~~~~HP~~~~

Harry couldn't believe what he was seeing as his emerald eyes widened to take in the scene before him. There was no denying the man facing them, and who hopefully hadn't seen them, was Lucius Malfoy. He looked every bit as evil as the last time Harry encountered the man at the Department of Mysteries, but the air of arrogance that had always surrounded him was no longer there. In its place was a layer of desperation; as if this Matthew-wizard held the key to Lucius's survival. The elder blonde's eyes were shifting back and forth rapidly like a scared, trapped, animal, and while the Gryffindor could see his lips moving, he couldn't comprehend a single sound coming from them.

Time seemed to standstill when Harry and Draco finally flung themselves back against the front wall of the Apothecary, trying to hide from Lucius and Matthew. There were a thousand thoughts running through Harry's head - one of which was how great it would feel to hex the blonde man for his role in Sirius's death - and Snape would be proud that none of those thoughts included staying to listen to whatever was being said between the two wizards. He had to assume that whatever it was, it was not something legal. After all, normal people didn't talk about legal things in a dark alleyway.

"What's your father doing out of Azkaban?" Harry whispered to the shocked Slytherin on his right.

If Malfoy's face was any indication, the other boy had no idea his father had been "released", or more likely "broken out". More alarming to the Gryffindor though was the fact that this breakout had not been reported - at least as far as Harry had read - in the news, meaning this was either a very recent development or Voldemort was absolutely p controlling the media outlets. It didn't take a genius to know it had to be the latter, which wasn't too surprising, but definitely cause for some concern.

"Let's go!" The Gryffindor whispered, pulling Malfoy's arm away from the clandestine meeting. "We should go tell Severus."

"But… "

Harry could see the conflict in the grey eyes staring off towards where the teen's father stood. Malfoy was visibly torn between his loyalty to his family and that of the Order. Trying to place himself in the Slytherin's proverbial shoes, Harry could appreciate the confusion caused not only by seeing the man that the Malfoy heir had once worshiped not sitting in prison, but also that this same man did not seek out his son. And to make matters any more complicated, if the blonde teen originally made his decision to join the Order as a spy because Voldemort left his father rotting in Azkaban, what would seeing his father hiding in Hogsmeade do to him?

"Draco," Harry quietly commanded. He'd intentionally used Malfoy's given name since it always had a grounding effect on him in those early days with Snape. He was rewarded with a set of grey, angry eyes upon his own, "We have to tell Severus. You're not just going to strut in there and interrupt whatever it is, likely illegal, they're doing."

It seemed to work, as the other teen straightened himself up taller.

"Malfoy's don't strut," was all he said, turning to follow Harry's urging to leave the potentially dangerous situation.

"Sure they don't," Harry sarcastically replied, running up behind Malfoy on their way back to the castle.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus was spending his "quiet day", as Harry had called it, in his laboratory. With only five days left until he could test the black substance, he was definitely feeling the pressure. It didn't help that he was now trying to stay on top of Harry's eating while keeping a close watch on his overall demeanor. Whether it was because of Harry's knowledge of his magical block or because of their honest conversation regarding his possible depression, the Gryffindor had seemed just a bit lighter in the last two days than the last two weeks. In fact, the professor found himself dreading the upcoming chemotherapy tomorrow in fear of it bringing back Harry's sullen mood.

He was more lost in his thoughts than normal and hadn't noticed Harry or Draco entering his office on the other side of the door at the top of the stairs as he otherwise would have. It wasn't until the door to his laboratory swung open, with such a force that he was sure the wall behind it would have cracked had it not been made of solid stone, that his attention was brought to his two students. Both of them were out of breath, as if they'd run the entire way from Hogsmeade to his quarters, and their cheeks were flushed red; from the cold or the running, Severus wasn't precisely sure.

"Severus…" Draco called out, leaning against the table top to support his weight. "He's… out… Hogs… meade… Harry… "

Turning to the Gryffindor, Severus went to check that there was nothing physically wrong, although he knew the message didn't necessarily allude to anything of the sort. Harry was rapidly removing his winter gear, including his hat, scarf, gloves, and coat, also gasping for breath.

"Will one of you stop moving enough to catch your breath and tell me what happened," the former spy was using his Occlumency to push away the panic that was creeping into his mind; the visions of Death Eaters and Voldemort himself.

"It was Malfoy," Harry finally said and Severus ignored for the moment how he was clutching at his side. Harry must have picked up on Severus's confused expression because he quickly added, "Not Draco! Lucius was in Hogsmeade!"

No amount of Occlumency was going to hide the astonishment on his face. If Lucius was out of Azkaban, this was news to him, which meant it was also news to the Order. No good could come from it, no matter which way he tried to look at it. How had there been no word about a breakout from Azkaban, and who else had broken out with the Malfoy Patriarch?

