~~~~HP~~~~

Harry woke up Wednesday morning feeling his head pounding with each beat of his heart and his chest feeling like a hippogriff was sitting on it; obviously yesterday had taken far more out of him than normal. He was cold down into his core and was shivering almost uncontrollably, so he grabbed his blanket - which he hadn't noticed was warmer than usual - to take with him into the kitchen. Almost instantly, his shivering ceased.

The enchanted window showed it was bright and sunny outside and again Harry questioned when the next time he'd be able to go out and get some fresh air. Maybe he could convince Snape to take him out for just a couple of minutes this morning since neither of them had classes; he could hide under his invisibility cloak so no one would know he was even there. Realistically, Harry knew there was zero chance of that happening, but he still thought one day he should get the courage to at least ask. Snape decided last night that he needed today to rest, so he had preemptively cancelled Harry's transfiguration and charms lessons with Hermione; two less things for him to try to focus on today. The last thing Harry wanted was to be alone, so he was hoping Hermione would still show up to at least spend some time with him, maybe even Ron could come too.

"G'Morning Severus," Harry quietly greeted as he slowly walked into the kitchen. Sitting down carefully at the table, he rested his head on top of his arms like a pillow. Even after sleeping most of the day yesterday he was completely exhausted this morning.

"I'd like you to spend today in bed," the professor stated in a matter of fact tone as he casually ate his own breakfast, keeping a keen eye on the young wizard. "You need to rest after everything yesterday. I also do not think you should attempt school lessons on your chemotherapy days going forward, these last two days were too much for you."

Harry wanted to mention that skipping one day to recover from the two days of lessons still gave him one extra day to try not to fall behind, but in the end he simply glared at Snape not ready for a lecture feeling how he did that morning. The professor didn't comment on the look, just placed the Gryffindor's morning medications down next to his bowl of porridge.

"Can Hermione still come over even if it's not for lessons?" Harry tried not to sound too hopeful, but with his pounding head he couldn't really tell how he sounded.

Snape peered over the table at Harry narrowing his eyes in thought, "As long as whatever you do constitutes as rest. I'm serious Harry, your body needs time to replenish its strength before Saturday."

"Oh," Harry half smiled, half smirked, "In that case, I'll have to let her know to cancel the triathlon then. I thought I'd feel jubilant today."

Harry could tell Snape wanted to laugh, but was trying to be his normal stoic self at the same time. It still amazed the Gryffindor, more often than not, that he could be so casual with the professor he hated only a little more than three months ago. Except, that wasn't exactly true; he wasn't the same man. It was as if the old Severus Snape, Potions Master, just stopped existing and this new Severus Snape took his place. Harry could handle this one; in fact he kind of liked and respected the man.

"I spoke to Alton last night," the professor continued choosing to ignore Harry's awful attempt at a joke, "he would like to test the level of your magic before your next round of chemotherapy. If it is no different to you, I suggested Friday. You'll likely have weekly tests going forward." Until your magic is gone was left unsaid between them.

Harry dropped his spoon in both surprise and frustration while silently thanking Snape for being here to do things like talk to his healer on his behalf, it would be overwhelming to be doing this literally all alone.

"I figured that was coming; with the whole... magical core thing," Harry started, unable to look Snape in the eyes for fear he would do something like cry. "I don't know if I want it to just hurry up and deplete so I only have the normal pain or slow down in hopes that I can keep some magic, even though it will make the next several years unbearable."

"The best thing you can do," Snape said insightfully, "is to try not to think too hard about it either way. Whatever happens will happen and unfortunately, there is not much else you can do to prevent it."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek refraining from mentioning that it was ironic to hear this sentiment from the man who took a random potion to try to time travel back to change something that happened in his old reality. Overall it worked out, Harry was still alive and hopefully would make it through this time, but the irony of the situation was not lost on the Gryffindor boy.

