~~~~AU SS~~~~

"I'm never going to bloody get it," Harry complained as his head fell onto the kitchen table that was covered in his Potions textbooks and notes from the last five years.

"Watch your language," Severus reprimanded his 15-year old son sitting across from him.

They had been doing extra study sessions in their quarters between dinner and curfew to help him prepare to take his O.W.L.s. in only a fortnight. Sometimes, like tonight, it was just Harry, but occasionally Harry managed to convince the Potions Master to include his friends for the extra help too.

"You'll get there Harry," Severus told him. "You're thinking too hard about it."

"These are important, I won't be accepted into Auror training without the N.E.W.T. in Potions."

Severus laughed, "Believe it or not, I was actually aware of such a fact, as I do have to give the same career advice to my Slytherins."

Harry placed his quill down, apparently having decided to give up on the question he should have been answering, "Who wants to be an Auror from Slytherin?"

He should have seen that one coming, "It is none of your concern."

Exhaling deeply, Harry squinted his eyes, "You say that a lot you know... That it's none of your concern."

Severus pointed back to Harry's Potions book determined to help him understand the content, "That's because it's true. Move onto the next question."

And so the night went on, father and son going back and forth preparing for the test that would determine if Harry would get to move further towards his future goal to become an Auror; a career that Severus loathed. It's not that he didn't think Harry would do well; no, Severus knew he'd do extremely well as an Auror. Harry was a very powerful wizard with quick reflexes, already knew a large repertoire of spells he could filter through with a seconds notice, and the Occlumency skills he learned last year would set him apart from the sea of applicants. Severus didn't want him to join the Aurors because it was probably the most dangerous career he could have chosen and losing Harry was too much for him to even think about.

When Harry first mentioned the Aurors, Severus had tried to stay neutral but as time went on, he found himself at odds with Harry about it. Why did they think 15 years old was an appropriate time to pick a career? In all the times Severus had sat down with his fifth year Slytherins, how did that fact never cross his mind? And of course his son - the son he loved more than anything else - picked the single most dangerous career in the wizarding world.

"You should go back up to your tower," Severus finally said when it was not only almost curfew, but clear that Harry couldn't take much more studying tonight. "I promise I will help you finish tomorrow, maybe we can work on your practical instead, but you need to get some sleep."

Harry looked up at his Dad with his bright emerald green eyes that at first looked so much like Lily's, but now Severus could tell every speckle that made them unique to his Harry, "I was hoping I could stay here tonight. Sometimes it's just too loud in the tower... and I may have already told Ron and the guys that I would be."

"How very Slytherin of you," Severus responded. "Of course you can stay here, but don't stay up too late."

"Thanks Dad." Harry said while he gathered up his books knowing Severus did not like them left out all night even if he had every intention of picking back up with it first thing in the morning.

"Good night Harry," he said walking out of their kitchen and down the hallway to his bedroom.

~~~~SS~~~~

He chose to stay.

Those were the words Severus lived by for the next couple of days. He could not believe it, no matter how many times he'd said it back to himself. After the disastrous incident on Harry's birthday, given the choice he fully expected the young Gryffindor to leave their current arrangement in a heartbeat and not look back.

Unfortunately, he didn't have a lot of time to consider what that decision meant because his time for getting Draco thoroughly prepared was quickly coming to an end. With Harry having no chemo until the following Saturday, he doubled his time with Draco practicing occlumency, observation exercises, basic healing spells, deception, and all the potions he not only should be able to quickly identify, but should also keep in his robes at all times.

They went through what to expect at the initiation as well as when he's summoned going forward. Severus did not hold back on any details of the expectations of every Death Eater. In hindsight, if someone had sat him down and had gone through it in this much detail, he might have thought twice before joining. Instead, at the time all he saw was a chance to finally prove himself; to finally have some respect, control, and power. Those are all things that no 18 year old - or 16 in Draco's case - should have to think about. The fact that this supposedly superior wizard was recruiting children to serve him should have been a clue just how unstable he was even before he decided to spend all his energy targeting a baby based on a prophecy.