Before he could answer any of that, he needed to handle the situation in front of him and it was likely a very betrayed feeling Slytherin. Using his wand to summon over two stools for the teens, he gestured for them both to sit. Then he placed a stasis charm over his cauldron, silently thanking that this happened at a point that would not ruin his weeks of work.

"Take your time and catch your breath," he carefully said, and when it seemed like they were more comfortable, he spoke to Harry first, "I need you to go to your room and wait for me there. Once I have a better idea of the situation, I will come up to see you."

Harry wanted to protest, the former spy could see it in his eyes, but to his credit he did not react to that desire. Instead he nodded his head, gave Draco a saddened expression that Severus had seen others give the Gryffindor many times over the last several months, and walked up the stairs presumably to his bedroom.

"First, are you alright, Draco?"

Severus took the seat Harry had vacated and watched the blonde for any signs of distress. There was no way Draco would not be considering how having the knowledge that his father would be out of Azkaban before Christmas would have affected his decision to align himself with the Order. If Severus did not tread the next conversation carefully, it could be detrimental to the teen, as well as Harry and the Order. While they'd done a very good job at keeping Draco compartmentalized away from any large secrets should the Dark Lord try to rip them from his mind, it did not necessarily account for the things Draco could freely provide on their cause and Harry.

When the Malfoy heir didn't answer - a clear sign he was not alright - Severus tried another approach, "Are you certain it was your father?"

That had the intended effect as the boy in front of him jumped off of the stool and ran his hands through his messy, platinum blonde hair.

"Of course I'm certain!" He yelled back at his mentor, "Don't you think I would recognize my own father?"

"Could it have been someone using Polyjuice to disguise themselves as him?"

"Who would fucking want to do that?" Now the teen started pacing, "If so, they're completely moronic for choosing someone who every single wizard knows is in Azkaban. I'm not even that stupid, Severus! Not only that, I don't see how Polyjuice would have gotten his bloody Azkaban tattoo on his neck if the hair was collected before he went away."

That last sentence was laced with fear and regret. It was said in a way that showed Draco was still terrified of something like that happening to himself.

"Tell me what you saw."

Draco took a deep breath and sat back down on the stool across from the professor. Severus could see the questions in his eyes as he worked through what had happened that afternoon.

"I followed Potter out because he left his scarf at the table and when we were talking," at this point the teen flushed a bit and Severus didn't want to question any more about that, "I saw Matthew walking past us. We were going towards the castle and he was going into town. It was too coincidental, so we followed him."

Foolish boys, he thought. They could have gotten themselves killed or at a bare minimum a one-way ticket to the Dark Lord himself.

"And I take it Matthew was meeting with your father?" Severus added. It didn't take Severus's keen observation skills to know that was where this was headed.

"Yes," Draco replied, "it's strange, isn't it?"

It wasn't at all strange to the professor given their odd encounter with the skittish man earlier that month; and then adding that Lucius was now out of Azkaban. The latter was what concerned the former spy the most.

"What did you overhear?" It was an assumption made on his part, but one he felt confident in making.

"My father said that whatever he was asking for was necessary. He was angry, but that's nothing new."

Severus watched the teenage Slytherin carefully and once he was satisfied that the blonde was stable enough, he asked again, "Are you alright?"

Draco clenched his pointed jaw in an attempt to remain in control of his emotions and Severus proudly saw the Occlumency mask fall upon his face.

"I will be," the blonde said confidently. "Why didn't they tell me, Severus? My mother could have gotten word to me somehow."

He could feel the anxiety uncharacteristically radiating from the teen, feelings of guilt and abandonment were sure to be going through the young wizard's mind.

"I don't know the reason, Draco," he answered, "but whatever it is, I'm sure your parents did not wish to cause you any unnecessary worry."

"Should be a great Christmas holiday this year."

That was a situation the former spy had not yet considered. On the one hand, he knew Draco would not want to leave his mother alone with the Dark Lord any longer than absolutely necessary. On the other hand, if Lucius is at the Manor as well, the Matriarch would understand wanting to keep her child safe from both the Dark Lord and his own father.

"I can't stay here," Draco continued, as if he was reading Severus's mind; an impossibility but concerning nonetheless.

"Perhaps-"

"No, Severus," the teen argued again, "I can't leave her alone in that house and hide away here."

"If you remember, it was my suggestion that you hide in the first place," he pinched the bridge of his nose and immediately pulled away from the foul smell of potions ingredients still on his hands, drawing his attention to the cauldrons behind him. Nothing could ever be easy. "He cannot know your status within the Order."

Draco's grey eyes met Severus's deep, dark black ones.

"That much is obvious."

"No, Draco," the former Death Eater warned, "it will not be that simple. If your father is trying to get back into the good graces of the Dark Lord, he may try anyway he can to coax any paramount information from you. You cannot waver; your life will depend on that."