"Fine," Harry settled on, not sure his opinion mattered in the long run anyway. "Just let me know when and where. If nothing else, it will feel good to use my wand again."

There... That was my positive thinking for the day.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright Harry?" Hermione asked for what felt the hundredth time noticing Harry looking more worn out than usual. Hermione reached out her hand to him, as if to feel Harry's head for a fever, but the young wizard swatted her hand away before she could touch him. "You're just not looking so well today."

Since Harry wasn't having formal class lessons, Hermione stopped by only during her afternoon session as Snape had taken the morning off classes and was here with him. Harry had spent the day in his room, as requested, sleeping on and off until Hermione showed up. Still exhausted, but not wanting to sleep anymore, he was now in the sitting room attempting to sketch while Hermione studied and finished up her homework.

"I'm fine Hermione," the Gryffindor boy said a little grumpy, "just tired after yesterday and tired of people asking me if I'm ok."

"I should go then, so you can rest," she sounded sad and started to pack up her school books, frustrating Harry that everyone thought he was too fragile to be around. Did they not think that he could feel a little tired, but at the same time still want to be around other people?

" 'Mione, I don't think I could rest anymore than I already am. It's fine... I'm fine," Harry tried to reassure her, but in the back of his mind he felt something was off.

"I doubt that," his friend said as she laid out all of her work yet again and they fell into a companionable silence.

Only about ten minutes into their work, Harry tapped his notebook impatiently with the muggle pencil as he contemplated if he should ask the question he'd been avoiding since she walked into the room. Malfoy had mentioned yesterday that he had borrowed a book from Hermione and it had been nagging at the back of his mind since. Did the snake really ask Hermione - of all people - for help? Why would he care that much to do something so bold for him?

"Malfoy was here yesterday," Harry said, testing the waters to see if she'd pick up on his thoughts, all the while continuing his sketch as if nothing had changed.

"Of course he was Harry," the young witch said without even lifting her head from the book, "you had potions and defense yesterday."

Clenching his teeth, thinking again he decided just to go for it, "He told me about the book you lent him."

That got her attention immediately and Hermione looked at him without moving her head up. She just slowly lifted her eyes to meet his, daring him to continue; a move he commonly saw from Snape.

"So..." She started sounding a bit embarrassed, "he saw me reading through a muggle medical book in the library and asked if it had anything to do with you. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to make the connection."

Harry sat up feeling his insides protest in the process. He'd always felt at least a little better the day after chemo and subconsciously wondered why today was so different.

"I highly doubt he'll be able to find anything in it anyway," Hermione started talking extremely fast thinking Harry was angry with her about it, "it's full of muggle medical terminology like hematology, oncology, anesthesia, cardiology... he wouldn't even know where to start."

"Calm down 'Mione, it's fine," Harry placed his hand on her's to comfort her. He gave a small chuckle to show how little it bothered him. "He's going to find out at some point, I just wish I could have seen him ask you about it. I can only imagine the face he made."

"It was quite funny." Hermione gave a small giggle and Harry felt at ease again. "If Madam Pince wasn't around the corner, I think Ron might have had a fit over it. But what was I supposed to do? He didn't say anything rude or mean, just asked if he could borrow the book. Like I said, I doubt he'll find anything."

But Harry knew he would eventually find it because he had told Malfoy about the Leukemia. He knew Malfoy was smart enough to start there and work his way backwards; now it was only a matter of time before he told everyone in the school. Maybe if he was lucky enough, they would all know about it and be over it well before he started classes again at Halloween time.