By Sunday night, there was nothing left he could do for Draco, but wait for him to return after the initiation as they had planned. After reliving his early Death Eater days with the blonde Slytherin, what he wanted to be doing was drinking or possibly taking a heavy dose of Dreamless Sleep and passing out for the rest of the night. Instead though, he was in the sitting room reading through Harry's rewritten essays trying to pass the time, when his dark mark started to burn again. He hissed in pain, covering his left forearm with his right hand and was instantly reminded that this week he needed to find some way to alleviate the pain now that he would no longer be answering the summons.

"Are you ok Severus?" Harry asked nervously sitting up on the sofa. "Do you need me to get you something?"

Severus shook his head while conjuring a bandage and charming it to stay cool. He wrapped his arm and then picked up Harry's Charms essay, but could not concentrate on a single word of it.

"Can I get you some tea maybe?" Harry asked casually, wanting to do something to help the man that had helped him so much this past month.

"And how, pray tell, do you expect to get the tea here?" Severus glared down at the cast still on his leg.

"Oh," Harry answered, sounding defeated. "Erm, I'm sure I can get it all here; it might just take some time."

"Let's go get some tea in the kitchen," the Potions Master said breathing through the pain; tea would at least distract him a little bit. "I'm clearly not going to get much else done here."

They silently walked over to the small kitchen. Harry sat down at the closest chair to the door, setting his crutches on the floor, while Severus busied himself making the tea.

"Do you think Malfoy can pull it off," Harry asked while the professor's back was turned away from him. A strategic move, Severus assumed.

"I think he has all the necessary skills," he answered neutrally. "Hopefully that will be sufficient."

"Is the Order going to be involved with tomorrow's initiation?"

It was a logical question to Severus and he was surprised with the Gryffindor's strategic thinking. With Draco now aligned with the Order it made sense to try to use that to their advantage as early as possible.

"Unfortunately no," he said sadly. "It's better for us in the long run to let the initiation happen, the sooner we have a person on the inside the better; short term loss, long term gain.

"The Dark Lord will be hypervigilant on making sure Draco is not tracked. Instead, we'll have extra protection at several high-profile muggle areas since Draco will need to prove himself worthy of the mark before getting it."

He could see the moment Harry understood what the former spy was saying. As expected, there were no follow up questions or comments regarding the initiation or Death Eater activities in general.

Once the tea was ready, Severus set it down on the table and Harry poured each of them a cup. Knowing Harry liked his tea with milk and sugar, he went back to grab both, but no matter how hard he searched he could not find the sugar.

"I need to call to the kitchens for sugar," he said, placing the milk down onto the table and stopping instantly. Sitting right in the front of him on the table was the small bowl of sugar that had most definitely not been there before.

I'm officially losing my mind.

"Never mind," he said sitting down. He really needed a good night's rest and hopefully both him and Harry would get caught up this week before chemo started again.

They drank their tea in a companionable silence as if this were something they did every night. There were so many times Severus wanted to ask why Harry chose to stay, but he couldn't bring himself to; it didn't really matter in the long run. While Minerva would absolutely be capable of taking care of Harry's medical needs, it was a logical choice for Harry to choose to stay here - therefore Harry was simply making the most logical decision for his well being. That's what Severus was telling himself as he was not one to give or want false hope.

"I'm still really tired sir," Harry finally said. "Are you going to be ok if I head to bed?"

Severus followed Harry's eyes to his dark mark, which luckily was starting to cool. The summons had not been aimed to torture the former spy, but likely a real summons to all his top followers. Rubbing his arm he couldn't help but think that nothing good could come of that tonight.

"Of course," Severus said, cleaning up their tea. "Do you need any help?"

Harry gave a small smile, "No, I think I'm ok."