After a pregnant pause, Draco nodded his head. It would be difficult for the teen to pull this off and Severus seriously considered suggesting to Albus that he require the Slytherin to stay behind this holiday, except that would look suspicious. No matter how many different scenarios he thought through, they all led to Draco appearing distrustful to one side or the other. Instead, he would have to work closely with the headmaster to provide the new spy with plenty of innocuous information to provide the Dark Lord that appeared to have value, at least on the surface. He would definitely have his work cut out for him leading up to the Christmas holiday.

"Go back to the common room," Severus suggested, placing his hand on Draco's shoulder when he stood. "I have a lot to explain to the headmaster."

"What about Potter?" Draco refused to move until the question was answered.

"What about him?"

"Shouldn't you go talk to him? I mean, the last time he saw my father was when…"

For the second time, Draco clenched his jaw tight, refusing to bring up the exact situation that had caused the Gryffindor so much pain and anguish at the end of term last year. No one, not even Draco now, could deny that it seemed like Harry was destined to be parent-less and alone. The Dark Lord had taken everything from that child, starting from an event he couldn't even remember, and all because Severus had overheard that awful prophesy. The former Death Eater would continue to try to atone for that sin until the day he died.

"I'll talk to Harry," Severus finally said, "now go try to calm down a bit. Whatever you do, you are not to let your mother know that you saw Lucius."

"Obviously," the teenage Slytherin replied, walking out of the laboratory ahead of his professor. He turned at the last second before exiting the office, and sadly said, "Potter barely ate anything at Three Broomsticks this afternoon."

Severus ran his right hand over his forehead. That observation coming from Draco was a very positive change to see overall, especially when the teen was considering a career in healing. As for the statement itself, he'd been counting the calories from Harry's food diary, and while the Gryffindor had been making a good effort, the professor didn't think it was nearly enough to make up for the weight and nutrition he'd lost. Ultimately, Alton should have been on top of this situation a while ago - maybe even Dr. Swanson as well - and now Severus was fearful for how tomorrow's treatment was going to go.

Against his better judgement, Severus had decided to go discuss with Albus what Draco and Harry had discovered before talking to Harry. He assumed it would be a relatively quick visit, whereas Harry's would likely be very lengthy. He couldn't have been any more wrong. Albus had the former Death Eater go through his limited knowledge of Matthew, his extensive knowledge of Voldemort in general, and then worked through all the different reasons behind why Lucius was broken out of Azkaban, especially without Draco's knowledge. When Moody was brought in for a plan to get around the clock coverage as close to Malfoy Manor as possible - which in reality was not possible and, in Severus's opinion, pointless given the amount of wards on the large mansion - the former Auror made it clear he still distrusted Draco, yet confirmed he would do as Albus requested.

It was approaching nine o'clock that night by the time the professor finally made it back to his quarters. He was frustrated, tired, and felt guilty about leaving Harry as long as he had even though the Gryffindor was sixteen, and logically the professor knew the young wizard could take care of himself. That was a big difference between the two Harry's that Severus had not yet acknowledged. It really only took a year in his old reality for Harry to trust and depend on him, but Harry was only twelve and children at that age forgive easily and move on much quicker than sixteen. With Harry here, while they'd come a long way given the antagonistic relationship they'd had before Severus showed up, he still was an extremely independent teenager. He refused to admit when he needed help or when something was bothering him. Between his negligent childhood and everything that had happened with the Dark Lord, this child had been forced to grow up far too quickly.

He took the familiar walk to the Gryffindor's room and gently knocked on the door, pondering about how lately it seemed he'd been having too many of these types of conversations with the teen. He was promptly rewarded with Harry's permission to enter his bedroom, and took his normal seat at the young wizard's desk. Harry looked like he had been reading through his advanced defense book prior to Severus's arrival, which was a bit peculiar to the professor.

"I apologize for being so late," he started with. "I had not anticipated my meeting with the headmaster to be quite so lengthy."

Harry gave a soft smile, "I take it Lucius's sudden appearance from Azkaban is kind of a big deal?"

"Your assumption would be correct," Severus responded and they fell into a companionable silence. Given Harry's likelihood of saying he was fine, Severus decided to back into the conversation regarding the young wizard's feelings about seeing Lucius free from Azkaban. "How was the rest of your time in Hogsmeade?"

If Harry questioned his motives, he did not react to it. The former spy was proud of the fact he wasn't completely wearing his heart on his sleeve, even if that meant it was harder to determine Harry's current mood. It most likely meant that he'd been actively practicing his Occlumency and they would be ready to move onto the next step very soon - defending against an active attack.

"It was different," Harry admitted, though a bit sullenly, "there were no hexes thrown, so that's a positive. Oh, and Dumbledore offered Dudley an official job here. He seemed happy about it."

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore had spoken about that at our last staff meeting," Severus confirmed, hiding his own touch of jealousy because he could use an assistant teacher at the moment; more so than Charity. "Professor Burbage has said he's been extremely helpful this year."

"He seems happy with it," Harry said, "that's all that matters, right?"