~~~~SS~~~~

After returning from his afternoon classes, Severus noticed immediately that Harry had been quiet most of the day. His attention was brought back to the conversation he had with Alton yesterday about Harry's mental health. He may have been reading more into the situation than he normally would have had it not been for that conversation, but Harry seemed more withdrawn today than after any other chemotherapy day. He had hoped giving Harry the day to rest would eventually help him heal and he would be on the mend, but at supper tonight the Gryffindor hardly touched his plate or said a word to the professor. He had promptly gone back to his room and based on the three times Severus had checked in on him, he had been sleeping since.

Now that he had with the information on the potential - but highly probable - Horcrux within Harry, Severus spent his night back in his office with the sphere and a glass of firewhiskey going through as many books as he could on cancer, wizarding magical cores, and Horcruxes; the latter of which he could only find referenced in Secrets of the Darkest Arts that he showed Albus yesterday. Until he knew more about if, and how, all of this was connected he didn't want to tell Harry that they thought he had a piece of Voldemort's soul living within his own.

That would, without a doubt, push him over the edge.

There was also the matter of killing the Horcrux to consider. After all, no matter how much it angered Severus to admit it, this had implications to the entire wizarding world if they were correct; meaning Voldemort could come back as he had after the first war should the Horcrux be left alive. No matter how many times he read through the book, all he was able to discern about killing a Horcrux was that the object containing the fragment of the soul had to be damaged beyond magical repair. In this case, that container would mean Harry.

Pacing his office he tried to find some way he could do it, but he could not manage to think of one way to damage Harry - he cringed at that thought - beyond magical repair without killing the young wizard. Downing the glass of firewhiskey, he abruptly ran his arm across the desk top; watching as all of his work went crashing to the floor. He pulled out the chair and forcibly sat himself down behind his desk cradling his head in his hands, trying to hold back the frustration and tears. No matter how hard he tried, his Occlumency was not helping to keep the panic at bay. Suddenly, if at all possible, this whole situation just got messier and far more urgent. If he was right, it was simple and yet something he could not fathom to consider -

If the cancer doesn't kill Harry, someone else will have to in order for the Dark Lord to finally be killed.

He poured himself another glass of firewhiskey, quickly drinking it down to feel the warm liquid fill him up inside - but doing almost nothing to calm his anxious brain - when unexpectedly a piece of parchment appeared on his desk that read Minerva McGonagall. He really didn't want company tonight. Rubbing his forehead to try to ease the headache forming, he walked slowly out of his office and opened the door to admit his colleague.

"Good evening Severus," she said walking into the defense professor's quarters as if she visited all of the time, which almost seemed true at this point.

"Out for a stroll are you?" Severus asked sarcastically. "It's quite late for you to be randomly wandering in my part of the castle."

"Oh settle yourself down," Minerva said with a huff, "I covered two of your classes - a fourth year yesterday along with a first year this morning - and wanted to get these to you," she handed him a stack of rolled up essays; more marking that he probably wouldn't get to. Severus raised one eyebrow in response.

"How very thoughtful of you. Alternatively, you could have saved yourself the trip down here and simply left them at my desk," he replied, taking the stack waving her into the kitchen. "Since you are here, would you like some tea? Or perhaps something a little stronger?"

The older professor's eyes lit up as if she hadn't been expecting him to offer that exact thing, but Severus knew better; Minerva had a bit of Slytherin in her even if she'd never admit to it, "Tea would be lovely, thank you."

The two professors walked into the kitchen where Severus started preparing tea the muggle way; his typical stalling technique.

"Old habits die hard," he commented at Minerva's odd look to him preparing their tea.

"I wasn't going to say a thing, but since you brought it up... sometimes I forget you grew up in a muggle household," she had a twinkle in her eyes that he rarely saw on her normally stern face, giving Severus the impression she was thinking of Lily Evans and not Tobias Snape. The defense professor shook his head to clear that last thought from his overcrowded brain.

"Yes, well occasionally I'd like to forget that too," it was a bitter statement and something he should not have said, but it matched his current mood so he went with it.

Once the tea was made and poured, the dour professor spat, "Just get on with it; whatever it is you are here for."

"Believe it or not, I wanted to check in on how you're doing," she took a long sip of her tea to give him some time to process what she had said. "This has been a rough start to the year and not likely to get much easier."

No matter how many different ways Severus interpreted her statement, it all came out the same way... Complicated and his colleague didn't even know half of the things he was working through. If he were being honest, this was not at all how he envisioned things would be after taking the potion in his old reality. Never did he think that he'd be dealing with a Horcrux within Harry on top of everything else he had going on. It was true he got Harry back, but for how long? By coming back, had he damned himself into having to make the decision on if Harry should live? And here he had the Dark Lord to keep track of and Draco's involvement with the war, it was definitely a lot more than he ever expected. All he wanted was his son back; how did everything else get so messed up over something that seemed so straight forward?

"Perhaps teaching a new subject was a bit overenthusiastic to take on this year," Severus admitted, however he knew Potions would not have been any easier at the moment. What he needed was to get away; to take Harry, summon the Knight Bus and go into hiding. Harry would never do that though and neither could Severus; Harry needed the chemotherapy.