"Very well," Snape said, casually adding, "Alton asked to stop by tomorrow morning to check on the progress in your leg."

Harry paused, "Is everything ok? He didn't say if there were any issues did he?"

I should have anticipated that.

The professor shook his head slightly, "He didn't say one way or the other. I just don't want you to be caught off guard tomorrow morning should he be here when you wake."

Nodding his head, he left the kitchen for his bedroom.

Now alone with his thoughts, Severus poured himself a glass of red wine; something to help settle his nervous anxiety. Thinking about Draco only brought back all the horrors from the past - the people he outright killed, those he could not save, that damned prophecy... Which always brought him back to Lily and finally to Harry. At this rate, if he could survive the next 24 hours with his sanity intact, it would be a miracle.

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry tossed and turned in his sleep that night. Sweat started beading across his forehead, his heartbeat increasing as each minute ticked by.

Images of Death Eaters shuffled quickly across his mind...

A dark mansion; a forest; Voldemort himself standing in front of his servants. The feeling of pure elation running through him while more than a dozen men and women bowed to the evil wizard.

His scar was burning fiercely and though the young wizard couldn't tell yet, blood was trickling down his forehead. His ears filled with the sound of his rushing blood as adrenaline flooded his body; a cold sweat now drenched his pyjamas all around his small body.

The forest quickly changed to a dungeon where he could almost taste the damp mildew coating the walls and then it quickly changed yet again - to a village with twinkling lights painted across the night's sky. Another quick shuffle of images and it settled on rolling hills and fertile meadows underneath a half-moon shining against the black sky. Beyond the meadow, he could see light in the windows of a tall building several stories high and so crooked it looked as though it were held up by magic with four or five chimneys perched on top of the roof. As they approached the entrance, a lopsided sign stuck in the ground read the Burrow.

Harry woke up panting, his green pyjama shirt clingy to his chest. Feeling his scar burning, he pressed the palm of his hand against it feeling the warm, wet blood squishing against his skin. He needed to get out of bed; he needed to get to the Weasley's. Without thinking, he quickly swung his feet across the side of the bed and attempted to stand only to be quickly reminded of the cast on his leg as he fell to the cold ground.

Groaning, he grabbed for his glasses up on the bedside table and his crutches next to the bed as quickly as he could, barely noticing his body shaking from head to toe. Where should he go? How could he get to the Burrow all the way from Hogwarts? He stopped as soon as he got to his bedroom door.

Wait, I've done this before.

Opening the door, he thought about just floo-ing to the Burrow, but what if this was another trap? He couldn't even do magic... Well, he wasn't supposed to do magic but if he needed to, he was sure he could manage.

Ultimately, he knew what he had to do. Turning to the right he continued down the hallway for the first time since moving into Snape's quarters; carefully approaching the closed door to Snape's bedroom. His heart was still beating furiously in his chest as he lifted his trembling hand and he knocked on the door where his sometimes overly angry professor was sleeping. Never in his life had he woken up an adult in the middle of the night like this, at least not that he remembered; surely when he was much younger he tried with the Dursleys, but learned that it was pointless.

Impatiently, he knocked again, much louder and at the same time called out, "Severus! Severus!"

He held his breath and just as he was getting ready to knock a third time - not daring to walk in unannounced for fear of his premature death - he heard movement from inside of the bedroom. The door swung open hastily and Snape stood in front of him, wearing a set of black long sleeved pyjamas and slippers. Seeing his young charge shaking in front of him, pyjamas coated in sweat he opened the door further, inviting Harry into his bedroom.

Harry was in such a daze, he hardly noticed the conservative bedroom around him as Snape helped him over to the large four poster bed in the middle of the far wall. The room was dimly lit with lanterns in each corner of the room and a small fireplace across from the bed giving enough light to see without blinding either of them. Snape's bedroom also had an enchanted window, but unlike his and the sitting room, it did not show the black lake but it was too dark outside to know what it showed. On the wall to the right of the door was a wardrobe and a little beyond that was the door leading presumably to the professor's lavatory.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Snape asked quickly, assessing him for injuries.