"You are not responsible for his happiness, Harry."

That statement seemed to break through the wall the Gryffindor had placed up.

"I know that," he furrowed his brows as he responded. "It's just that if he can't really go home-"

"You are not responsible for his happiness," Severus repeated.

"Well, I disagree," the teenager sat up higher in his bed, "I'm the reason his parents were killed. I'm the reason he can't go back to his home. The least I can do is help him feel better about living here."

"That is not your job," the professor explained. "You do not have to save everyone, Harry, especially when you have enough on your plate as it is."

"Then we'll have to agree to disagree," Harry picked up his book and pretended to read, but that only lasted half a minute before he aggressively placed it down in his lap, "Why do you have to say stuff like that?"

"It's the truth," Severus confidently replied, "and it's something you need to hear and understand. How else was Hogsmeade?"

The former spy could see Harry's mind working through what had happened throughout the day. It appeared the Gryffindor would need more prompting, causing him to doubt his previous decision of backing into the conversation about Lucius.

"Why were you and Draco coming back to the castle so early?"

Harry's face flushed, but it gave the desired effect and the young wizard started talking, "I just felt like coming home. And then Draco brought me my scarf and he saw… I don't even know who that was…"

Severus took notice of Harry's use of Draco's given name as he trailed off in his thoughts. Regardless of if the Gryffindor had noticed the slip of tongue, it was significant in Harry's own growth.

"His name is Matthew," the former spy provided, seeing no reason why Harry could not know this information. "I know him from the potions community, specifically where it related to my other tasks."

"He's working for Vol- you-know-who, isn't he?"

Wanting to be honest with Harry as much as he could be, Severus replied, "I believe so, especially if he were meeting with Draco's father."

Having breached the taboo subject, Harry's face immediately soured.

"I almost drew my wand on him," the young wizard eventually said. "I wanted to kill him."

"I'm glad you didn't."

"Ultimately, I am too," relief filled Harry's eyes, "I doubt I could do chemotherapy from Azkaban."

"No, you definitely could not," he replied. "Tell me about Lucius. You were obviously angry."

"Of course I was angry!" The Gryffindor yelled, "If it weren't for him then Sirius…"

Harry paused, and Severus was pleased to see the recognition hit the young wizard's face that he had not been responsible for his Godfather's death. It was the first time Severus had heard Harry place that blame closer to where it appropriately belonged.

"Did you know I tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix that night?"

It was an odd transition, but the former Death Eater didn't say anything about that. Rather, he nodded his head that he had, in fact, known about Harry's failed attempt at the unforgivable curses from his counterpart's memory of that fateful night. He wouldn't tell the teen how the Death Eaters all had a good laugh at his expense after they'd all been punished for not securing the prophesy; Severus included even though he hadn't been part of the plan.

Instead, he focused on further discussing Harry's guilt over the events that lead to his Godfather's death, which gave way to his feelings about his friends, school, and his magic. They went through everything he had wanted to talk to Harry about early in the week before their next Occlumency lesson, but he couldn't pass up the opportunity when it presented itself. This was not a single conversation though. They would need to continue to revisit Harry's feelings on all of these topics many times over the upcoming months, until the young wizard started feeling more in control of himself; when Harry could say things were not fine and be able to ask for help, or at least be able to use coping mechanisms - primarily Occlumency and meditation - to help guide him through those difficult times.

It was a half past midnight when Severus finally stood to leave, and Harry was looking better. It had been such a productive conversation, that the professor wasn't going to ruin it by mentioning Dr. Swanson and Madam Pomfrey's arrival in less than seven short hours. The last thing Harry needed was to be reminded of his next chemotherapy tomorrow - or rather today - which would bring his first IT since the start of Phase Two.

As he reached his hand for the handle, to pull the heavy oak door open and finally to go to bed, Harry spoke quietly from behind him.

"It's not going to work is it?"

Severus stopped and thought deeply about their conversation tonight and what could have triggered that question. It sounded as if Harry was doubting the efficacy of the chemotherapy, but they've been given zero indication that it would not work. All his tests thus far have been positive.

Back in my old reality, things had looked positive too, until it took a fatal turn we couldn't stop.

Pushing that horrid thought aside to sort out later, Severus turned to the young wizard sitting up in his bed.

"I'm sorry," his face gave way to his confusion. "What won't work?"

"This," Harry pulled out the food diary and held it out to Severus.

This was not a conversation they needed to be having at almost one o'clock in the morning. He didn't want to dismiss Harry's concerns though, so instead he took the diary and tucked it under his arm.

"As always," he said, making eye contact with the Gryffindor, "we will handle whatever Dr. Swanson's recommendation is. You will not do this alone."

Without another word, Harry nodded and then laid down in his bed facing the wall away from the door. Feeling the weight of the room around him, Severus left - closing the door behind him - and walked slowly to his bedroom, ready to put the day behind him.