Minerva placed her tea cup down and looked over at the dark haired professor, not at all believing what he was implying. Clearly she was fishing for something more. As if he didn't already give every bit of himself to others.

"What else do you want from me?" He asked, getting angry, more with himself than Minerva, but he wasn't in his right mind to recognize this fact.

What did she want from him? Did she want to hear he was feeling overwhelmed and exhausted? That he felt like he was failing in the one job he had left to do in this world? That he was starting to regret the life he literally chose to be in? That if he could, he would give up every breath he had as long as Harry could live a long life?

"Do you want to hear that I have no idea what I'm doing here?" Once he started questioning himself he couldn't stop. It was like all of this had been building since waking up in this reality only 12 weeks ago. All of his self doubt needed to come out and he couldn't control it anymore. "This isn't how it was supposed to go, dammit! I woke up expecting to be back in time - like a stronger version of that blasted time turner you provided a 13-year old to use - but instead I ended up here. I was supposed to go to a time where I could convince my son to choose the path that would ultimately save his life, but now not only do I not really have my son, his life is in even more danger than before! I'm fighting a battle I cannot win. And yet I have to find a way to fix it... but I don't have the answers! No matter where I look, it's all the same and I can't do a single thing to change it."

At this point, Severus was standing, leaning over the table with his fists supporting his weight - his chair having crashed to the ground behind him - hanging his head contemplating his next move. When he spoke again, it was strained as he tried to keep himself, unsuccessfully, under control.

"I have Harry, Draco, and my entire house of students - whom I feel like I've barely seen - looking to me for answers and I don't have a damn clue on any of it. And I've already missed how many classes? That I'm sure any day now, Albus is going to walk in here and fire me as he should have done every. single. year!"

The transfiguration professor was shocked. She's never seen the man in front of her lose control before, or show any real emotion or weakness. He had always held up this wall to keep not only everyone else out, but himself safely in. It wasn't healthy for anyone to live life so closed up to the outside world, especially dealing with everything Severus was and she suspected his walls were now crumbling from the pressure. She couldn't help feeling guilty; she'd made a promise to herself to be here for both Severus and Harry, but had she held up her end of that promise?

"Be honest with me Severus," Minerva commanded trying to take some control over the situation, "have you been sleeping at all?"

"What do you think?!" He spat at her slamming his fist into the table top, "Of course I haven't!"

He paused and then suddenly threw his tea cup, shattering it against the far wall of the kitchen, not caring one bit that the tea was now puddling onto the floor. He was too angry with himself to think about anything else, too wrapped up in his thoughts to consider the person across from him, and too distracted to notice the fear in her eyes, "If I'm not in class, I'm either trying to find a way to stop the literal burning reminder of the biggest mistake of my life - a mistake that in both worlds killed the only woman I've ever loved, but at the same time also gave me the best person in my life - Or I'm working with Draco to make sure he doesn't get himself killed for the supposed greater good, or most likely I'm trying to find every damn piece of information ever written on magical cores and muggle diseases to see if I can find some way - any way - to help ease my son's pain, and then... and then... only to find out he's still probably going to die anyways!"

He was panting when he finished his rant and for a split second he felt better. For that split second his chest felt lighter than it had in a long time. Saying, or yelling, all of that out loud was exactly what he needed. The cathartic release of his deepest fears and worries now lifted off of him and he could almost think clearer than he had since before the Privet Drive attack-

But then he heard it and his heart and stomach sank to his feet... A rough, wet cough from the doorway behind him, followed closely by another. Instantly he looked up from the table directly into Minerva's sympathetic eyes and he knew. Severus closed his own and took a deep, calming breath, before turning around to confirm that he was right. Standing in the doorway leading into the kitchen was Harry, dressed in a pair of wrinkled blue flannel pyjamas as if he'd just been woken up - likely from Severus's yelling - and not even attempting to hide the hurt in his bright, glassy emerald eyes.

"Harry," he said standing up and walking towards the small teen who quickly took a step backwards. Harry's face was paler than normal and the professor couldn't tell if that was due to how he was physically feeling or because of the confession he had heard.

At first both of the professors expected the Gryffindor to turn and run towards his room, so they were surprised when in a raspy, quiet, sad voice he said, "It's good to know you think none of this is going to work; that I'm just going to die in the end."