"It's the B-Burrow," Harry stuttered as a blanket was draped over his shoulders tightly. "You have to do something! He's there, right now!"

It felt like 5th year all over again in Umbridge's office. Why would Snape believe him this time? Not only did he not believe Harry last time, but the professor ended up being right and Sirius wasn't in any danger. This was different... It didn't feel like the visions of last year, but how could he explain that to Snape.

A warm wet towel was placed on his forehead lightly wiping and coming away with blood; it was the first time he noticed his scar bleeding heavily down his face. He remembered his healer mentioning something about his blood not working properly when he got injured, which would explain why Snape looked so worried over a little bleeding.

"Sir," Harry tried again when Snape had yet to respond, shivering when he tried to speak, "Voldemort's there, I saw it. He's going to kill them."

Snape looked straight into Harry's emerald eyes and he felt the familiar brush against his mind bringing him back again to fifth year and the horrible Occlumency lesson. Making a quick decision to trust the man this time, he took a deep breath allowing Snape to see what he could not explain. As quickly as it started, it was gone.

"I'll go call the Headmaster," the portions professor said, "and have him send as many people as he can to the Burrow. You stay right here, do not move."

Harry nodded almost too enthusiastically due to the shivering. Dumbledore would believe him; Dumbledore would definitely send help. With nothing else to keep his mind busy, his head fell into his hands and he started crying. Why do things like this keep happening to him?!

I can't lose the only other people who are like my family!

It felt like he was sitting in Snape's room for an eternity before he could hear voices and a loud crash coming from the sitting room. Shortly after, Snape walked back into the room with Dumbledore not far behind him. The headmaster's eyes were so full of pain and grief that Harry just knew it wasn't good news; that he'd been right this time.

"No," Harry managed to say, his voice cracking, "tell me they're ok."

"Harry," Dumbledore sat down on the bed besides the teen while Snape paced back and forth in front of the wardrobe across from them. "There was an attack at the Burrow tonight as you had eluded to. Thanks to your quick response in notifying Professor Snape, we were able to send help and greatly reduced the damage that could have been done."

Greatly reduced... Meaning there was damage.

"Are they ok?" Harry asked, not any more relieved than he was a couple of minutes ago.

"There were no deaths," Dumbledore explained quickly knowing Harry wouldn't hear a word until that was out of the way. "But the house has sustained a great amount of damage, so most of the family has been moved temporarily to Grimmauld Place."

Harry's stomach dropped instantly, "Most sir?"

"Young Miss. Weasley was injured and is now up in the hospital wing." Harry let out the breath he was holding, "It also appears that Charlie Weasley has gone missing. If you hadn't heard, he returned from Romania last month to aid the Order."

"Sir-," Harry was immediately interrupted by Dumbledore's raised hand.

"There are a lot of people, both from the Order and the Aurors out looking for him," Dumbledore explained quickly, but clearly that didn't help calm Harry's shaking nerves.

Harry felt the bed dip as Snape sat down on it next to him, which the Gryffindor was extremely grateful for because the pacing was making him nervous. He wanted to do something and yet there was not a single thing he could do besides sit there helpless while the people he cared about kept getting targeted because of him.

"Can I see Ginny?" He finally asked already knowing what the answer would be.

It was Snape who responded, "Tomorrow you can. Right now she's sleeping and that's what she needs to help her heal."

Harry nodded as if he were on autopilot. " Why... Why were they attacked?"

"We're not completely sure," Dumbledore said sadly, "there is a possibility the Death Eaters assumed you would be there after being removed from your relatives' care."

"Of course they did," he exclaimed; his stomach tied in knots.

"Here, take this," Snape held out his hand and a small tablet was sitting in his palm.