~~~~HP~~~~

"Why do you need to know that?" Harry aggressively replied to Dr. Swanson's question.

The morning came far too quickly - he'd had a hard time sleeping after his discussion with Snape - and the last thing Harry wanted to be doing at that exact moment was chemotherapy. Madam Pomfrey and his muggle doctor had arrived at the early hours of seven that morning, and he'd already had the IT completed, but apparently his doctor had things to go over with him and Snape during his IV chemo. He didn't expect those "things" to have anything to do with the living conditions while he had been under his aunt and uncle's "care".

"I don't live with them anymore," Harry firmly reiterated, looking over to Snape for help on the invasion of his privacy. "They're dead, it doesn't matter anymore."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple, Harry," Dr. Swanson continued. "I've been looking over Dr. Smithe's files and I'm surprised he hadn't addressed this with you both already."

Harry simply stared at her in defiance. First, he didn't like how she kept calling Healer Smithe "Dr. Smithe". Sure, as a muggle that was probably how she knew him, but it still irritated him. Second, she didn't have to sound so accusatory over the statement. Healer Smithe had been doing the best he could and until the whole telling Voldemort about him part, Harry had always felt safe with the man.

"Harry," Snape said, and based on his glare, the young wizard knew he'd missed a part - likely a significant part - of the conversation. "Dr. Swanson has expressed concern about your weight loss and overall nutrition."

Trying to keep an open mind, he made eye contact with the doctor and admitted, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear what you said."

Dr. Swanson leaned over so her arms rested on her thighs, and Harry thought she must be trying to appear more friendly that way, except it didn't work, "I said that you've done a great job at keeping track of what you're eating these last couple of days, and I can see you've taken several of the steps I've suggested to increase the quantity or at least the number of calories. However, in looking at where you started before chemotherapy, I'm afraid you physically can't catch up."

That did not sound good to Harry at all. He'd always been small and rather skinny for his age, and he could admit to himself that the scarce food from the Dursley's probably had a lot to do with it. What he really didn't want to do was say that out loud in the present company. Snape obviously knew some of what went on at Privet Drive, and he could imagine Madam Pomfrey wasn't clueless to it either, but that didn't mean he wanted to say it.

His silence was filled in with the doctor continuing to speak, "Based on what I've heard from your headmaster, plus what I see in your first physical as well as your school records throughout the years, I have to assume you were significantly underfed while living with your relatives."

It wasn't a question, however Harry gave a small, almost imperceptible, nod. That was much easier than giving a verbal response, but he'd prefer if they would simply leave it be. It didn't matter anymore, he had plenty of food he could eat, if only he wanted to eat it.

That's the definition of irony right there.

"So what do I do about it?" The young wizard asked. "It's obviously not an issue anymore while I'm living here."

"No, Harry, that's not really the issue," Dr. Swanson responded, and Harry thought Snape seemed to relax a bit at that statement. "Being about halfway through phase two, I really had hoped your weight would start increasing with the longer breaks between treatments, especially with the high calorie smoothies added, but the fact is that your body just can't catch up on its own with what you can eat. I think it's time we discuss the option of a feeding tube overnight."

