years with you, waiting up until midnight on the 31st of July."

"Thank you Severus," he said, genuinely grateful and equally amazed.

"You are welcome. Mrs. Weasley asked me if she could bring Ron and Hermione over tomorrow for your birthday. She wanted to have everyone, but I told her this was not the time for a gathering like that," he started to clean up their card game since neither one was paying any attention anymore, "but obviously that will depend on how you feel tomorrow. If you're not up for the company, we can always wait until closer to term."

Harry sat back into his bed. It would be nice to have his friends there for his birthday especially if he was feeling as well as he did today. His birthday was so often overshadowed, at best, or simply forgotten, at worst, while living at the Dursleys.

Deep in thought about Ron and Hermione, while trying to keep away thoughts of Malfoy, he hadn't noticed, at first, that Snape was handing him a conservatively wrapped gift. It was wrapped in royal blue paper and the size of a large book; he felt his face flush.

"Sir, you didn't have to get me anything," the Gryffindor said, taking the gift from his professor.

"It's not much; go ahead and open it."

Harry carefully started unwrapping to reveal a plain brown box. Inside the box was a high quality wand holster for his arm and a leather notebook with Harry J. Potter inscribed in the lower right corner. Harry was speechless; not only did he not expect a single thing from his professor, but these were gifts that clearly the man put a lot of thought into. He pulled the wand holster out, tracing his finger over the straps.

Understanding the unspoken question in the young wizard's eyes, Snape simply said, "I believe you'll still have plenty of magic when all of this is over."

"You can't know that," Harry said sadly.

~~~~AU SS~~~~

Harry had already been living with him for about a month and Severus was surprised at how quickly they'd fallen into a routine together. It now felt completely natural to be walking upstairs to check on Harry before he turned in for the night.

The renovations to his childhood home took up most of their first couple of weeks since Harry was adamant that if he was living here he wanted to help. With magic taking care of the most demanding parts and a bit of sweat equity on the rest, they had a respectable, if still small, home and managed to do a little bonding in the process. Severus learned that Harry liked the color blue, closely followed by green - but not Slytherin green - and that he genuinely liked to read. Harry learned that Severus naturally loved to cook because of how much it's like potions and he hated the taste of coconut. Against all odds, in those first few weeks Harry had started to trust and depend on Severus.

One night after dinner when the last of the painting had finally been completed, it felt natural to tell Harry about his friendship with Lily. He told Harry about when he first met Lily at the playground, not far from their current home, when they were nine and about how he introduced her to magic. Harry had told him that he wished someone would have done that when he had started doing accidental magic. Instead his first introduction to magic was the Dursley's severe punishments for it; for something that was normal and beyond any young wizard's control. Severus resisted the urge to comment on the young boy's statement, choosing to squeeze his hand into a tight fist hidden from view.

He told Harry all about his mother; how kind hearted she was, about her infectious laugh, and how intelligent she was. Harry asked about her favorite color - it was purple; what her favorite class was- definitely charms; and her favorite hobby - art; she had been an amazing artist. It was then that Harry told Severus he used to draw in primary school; that he was pretty good at it and he really enjoyed it. On the one hand, Harry was so much like Lily, it saddened the man to think about how he almost missed it, but at the same time he's got his own completely unique personality. If things had gone differently, he could have continued to see the carbon copy of James and would have missed the chance to get to know Harry - both as Lily's son and on his own. There were so many ways this could have ended differently.

It was about ten to midnight on the 30th of July and tomorrow was Harry's 12th birthday; the first one he'd be spending as Harry's guardian. Severus knew he likely never had a true birthday celebration based on what he'd learned about the Dursleys, but had no idea that the Dursleys never even acknowledged the day. Not sure about what Harry would want to do on his birthday, he'd planned a small gathering with the Weasley's and Hermione Granger for the afternoon.

Tonight though, he had just checked the wards after doing some reading and was now heading up to bed. Every night he checked in on Harry and he expected tonight to be no different, but when he reached the top of the stairs he saw the light still coming through the bottom of Harry's door.

"Harry?" He asked quietly while cracking the door open. Harry's room was small and still needed some of Harry's personalization, but the light blue walls were inviting, the bed was clean and comfortable, and the bookcase was full of books Harry picked out from the sitting room downstairs.

The small boy jumped in surprise. He was wearing a set of blue pyjamas Severus had gotten for him the first week they'd been back home. It had been an awkward shopping trip, but eventually he'd managed to get Harry clothes that not only fit him, but weren't falling apart with holes.

Harry was sitting up in his bed reading through one of his textbooks, "I'm sorry sir, did I keep you up?"

"Not at all," the professor said sitting down at the end of the bed, "I was just coming up and noticed you were still awake. Is everything ok?"

"Oh..." Harry's face flushed and when he looked over to his clock, Severus could guess what he was waiting for.

"Do you normally wait up for your birthday?"

Harry rewarded the Potions Master with a smile, "It's kind of my birthday tradition. The only one I have really. But if you need me to go to bed..."

Severus let out a small, uncharacteristic chuckle, "Staying up late one night over the summer hols is not going to kill you."

The clock from the downstairs rang midnight and Harry looked out his window as if he were making a birthday wish.

"Happy birthday Harry," Severus said and waved his wand summoning in a small box wrapped in green - but not Slytherin green - paper.

"You didn't need to get me anything sir," Harry said as Severus placed the package on his bed.

"Why would you think I wouldn't get you something?" Harry gave him a questioning look as if this were the strangest encounter they'd had yet. "And as I've said, you can call me Severus... at least when we're outside of school. Go ahead, open it."

Harry carefully tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a box. The Gryffindor smiled when he opened it and saw a notebook with "Harry J. Potter" in the upper right hand corner and set of art supplies.

"I love it," he called out, "Thank you Severus!"

"You are very welcome Harry," he said. "I have a feeling you have a hidden talent."