Harry peered skeptically, "What is that?"

"It will help you get back to sleep," he handed Harry a glass of water from the bedside table and watched Harry take the medicine. "Let's get you back to your room. There is nothing else we can do tonight."

"Thank you, sir, but I'll be fine. I don't need any help," the Gryffindor said standing up. "G'night professors."

He didn't turn around as he left the bedroom with every intention of eavesdropping from the hallway. However, once the door was closed all he heard was Snape say, "It cannot be a coincidence...," before complete silence. Someone had warded the door.

Sighing to himself, he walked back into his room feeling more tired than he expected he would. Eyeing the clock, it was still early, only 1:45am, so with any luck he could get some sleep before trying to sort through all the mess he managed to cause.

It was after nine o'clock in the morning when Harry woke up the next day. The memories of the previous night plagued him from the moment he opened his eyes. How much he wished to go back to... When would he go back? Not to before the summer; maybe before the Department of Mysteries? Of course, then he would still be dealing with Umbridge. When was the last time his life wasn't complicated by something or someone beyond his control? This was bound to be a difficult day.

Snape spent most of breakfast watching Harry with a keen eye thinking the young wizard couldn't tell. Luckily Healer Smithe arrived shortly after they finished breakfast which was a good distraction from his torn emotions. The healer did a standard diagnostic charm and then another directed at just his broken bone, which he could feel all the way into his leg. Both times he furrowed his brows in what looked like confusion.

"Just as I thought. Good news Harry," he started which lightened the teen a little bit, "your leg is healed. I thought I saw this when we ran the diagnostic spells the other day, but wanted to be completely sure before saying so. We can go ahead and remove the cast."

Snape stood up next to the sofa where Harry was being examined, a look of doubt plastered across his face.

"Are you sure?" the professor asked uneasiness in his voice.

"There's no doubt," he handed Snape a large piece of parchment that came from the targeted diagnostic charm.

"How is that possible sir? I didn't use any magic." Harry asked. He wasn't about to complain, but Snape's skepticism worried him a little bit.

"Probably some accidental magic is my guess," the healer said as he prepared to remove the cast.

Harry almost laughed, "Aren't I a little old for accidental magic?"

"Technically yes, but remember your magic is also trying desperately to heal you right now and we really can't control where it focuses that healing," the man explained nonchalantly.

Snape didn't look convinced. In the end, Harry really didn't care why it was healed, just that now he would be able to move around much more freely.

"Can I go visit Ginny?" Harry asked enthusiastically. "After the cast is off obviously."

"Yes," Snape said, "I'll take you up there. However, understand just because you can physically move better now does not mean you can wander about the castle."

Harry rolled his eyes. He'd heard it all before... His immune system.

The cast was finally off less than ten minutes later and between that and five more days until his next chemo, he was physically feeling great. Now if only he could make sure Ginny was ok and Charlie was found alive.

They arrived at the hospital wing by floo with Harry landing, as usual, ungracefully in Madam Pomfrey's office.

"And I thought your apparation was bad," Snape criticized the moment he fell from the floo. "Is there any form of magical travel you can do well?"

Harry swept off the soot from his clothing, "Obviously you've seen me on a broom, I think I do better than well on that."

"Of course," Snape almost chuckled, "the least used form of travel is the one you excel in."

"Could I floo in your reality?" He was becoming more curious lately about his other self, unsure when that had started.

"You certainly had more experience," the professor replied flatly. "I must warn you, Miss. Weasley is still very much recovering."

Harry could almost hear himself gulp. The way Dumbledore spoke last night, he assumed she hadn't been severely injured. Why hadn't he thought to ask?

"Yes sir."

Walking out of Madam Pomfrey's office and up to the only closed curtain, he could feel his heart beating as if it were trying to escape his chest and his head pounding. He almost stopped in his tracks, but Snape's hand on his shoulder kept him moving while keeping him in the present at the same time.