"You make that sound like I have an option," Harry flatly replied.

"That's because at this point, you do," Dr. Swanson surprised him with that answer, "however I've been told you cannot leave the castle and therefore if we don't take this step now, there may be bigger implications later. You're sixteen years old, so as long as you're conscious, I want your opinion on the matter."

In the end, Harry knew it was futile to try and argue the point, and he agreed to it as the better option compared to being sent to a muggle hospital. It was decided that starting Tuesday night - Snape's suggestion, which not so ironically coincided with their Occlumency lesson - he would receive nutrients through the tube that would be placed in his nose leading directly to his stomach. It was something that made Harry very uncomfortable to talk about, and his stomach churned as he read through the literature Dr. Swanson had left for him to look over. She seemed pleased with his agreement, while he felt a bit of pride over the fact that he managed to get out of the conversation without having to go through what living with the Dursley's had been like.

Celebrate the small wins.

Having been up most of the night, the Gryffindor decided to try to sleep once the two hours of chemotherapy was completed. It may have only been barely lunchtime, but he was completely drained after Hogsmeade yesterday and the intense meeting with Dr. Swanson that morning.

He could feel himself aching from every part of his body as he tried to stand from the ornate chair he'd been sitting in. While he'd been feeling ill periodically for several weeks now, today was another particularly bad occasion. The Healer, who was unfortunately no longer available to him, had spoken of Potter's illness living within his blood and it didn't take him long to determine that the muggle disease was most likely infecting him as well. He'd hoped his stronger magic would easily rid it from his body, alas things were not working well and even the extra-strength potions were not masking the pain he was almost constantly in lately.

"My Lord," Wormtail called as he entered the large dining room.

Taking up residence at Malfoy Manor after Severus's betrayal was done as a show of his power; that he could insert himself into any of his followers' lives should they need a more convincing reason to obey his every command. Now it seemed he had an actual reason for this Manor being the one he required. It had taken more time than he'd originally expected, but he had finally gotten the Malfoy patriarch - as well as his other followers that had been imprisoned after that failure of a night - freed from Azkaban. If he expected to live to see tomorrow, the man would be showing up with the one thing he could actually provide at the moment: access to another healer. This one would likely be as unwilling to help him as the previous one, however he had it on good authority that she specialized in the few dirty-muggle diseases that happened to infect the wizarding community, and he had his ways of being particularly convincing. Lucius's new job would be babysitting this healer to ensure she remained compliant.

"Enter, Wormtail," he called gesturing his most fearful servant into the extravagant dining room, "has Lucius arrived?"

"Yes, my Lord," the skittish man bowed his head. "And he's brought Healer Walker with him."

So he was capable of something after all.

"Send them in."

After a quick nod, Wormtail left the room in a hurry. He could feel his body start aching again and he took another sip of the stomach soother potion that did nothing to ease the cramping in his stomach.

A minute went by before he heard the screaming of Nadine Walker as she was dragged in by Lucius's firm hold to her upper arm and the back of her neck. He could smell the fear seeping from her pores as his least liked Death Eater forced her to kneel on the ground before him.

"I require a healer," he said, pushing his face up into her terrified one. "This is a very simple arrangement I offer you: find me a cure and I will let you live."

He likely wouldn't let her live regardless, however he needed some leverage with the woman who was now shaking so badly, Lucius almost lost his grip on her. It would not be in the patriarch's favor to lose the only thing keeping him alive.

"W-w-what," the woman kneeling in front of him stuttered, "do you h-h-have?"

Normally, he would embrace her fear and drag on the psychological torture until he was filled with pure ecstasy. Today, though, he was feeling exceedingly nauseous and refused to show any weakness in front of his hostage.

"I've heard it is called Leukemia," he thunderously said and quickly vacated the room, heading towards the closest lavatory he could find.

Harry's eye's sprang open and he jumped out of bed barely making it to the loo before he started sicking up. His scar was burning fiercely, as his body shook from the forceful vomiting, and Harry had no idea it was bleeding. When the next two waves of nausea had come and gone, he found himself lying on the floor with his forehead resting on the cold stones attempting to take away the burning from his vision. It must have worked because he had fallen asleep and the next thing he knew, Snape was shaking him awake.

"Harry," the baritone voice said into his ear. "You need to get up off the cold floor before you get sick."