"Oh, Harry no," Minerva called out but it was too late; Harry had turned around and walked - calmer than Severus would have expected from him to - back into his room slamming the door behind him.

"I swear to you, that was said out of context," Severus finally confessed. When it became evident Harry wasn't coming back out, he added, "I'll go check on him."

"No," Minerva patted his shoulder as she passed by him, "if it's ok with you, I'd like to try to talk to him first."

The younger professor nodded, sitting back down at the table hanging his head down rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

What did I do? How could I be so stupid?

It was true that he'd made his fair share of mistakes with Harry - in both realities - but this had to be the worst. Nothing could, or would, ever top telling Harry he thought he would die regardless of what they're doing; that all of his suffering would be for nothing. In that moment Severus vowed that even if Harry never spoke to him again, he would find a way to kill the Horcrux without harming the young wizard. He'd make a way if nothing existed.

"I'm afraid he's locked his door," Minerva declared as she shuffled back into the kitchen in a huff, "I even tried from the lavatory, which by the way does not even lock from his bedroom's side."

"I know," the defense professor said almost too serenely. After Harry's burning pain yesterday, he had expected the Gryffindor's unintentional magic to be at its strongest point today. No matter what Alton thought, he was not making it up or exaggerating Harry's magic use.

"What do you mean, you know?" Minerva was sounding panicked, something that would have been frightening if he was still her pupil.

"He's been doing magic unintentionally and it's usually strongest on the day after he has the burning pain like yesterday," he could tell she wasn't following him. "He probably placed a silencing ward up too."

Could this really get any worse?

"And you did not think to mention this to Albus?" While it was an accusation, Minerva was genuinely curious about why he would hold back such information from them and what other information was he still withholding?

"You should go," Severus said defeated, completely ignoring her question and stopping her protests before she could even start. He stood and pulled out his wand to clean up the shattered teacup and spilled tea. "Could you please let Albus know I may not be in at least my first class tomorrow? I don't think I should leave him alone under these circumstances."

"Don't worry about Severus," the elderly witch said when she realized what he was implying, "my first class tomorrow is reviewing for a quiz they don't know they're getting on Friday. I can find someone to cover for it much easier than you could."

"Thank you Minerva," he simply said knowing he didn't deserve her kindness; especially after everything tonight.

Once Minerva quietly, but reluctantly, left to go back to her quarters - using the floo this time - Severus finished tidying the kitchen and sitting room. He considered going back to his office to work, but Minerva's concern weighed heavily on his mind.

(Have you been sleeping at all?)

Technically yes, he had been sleeping, though admittedly it was far less now that term had resumed. However, that was no excuse for how he acted both towards his colleague and Harry. He decided to walk away from his office and simply head to bed at the respectable hour of eleven o'clock.

It was worth a try to see if Harry's door would open, but as expected it was warded shut. Harry had been sleeping most of the day, so it was hard to tell if the silence was due to him sleeping or a silencing charm. Either way, he had to make sure Harry was safe before he could go to bed, so he did the one thing he'd been trying to avoid.

"Dobby!" He called for the annoying little house elf he knew was completely loyal to Harry.

Instantly the small elf popped up wearing a set of mismatched socks and a cap.

"Mister Snape has called for Dobby sir?" He was wringing his hands tightly, nervous to be around the dark professor who never called for any of the house elves.

"Dobby," Severus said softly, "I need you to check on Harry for me. He's in this room and the door is warded shut. He should be sleeping, but I'd like to be sure."

Dobby put his large ear against the door as if he'd be able to hear if Harry was indeed sleeping.

"Dobby knows Mister Snape takes good care of Harry Potter sir," the small elf rambled, "Dobby will go check that Harry Potter is sleeping sir."

And with a small pop, the house elf disappeared. Realistically he was gone less than a minute, but to the professor it felt like hours before he heard the pop again.

"He is sleeping sir," Dobby said excitedly as if he were beyond thrilled to have done this one simple, but important, job.

"Thank you Dobby," Severus said, releasing the breath he was holding. "That is all."