Opening the curtain, his legs completely gave out at the sight in front of him. Luckily, Snape was still holding onto his shoulders and helped him safely to the ground where he started crying, not caring how he looked in front of his professor. Mrs. Weasley was sitting in the chair on the far side of the bed holding Ginny's hand, but she let go and came over to Harry's side when she saw his reaction. Ginny was lying in the bed, more or less alive, with her head and left arm wrapped up tightly in blood smeared bandages; dark purple bruises were spread across her face and neck. She had a deep, dark red cut in the shape of a half circle that started from the outside of her left eye, came down her cheek, and back to stop by her jawline with the blood fresher than he would have expected for happening last night.

"What happened?" Harry said once he finally found his voice.

"She refused to leave," Mrs. Weasley said, tears falling from her eyes. "It was Bellatrix and she was hit with a curse we haven't been able to identify yet. Bill's doing all he can to figure it out and if anyone can, it will be him."

"I'm so sorry," Harry said, "they were looking for me."

"Oh Harry," she said in her motherly voice that was so calming to him, while she pulled him into a tight embrace, "we've stood up so many times against you-know-who, it was only a matter of time. This is not your fault, do you hear me?"

Of course he didn't believe her one bit; like Remus, Mrs. Weasley was too nice to say anything else to him. They managed to survive the first war without their home getting attacked. He knew they were looking for him and now Ginny was injured and Charlie was missing. No one needed to say it to his face, but it was obvious that Charlie was taken by the Death Eaters. Where else would he be, unless he was killed and hadn't been found yet? That would be so much worse he couldn't even consider it at the moment.

Snape conjured an additional chair for Harry and promised to return to help him back downstairs. He was given strict orders not to leave the hospital wing; as if he would have gone anywhere else.

"Where are the others? At headquarters?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded, "We'll be staying there for the foreseeable future. At least everyone else, Albus has offered me the chance to stay close to Ginny here as often as I'd like."

Harry didn't know how to respond since his instinct was to apologize again and he knew she would not have that.

"You're looking well," said the woman who was the closest he has ever had to a mother. "Your leg is healed already?"

"Yeah," Harry whispered, it seemed trivial now looking at Ginny laying in the bed between them, "something similar to accidental magic helped it. I'm not going to complain, that's for sure. Is there anything you need?"

"No dear," she said, "you just focus on keeping yourself healthy."

He had lunch with Mrs. Weasley next to Ginny's bedside, who didn't seem to notice either of them waiting for her to wake up. Sometime shortly after, Mrs. Weasley left with Mr. Weasley to see what could be salvaged from the Burrow. Harry was reading Ginny cards that arrived from her friends wishing she'd get well soon and then he talked to her as if she would respond back any minute. The young wizard hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep in the chair until Snape was shaking him awake. After promising Ginny to come back and visit each day, he left with Snape to floo back to the dungeons.

"I had a thought," Harry said the moment they made it back into Snape's quarters. "Why can't the Order simply follow Malfoy to Voldemort tonight? I'm sure he'll be going to wherever they're keeping Charlie."

"That's brilliant Potter," Snape said sarcastically; in a voice Harry hadn't heard from the man in several weeks, "I don't know why over a dozen fully trained, adult wizards didn't think of something like that."

"You don't need to be an arse over it y'know," he spat back. "If it was a bad idea, you just have to say so." Harry flopped down onto the sofa, "I want to do something. I hate sitting here helpless."

"I would like you to take this time to recognize that this is exactly how you ended up in all those situations where you almost died," Snape glared down at the Gryffindor then said very slowly. "This is not a situation you need to get involved in. Let the adults handle it."

"Fine, but since it's me he's after, you can't honestly think I can just forget about it like nothing's happening."

"That's not what I said," the professor replied as he pulled out a scroll of parchment and handed it to Harry. "This came for you today, if you need something to keep your mind busy this week."