Harry opened his eyes again and the blurred face of his professor was in front of him, and the man's strong arms reached around him to help support his practically dead weight.

"Already did, sir," he mumbled, "might do it again."

Luckily, Snape had picked up on the subtle clue and helped the young wizard back over the loo.

"Let's get you in bed," Snape sympathetically told him. "I take it you didn't sleep well last night."

"He's sick," was Harry's confusing reply. He could barely hold his eyes open, but he needed to tell Snape about his vision. "Voldemort is… oh shite, sorry, sir."

"It's alright, Harry," the former Death Eater said through his clenched jaw.

When Harry was back in bed, he had an even harder time keeping his focus and his eyes opened. He had to tell Snape about the new healer, Voldemort's Leukemia, and Lucius, so he pushed himself up onto his elbows.

"You-know-who has Leukemia. He knows about it," the Gryffindor said. "He needed Draco's father to collect… or something… a Healer. What was her name?"

Snape was watching him intently though Harry wasn't quite awake enough to recognize that fact.

"Go to bed, Harry," the professor said, tucking the green bedspread around the Gryffindor's small shoulders.

"Walker… her name is Nadine Walker, and she is really scared. I think he's keeping her there."

Snape froze in midair at the sound of the name he recognized as Harry's healer back from his old reality.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus had been completely shocked to hear the familiar name from Harry's vision after his chemotherapy. While he'd already known from Alton's interrogation and the impromptu visit to Shell Cottage that the Dark Lord knew about the Leukemia residing in his own blood, it was important for him to know that the Dark Lord now had a resource at his disposal - unwillingly by the sound of it - that Severus knew for a fact could get him the answers he needed.

The former spy spent the next two days combing his memories of those early appointments after Harry's diagnosis in his old reality. How had they decided on Severus making the potions that Harry would take? It had just been assumed; as a Potion's Master he was fully capable of creating them, and who better to brew them for his son? How had he gotten the instructions and ingredients? That came from Healer Walker, so at this point, he had to assume the Dark Lord would be on his way to possibly healing the Leukemia from his body. Now that he knew Harry's core - even back in his old reality - was split, it could be the reason the potions didn't work in the end; even though they had given every indication of working until that very last regimen.

In addition to his rampaging thoughts on the vision, Severus was getting nervous about the completion of the potion. By this time tomorrow, they would know for sure if the black substance was from the soul piece within Harry. If it was, then he would not be able to deny that Harry - his Harry - was a Horcrux for the Dark Lord. That thought alone soured his stomach so much, he was almost the one running to the loo this time. He had been so focused on trying to use the soul piece as a way to preserve any magic possible for the young wizard, he'd been putting off the troll in the room, of needing to find a way to destroy it.

According to all his research, which he could admit was small, the only way to release the soul piece was to damage the container beyond any physical or magical repair, and the only way Severus knew how to do that was with Basilisk venom - yet that technically could be healed with Phoenix tears, so it might not work in Harry's case - fiendfyre, and possibly the killing curse. Of course, the odds of Harry somehow surviving that twice was improbable. No matter what he knew today on it though, once Harry was in the maintenance phase and no longer needed constant care, he was determined to spend his every extra minute on finding a way to remove the soul piece without bringing any harm to the Gryffindor. He refused to believe the only option was to essentially kill Harry.

Dinner on Tuesday night in his quarters with the young wizard was a quiet affair; both residents were deep within their own thoughts. Severus knew he was really in no condition, mentally, to work on Occlumency with Harry that night, but with Dr. Swanson and Madam Pomfrey coming by to set up the nasogastric tube to start Harry on his additional nutrients while he slept, the young wizard needed to try to clear his mind as much as possible.

"How were classes today?" Severus asked, trying to make some kind of conversation between them.

"Same as always." Harry was frustratingly pushing his food across his plate. "Why am I still going to classes again?"

"Regardless of what you choose to do with your magic," the professor started, "learning the theory now will help pick up the spells at a faster rate once you can use magic again."

Severus did not miss the hmph from the child sitting across from him. It was bound to be something they continued to debate well into the maintenance phase of chemotherapy, and he was already exhausted just thinking about it.

"So, I'm still going to eat with this tube in, right?" Severus could hear the fear in Harry's voice and wished he could ease the teen's mind.

"Yes," he confirmed, "you'll still eat and drink as normal throughout the day as the tube will be small enough not to impede your regular functions. Then throughout the night, you'll get a metered nutritional fluid that will help boost your overall nutrition and weight."

Harry's emerald eyes were pleading with his onyx ones, but they both knew this was a necessary step.