Severus had doubted he would be able to sleep that night, however the exhaustion from the day combined with his explosive reaction tonight had eventually caught up to him and he found himself asleep - restlessly, but asleep - when an unfamiliar sound from the sphere woke him up. Usually, the sphere would buzz and glow, alerting him to whatever Harry needed. Now he had just been woken up from an audible alarm coming from the sphere beside his bed. As this was not originally how the sphere was supposed to function, he was briefly confused why he was getting woken up at half past three in the morning.

Once he realized it was Harry, he pulled himself out of bed quickly - not even pausing to put anything on his bare feet - and made his way to the Gryffindor's bedroom. He was surprised to find the door now able to be opened freely and he held his breath in anticipation of what he would find when entering the bedroom.

What he didn't expect to see was a quiet room, illuminated only by the sphere on the bedside table glowing a bright red, with Harry still asleep in his bed. Severus furrowed his brows in confusion as he moved into the room silently, so he didn't wake the sleeping teenager, and approached the bedside table. The sphere was on the far end, out of Harry's immediate reach. It certainly was not the best location for it, however seeing as Harry typically did not need to use it this long after chemotherapy, it did not draw any concern from Severus. For all he knew, this was where Harry always kept it on non-chemotherapy nights; he had never paid that close of attention to its location previously.

Severus picked up the sphere, which was so hot to the touch he immediately dropped it and clutched his burnt fingers as he watched his only light source roll towards the bed. Naturally, he assumed it was malfunctioning because again the sphere was not charmed to emit any heat. Redoing the charms on it would be easy enough to do and he made the quick decision that it could wait until the morning since it was not likely Harry would need the sphere within the next 4 hours.

Severus ran his hand over his face contemplating if it was even worthwhile to try to go back to sleep and had just turned around to walk away when he heard it again... that same rough, wet cough from the earlier tonight in the kitchen. This time though, when he turned back towards the bed Harry was still asleep. He knew he wouldn't be wrong - but that didn't stop him from hoping he was - when he reached over the bed and lightly touched Harry's forehead which he could now see was covered in a layer of sweat. Harry had a fever; a high one by the feel of it. Summoning his wand, he quickly ran a diagnostic spell, which showed his temperature at 39.4C.

"Dammit!" He cursed loudly bending down to shake Harry awake. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried, the Gryffindor simply moaned, but stayed unconscious. Drawing his wand for the second time, he sent an emergency patronus message to Madam Pomfrey requesting her help in his quarters and to contact Alton.

While he waited, the professor did the only thing he could think of, he summoned his set of potions that he knew he could not give yet and a cool wet flannel that he draped over Harry's forehead.

"Severus," he lifted his head when he heard Poppy call from the doorway. "Healer Smithe should be here soon. What happened?"

"He has a fever and a cough," he replied bleakly. "He had it earlier, but I wasn't paying enough attention at the time and now he won't wake up."

If he hadn't been ranting, he would have been clear headed when he heard the cough. Thinking back now, it was so clear that it wasn't an interruption cough, but a sick cough and after Harry had been sleeping all day, it should have been a clear sign he was ill.

"Unfortunately it's that time of year with back to school colds. I've given out over two dozen pepper-ups already," the medi-witch said while running a wide range of diagnostic scans when Healer Smithe walked in followed shortly by Minerva, in a modest dressing gown, and Albus who appeared as if he had not been asleep at all that night.

Alton, who barely greeted them, went straight to work alongside Poppy taking blood samples, running diagnostic charms, and adding IV lines to provide medicine and other fluids that would hopefully help his child. He stood back and was reminded of the events after the Privet Drive attack; somehow he was more scared now than he had been back then. Eventually Minerva conjured several chairs for them knowing it was not only going to be a long night, but that there was no way the professor was leaving that room. After what felt like hours, no matter what they did or what they tried, Harry was still unconscious.

"Severus," Poppy called expectantly, "can we use magic?"

"Yes," he said without any hesitation, "do whatever you need to do, magic be damned, just keep him alive."

That seemed to give the medi-witch an extra boost as she waved her wand over Harry several times. Unfortunately, Harry still stayed unconscious. Albus joined the two healers at his bedside discussing something the frantic defense professor could not hear.

"Severus," Minerva called out to him, pulling at his elbow, when she could see the severity of the situation, "let's go and give them some room to work."