Without another word, he left for the kitchen leaving Harry alone with what was quite obviously his O.W.L. marks. With everything going on this summer, the last thing he really wanted was to think about his classes, even if the headmaster and professors had some way to keep him from falling too far behind. Deciding he couldn't avoid it any further, he opened the parchment:

Ordinary Wizarding Level

Pass Grades

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

Harry James Potter has achieved:

Astronomy: A

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Charms: E

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O Divination: P

Herbology: E

History of Magic: D

Potions: E

Transfiguration: E

Reading through the result he should have been proud of himself and yet all he felt was deep regret. Seven O.W.L.s was a great accomplishment, especially considering everyone always assumed Hermione was the one doing his school work. In the end though he couldn't look beyond his Potions mark; written there clear as day - he was not going to become an Auror.

~~~~SS~~~~

They couldn't have one day where things went smoothly. Between the attack at the Burrow and Harry's leg mysteriously healing, Severus had more than enough going on. He did not even try to hide the fact that the attack on the Weasley's occurring right before Draco's initiation could not be a coincidence. Finding the second eldest Weasley child had quickly become a top priority for the day because who knew what would be left to find by tomorrow.

While Harry was visiting Ginny in the hospital wing, Severus spent most of the day with Albus at headquarters sorting through all the reports coming in from the search. No one had found even a trace of Charlie. Severus was tempted to show up at the last place he was summoned, but he knew it was futile; the Dark Lord would have vacated those headquarters the moment he had any knowledge of a traitor in his ranks. There was also the fact that no matter how good he was at watching his back, leaving Hogwarts at this time would be suicidal. The two things Severus Snape hated the most were being trapped and depending solely on others and yet that's exactly where he found himself. All he could do was sit and wait for everyone else to hopefully do their damn job correctly and in his experience that never ended well.

Walking towards Harry's room, he relished in how somehow this was the first time things felt somewhat normal to him. Yes, he was adjusting to his new reality and his new life, but his dominant memories were still those from a world that no longer existed. It was wearing him out trying to keep all the memories organized and now, something as simple as calling Harry for dinner was familiar and peaceful.

"Supper is ready," he said from the doorway of Harry's room. The teenager was laying across his bed on his stomach reading the extra defense book from Hermione.

Leaning against the doorframe he added, "You are not to go on any rescue attempts, do you understand?"

"Even I know I couldn't make it to the grounds without you finding out. Trust me, I know everything here is heavily warded," Harry marked his page with a piece of parchment and closed the book. "It's nice to read something that's not for an assignment. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy reading as long as it's a topic I'm interested in."

"I don't doubt that," Severus said a bit insulted, pulling out Harry's O.W.L. results he found on the sitting room table.

"Hey! You don't have a right to see those," Harry jumped up and snatched them back.

"Then you should not have left them out in the sitting room," he smirked. "Congratulations, though might I suggest you get started on your potions assignment. I imagine you'll be required to rewrite that essay several times."

Harry stood tall before the professor with a blank face. Satisfied that the message was heard, Severus turned and walked back to the kitchen.

"Wait!" Harry called to him as they entered the kitchen for supper.

"Sit," Severus commanded, not at all surprised when Harry didn't budge. "I am not answering any questions until after supper. Sit and eat."

A look of defiance crossed Harry's face, but in the end he did as Severus asked. Still unsure why the Gryffindor was so upset, they both ate in silence as he did not want to risk adding fuel to Harry's anger.

"Are you trying to mess with me?" Harry accused the moment he finished eating, the last piece of broccoli barely clearing his throat.

"Why would you think such a thing?"

"Would you really like me to go through five years' worth of reasons?"

"That will not be necessary. I was simply stating that you have yet to touch your Potions assignment, most likely due to the fact that you were unsure if you would secure the appropriate mark to continue. Though now, you have less than half the summer to complete it." He let the statement sink in then added, "While I will be reviewing your essays once they're completed, I will not be providing any assistance on them beforehand."