"You should start feeling better overall," he added, hoping to lessen the anxiety over the situation, yet knowing it wouldn't help. "Let's go work on your Occlumency."

As expected, neither wizard was able to fully concentrate on the Occlumency lesson in the beginning, which meant they started with an exasperated professor and a burned out student. Eventually, they decided simply to sit in silence allowing Harry the chance to pull up his forest alone. That had at least gone well enough, that when a piece of parchment popped up close to bedtime with Madam Pomfrey and Meghan Swanson written on it, the Gryffindor was relaxed - something the former spy definitely was not.

"Here we go," Severus said, heading to the door where the medi-witch and muggle doctor were waiting.

"You knew we were coming, Severus," Madam Pomfrey huffed with her pointer finger out at him. "I swear you do it on purpose, just so I have to walk throughout the castle and into the dungeons."

Without saying a word, he gestured for the two women to enter his sitting room, where Harry was no longer present. As much as he wanted the Matron to believe that, it was not that case tonight. He'd simply closed the floo when he and Harry were working on Occlumency. It would be a very alarming experience for Harry to be pulled from his forest by the roaring floo, which was the opposite effect he was aiming for.

"We had a lesson that could not be disturbed," Severus explained while watching as Dr. Swanson was preparing her supplies.

"Sure you did," the matron bellowed, "where is Mr. Potter?"

As if on cue, the young wizard walked slowly into the sitting room, having changed out of his jeans and jumper and into his pyjamas. It seemed to take Harry forever to cross the small room and sit onto the sofa. The procedure overall was easy and unlike when he had his port placed, this really required no medical equipment outside of the thin tube and the tape that held it in place across his cheek. For the actual placement, Dr. Swanson measured out the required tubing length and marked it so they would know when it was in the correct location, and then fed the tube through Harry's right nostril and down into his stomach. Madam Pomfrey had provided Harry a goblet of water with a straw - an item Severus always picked up whenever he went to the muggle pharmacy - to keep the Gryffindor swallowing throughout the process. Once in place, Dr. Swanson tested a small amount of fluid from it to ensure it was indeed in the teen's stomach.

From Severus's vantage point, it was not a comfortable process whatsoever and it took Dr. Swanson three tries before all parties involved had finally relaxed enough to get it completed. From there, the doctor walked Madam Pomfrey and Severus through how the actual nutrient fluid would be administered, as both of them would be responsible for setting up the drip every night and disconnecting it in the morning.

Since electronics won't work in Hogwarts - a fact that appalled Dr. Swanson - they'd be using a gravity drip method throughout the night. It would slowly administer the fluid and Harry would be getting added nutrients without needing to physically eat or get the feeling of being physically full. The idea was to do this for three weeks, which was also the length of time the tube can stay in place before needing to change it, and then reevaluate.

"I can't decide if this is better or worse than the 22 hour chemotherapy I did at the end of July," Harry said, sitting up in bed as Severus made sure everything was set for the night. The continuous chemotherapy felt almost like a lifetime ago to him.

"Definitely better," the professor replied. "I know it's hard to understand this now, but you will feel better after all of this."

"I wasn't like this in your old reality, was I?" Harry asked. "On the potions, you said I was healthier."

The professor cringed at that last word. Had the other Harry been healthier, he would not have died. No matter how uncomfortable it made him, Severus refused to lie to Harry about his counterpart's battle; about what the other side would have looked like had he chosen it.

"I wouldn't say healthier, but until the last month, he had lived his life closer to as if nothing was wrong," he paused allowing the memories to flood him. Every Sunday he would freshly brew the set of potions for that week and then leave them in the hospital wing where Madam Pomfrey would have them delivered, as needed, with Harry's breakfast and dinner. Brewing that large quantity of potions was time-consuming and tedious work, but he couldn't imagine spending each Sunday any differently. The day-to-day work may have been easier in the old reality, but it had cost him so much more in the end.

"Thank you, Severus," Harry whispered, "I know I say that a lot, and at the same time, probably not as often as I should, but I do mean it. I've always had to do this stuff on my own, and well… I wouldn't be able to do it. I don't know what I'd do without your help."

The gratitude made Severus uncomfortable. He'd done so many awful things in his life, he simply did not deserve it. Instead of saying that, he replied, "You're a very strong child, I have no doubt you would have figured it out, but you are welcome."

He left Harry's bedroom that night with his heart heavy, knowing that between Harry's first night on the feeding tube and the potions being ready to test the black substance tomorrow, he was bound to get no sleep that night.