He wouldn't be able to tell anyone how he'd managed it, but somehow he was in the sitting room with Minerva in the chair across from him. So much had happened since the day he first stepped foot in this reality's sitting room; without the furniture he remembered seeing his Harry on, without the pictures surrounding him of the life they had lived together, without the adoption certificate as a reminder that good things can come from ashes of the bad, and without the last letter from Harry that he had read everyday Harry had been gone.

Here he didn't have anything besides his memories of that old life, however now when he looked around he could see the room in a new light. There was the new sofa that this Harry had taken up as his own, there was the defense book on the table that his old Harry had no reason to read, the homework scattered reminding Severus why he was here to begin with - that Harry could not go to classes. The professor cradled his head in his hands yet again. No matter what he thought earlier, he did not regret coming here. How could he when he's gotten to know a whole different Harry - not a better Harry, nor a worse Harry - just a different version of him; one he loved just as much.

And now he is...

"I should have known," Severus eventually said to the only other person who would come close to understanding; she was there tonight, "I heard that cough and didn't think twice, even after Alton said his blood counts were low yesterday. I should have known."

"Don't go down that path," the elderly witch lectured her colleague reminiscent of a conversation he'd had with Harry. "There was a lot going on tonight when all of that happened. I was right next to you, and it didn't cross my mind either that he was ill. You need to give yourself some flexibility Severus, you are human after all. Forgive yourself. "

The defense professor steepled his fingers in concentration; it wasn't her job to protect the teenager - it was his and right now he would give anything to change places with him.

Neither professor said a word as they waited in the sitting room to hear any news about how Harry was doing. They sat still for so long that Severus's neck and back were sore, but he dared not to move. Eventually, the first golden rays of the sun rising through the sky could be seen across the stone walls, but the two occupants of the room hardly noticed.

"I don't know what to do," Severus said, his voice cracking from lack of use and fear. He lowered his head to hide the tears that started to well up into his eyes and fall down his cheeks.

"This is just a hurdle in the long road Severus," Minerva said in a soft, sympathetic voice, "you'll both get through this as you always do."