"I didn't make a high enough mark... sir," it pained Harry to admit that, "I only received an E and you require an O."

"Ah. Yes, I only take the best students into my NEWT course, but I am not teaching potions next year," he held out another piece of parchment to Harry. He watched as his student read through the other page of parchment that came with his results then said, "Apparently you failed to finish reading the letter outlining not only what NEWT classes you will be able to take, but also your individualized schedule that was finally approved by the Board of Governors."

"I didn't see this," Harry mumbled reading silently to himself. "You're teaching defense this year?! I thought Dumbledore refused to let you teach it?"

"Professor Dumbledore's past reasons are between the two of us, however I've informed him that I will not be able to maintain my Potions position this year and this was the arrangement he decided upon. The new Potions professor accepts students with Exceeds Expectations into his NEWT level class... Hence why you need to start on your summer assignment."

Once Severus saw how difficult chemo was on Harry and that it would likely last throughout the school year, he met with the headmaster to discuss his course load. In Potions one needed complete focus, which was why he only accepted O.W.L. marks of O and realistically he couldn't commit to that this year. He offered Albus his resignation from his teaching post and formally requested to pay room board to continue to live in the castle close to Harry. Albus laughed and offered him the defense position instead; something that would provide a bit more flexibility.

"Is this why my results were late?"

"Yes," Severus responded, "Professor McGonagall spent a great deal of time going over the details at the ministry to make sure you will not fall behind."

Harry stared at the parchment for a while longer. When he finally lifted his head, relief could be seen across his face and he simply said, "Thank you Severus."

"You are welcome," he said sincerely, "I suggest you get started on as much as you can before Saturday."

Harry stood up nervously rubbing his hands together, "I will, but sir; one more question."

Severus waved his hand for Harry to continue.

"Do you know when Malfoy's meeting is tonight?"

"Not a clue," Severus said honestly, "Mr. Malfoy won't even know until a Death Eater shows up at his door. I've requested he come here afterwards; it would probably be best if you hear any commotion, to stay put in your bedroom."

"Yes, sir."

The Potions Master spent most of the night in his laboratory working on yet another formulation to try to ease the pain of his dark mark. Without the mark actively burning, he was able make progress on transferring several elements of a pain potion into the burn salve without causing any major explosions. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to test the first attempt of the salve until a summons or the Dark Lord just felt like torturing him; the latter seeming like the more probable event.

It was approaching one in the morning when the buzz from his wards told him someone was trying to enter his quarters. Naturally, Draco would have floo'ed to the rooms he was utilizing last week, but now could not enter as Severus was not physically in the sitting room.

The moment he stepped foot from his office, the door leading to Draco's rooms swung open. The blonde Slytherin was wearing the customary all black robes that were severely wrinkled down the front and appeared damp along the bottom half. In his right hand was the mask Severus would be happy to never see again and there was the telltale tremor in both hands giving away that he was subjected to the Cruciatus curse at least once. Draco's normally well kept hair was disheveled with bits of leaves scattered throughout as if he had run through the forbidden forest to get to the castle - or more likely from falling onto the forest floor from the Cruciatus curse - but the biggest difference in the young man standing before him were his eyes. The normally grey audacious eyes were now swollen, red rimmed, defeated eyes.

Against his better judgement, Severus conjured two glasses and summoned his bottle of firewhiskey. He poured the glasses and called Draco into the sitting room where they sat facing across from each other. He handed the newest Death Eater one glass and watched Draco take it with trembling hands.

"I did it."

There was no further explanation needed. Draco took a large sip of his firewhiskey barely cringing as the warm liquid passed down his throat into his stomach.

"Who was it?" Severus asked knowing that while there would be many faceless, nameless muggles tortured or killed, one never forgot his first.

"It was Weasel's brother... The one they captured last night... Charlie."