She cannot know that.

~~~~AU SS~~~~

It was mid October and time for one of Harry's bimonthly check ups to see how the potions were doing at clearing the Leukemia. August's check up showed a slight decline in the Leukemia cells, so they chose to stay on course and were hoping today's tests would show a more significant decrease.

Harry had Quidditch practice that morning, so they were not due at St. Mungo's until two o'clock in the afternoon. Harry was always sore after the bone marrow biopsy that was done to check his progress and, as the Quidditch Captain, he arranged for an early practice to accommodate. Severus was relieved with the later schedule because it gave him time to catch up with an old friend, Alton Smithe.

"Why do I have a feeling this isn't a social call?" Alton said warily as he came through the floo. Living in the muggle world meant he had to arrange for floo travel ahead of time, which is exactly what Severus did for this occasion.

"Maybe because I am not a social person?" Severus replied only half joking.

The healer laughed while accepting the cup of tea Severus offered and taking a sip, "So what's the emergency?"

"No emergency," the Potions Master explained, "I just like to be prepared and I'd like your professional opinion on the matter."

He handed over a stack of parchment to his friend containing all of Harry's medical tests and potions regimens to date.

"Harry has a check up test this afternoon and the last one wasn't bad, but it also wasn't where I'd hoped we would have been at that point," he leaned over placing his elbows on his knees. He took a deep breath and asked the question that had been plaguing his mind all week, "If today's shows no decline in cancer cells, do you think Harry would still be a good candidate for chemotherapy?"

Alton placed down his cup of tea and lowered his brows in concentration. When Harry was diagnosed with Leukemia earlier this year, Severus had contacted Alton about the muggle chemotherapy option, but in the end Harry flat out refused because it would start to erase his magical core, so they had gone with a full magical Healer to oversee his potions regimen. Cancer was so rare in the wizarding community that there wasn't enough research done to know if the potions would cure it, which is why Severus stayed in close contact with Alton throughout the whole process.

"I'm going to be honest Severus," Alton said, "it would be a difficult process at this point. While the potions have been more effective than I would have expected, to get the Leukemia low enough we'd need to be extremely to be aggressive and start quickly. He'd likely need to be admitted at least for the start of treatment.

"If it were an option I'd suggest a bone marrow transplant, however the best matches are siblings or biological parents, which he - unfortunately - does not have. We can try the registry, but there has been almost no research done on the effects of using full muggle marrow in a complete transplant for a wizard. Who knows what kind of reaction he could have?"

Severus thought hard about what that meant for today's appointment; if things were looking good, then they could continue on the same path. Yet, if the cell count was climbing, he needed to act quickly to start Harry on the chemotherapy.

"If I let you know tonight," Severus asked, his voice full of desperation, "when can you get him started?"

"We could admit him as early as tomorrow morning to do the couple extra tests the chemotherapy requires and we could start treatment first thing Monday morning. You should plan on him staying in the hospital for as long as 8 weeks, depending on how treatment progresses."

Severus nodded in agreement. Now he at least had a contingency plan should the news today be bad. He would somehow need to get Harry onboard with it though.

"How's Mary doing?" Severus asked, hoping to distract himself until it was time to go to St. Mungo's.

"Stop bouncing like that," Severus told Harry who was bouncing his left foot on the floor while they were waiting to hear the results of the bone marrow biopsy.

"I hate the biopsies," Harry complained, rubbing his back as if to make a point.

"Unfortunately, there is no magical way to test the bone marrow," the Potions Master said slowly as he placed his hand over Harry's left knee to hold it down. "Sit. Still."

It was only another five minutes until the Healer walked into the room and immediately Severus knew it was bad news. Their healer, a middle aged woman named Nadine Walker, pulled over a stool and sat down across from Severus and Harry.

"I'm so sorry to say," Healer Walker started pulling out a piece of parchment with Harry's results, "the Leukemia has increased significantly since August's test."

Severus felt his heart drop to his stomach at the same time Harry's head fell into his hands.

"But I'm feeling good," Harry said sadly.

"Yes," Healer Walker turned to Harry, "the potions you're taking will help alleviate the side effects of the cancer itself which is why you're not experiencing the same symptoms from last May, but at this rate even those won't be enough."

Looking at his son, Severus could see him swiping at his eyes not wanting the two adults to know he was crying.

"What do I do now?" The teen asked.

"I have a list of recommended changes to your current potions, as well as two new ones," she said, handing the list to Severus.

Exploring the list, it became evident that they were increasing the level to which Harry's magical core could help fight the cancer. While it wasn't enough to cause permanent magical signature loss, he would have a significant decrease in magical power while taking the potions.

"I spoke to Alton-" he started but was immediately interrupted by Harry.

"No," the Gryffindor said defiantly, "I'm not doing chemotherapy. I read about what it could do not only to my magic, but my body. It's like a poison! I won't be able to attend classes, play Quidditch, or do anything. If this is killing me, I'm not living whatever time I have left like that."

"Harry," Severus said calmly, "think about this for a minute. Alton says with an aggressive enough treatment, we still have a good chance of beating it. We had a few good months on the potions, but we have no way of knowing how well the next few months will go. It's too much of a risk."

"I'll give you both some time to discuss this," the healer said professionally. "Take your time and please stop by my office to let me know what you choose. Either way it needs to be fast."

"I'm not doing it," Harry stubbornly said once she had left. "And you can't make me."

"It's not worth it Harry," Severus tried to explain yet again. How could this child, HIS child, not understand how precious his life was? Does he have no idea what would happen to Severus if he lost his son?

"I'm 16 years old Dad," Harry said, calming down knowing by now that arguing with Severus was not going to convince the man to see things his way, "if it came down to it, I'm close enough to an adult that they would let me choose."

Severus grimaced knowing he was right. If Harry were choosing not to treat the cancer at all, he would have more say, but this would simply just delay the treatment more than Harry had time for. Picking up the recommended changes and potion additions, he quickly validated their recommendations; it all added up and theoretically it could work.

"Ok," he finally conceded. "I'll start making the changes tonight."

Harry stood up from his chair and gave Severus a big hug, something he did not do as often anymore; Harry always said he was getting too old for that stuff.

"I wish it had been better news," he said into Severus's shoulder.

"Me too Harry," he replied. "It's just a hurdle in the road and we'll get through it as we always do."