~~~~HP~~~~

Monday 13, January 1997

Harry had done his best to stay focused on his first week of term, but with Snape's birthday non-party planning, the fact that he knew he wasn't graded for his classes floating around in the back of his mind, and his last round of his Phase Two of consolidation starting, he failed miserably at it. So much so, that if he didn't try to get at least some of his essays done during his chemotherapy today and tomorrow, he would officially be considered behind on his already delayed work, and he didn't even want to think about what Snape would do then. Trying to conceal his work was also proving difficult because the professor had taken the morning off, drawing more attention to the fact that he was working on his assignments even before his doctor had arrived.

As he sat on the sofa in the sitting room, his right leg was bouncing from his fraying nerves in anticipation for this treatment, making his handwriting even harder than normal to read. At this point, he considered simply skipping the assignments he'd missed and giving it no further thought, but he couldn't do that and so now he had that worry on top of his anxiety over his latest round of chemo. For some reason, he was also thinking about Dr Swanson. This would be his first time seeing the doctor since his treatment on the 14th of December, a whole month ago, and now she'd be here not only to set his chemo up, but also to go over the next phase. While his feelings towards the muggle doctor hadn't changed drastically, he did find he wasn't feeling nearly as hostile towards her either. He'd prefer if she were magical, but now that he knew he would likely be left with some kind of magic when this was finished, it didn't bother him nearly as much as it used to. In fact, he'd found that without the animosity he'd held towards her before, she was actually very knowledgeable about what he was going through; so much so that he questioned if she had intimately known someone with cancer in her past.

"Why did you become an oncologist?" He asked her once she arrived and was setting up his first IV of chemo medication that morning. Snape was sitting in his armchair working on what looked like essay marking and lifted his head after Harry's question. "Sorry, what I mean is-"

"It's alright, Harry," she politely responded, "I get that a lot. Not many people want to work with kids that have potentially terminal illnesses, which is why I thought they needed as much help as possible. When it came time to choose my specialty, it was just something I was drawn to."

Harry nodded and decided that answer was good enough. If she didn't want to offer any other details, he didn't want to pry for them.

"Were you and your brother close before he started at Hogwarts?" He found himself asking. "My mum was muggleborn, like your brother, but I grew up with her sister, my aunt, after my parents died."

He flushed with embarrassment, unsure why he was asking her about her life growing up. Sure, he'd been curious if other siblings of muggleborns were as jealous as Aunt Petunia was, but this really wasn't the time or place for it. He blamed it purely on whatever was going on with his mind lately.

"We didn't really get on well before we found out he was a wizard," she started, giving him her full attention, which Harry found he very much appreciated, "but we grew closer as the years went on. I think some distance helped us greatly."

So it was the opposite of Aunt Petunia.

Averting his eyes away from Snape's questioning stare, he looked down at his port and watched as Dr. Swanson flushed it before inserting the specialty needle used specifically for the port. It had been less than a year - only six and a half months actually - and he found he rarely noticed the button that stuck up from his collarbone anymore. It no longer stung when he rolled over onto it when sleeping, and even when he showered he didn't notice when his soapy hand that ran across it. Now it was just a part of him, no different than his nose or ears. No one else would know it was there or have seen it either with his uniform on, as well as with most of his pyjama tops, especially because most were so loose on him. It was just something that was there until this battle was behind him and he had started thinking about if he would get it removed when he had that option, once all of this was over. Healer Smithe said some patients choose to leave it so they didn't have to go through another procedure to get it removed. Back in July that seemed unlikely, however now he could see the merit of letting it continue to sit under his skin; when he would be removed from the last chemotherapy IV, it would be freeing to literally walk away from it all. That was the image he held on to when all of this became too overwhelming.

To discuss Phase Three, Dr. Swanson required that Madam Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall be present. They had all been there for his other treatment schedules - like his own personal entourage because he had no other family - so it shouldn't have made him nervous, except the seriousness in her voice made his stomach jumble even before the chemo started. So by the time Madam Pomfrey returned with his guardian, the young wizard had worked himself almost into a panic attack questioning what would be coming up to require the other two witches present. Professor McGonagall sat directly next to Harry, giving his shoulder a squeeze of support, on the sofa with Madam Pomfrey on the far side, leaving Dr. Swanson the chair across from Snape.

"Starting on the 25th you'll enter the last phase of Consolidation chemotherapy," Dr. Swanson said matter-of-factly, jumping straight into the second purpose of her visit. Harry always loved hearing that he was entering a new phase. It made him feel like all that he'd gone through was actually doing something besides just making him sick, and that he was making some kind of progress. She handed out several pieces of paper to everyone around the sitting room as she continued her explanation of what to expect, "It's also known as Delayed Intensification and it is more or less another induction and first consolidation phase, but with a couple of new medications. All in total, this phase will last eight weeks."

"So I'm starting back at square one?" Harry asked, defeated, with an ache that settled deep within his chest when he read through the different medications and their intervals. Phase One of consolidation was by far his worst - having wanted, almost begged, to give up so many times during it - followed closely by induction, so to have eight weeks of both of those was something he was already dreading. How would he manage through all that pain again?

"This is the last push until Maintenance," she said to him, but her body was turned towards Snape, "you have eight weeks and then you'll be in the easiest part."

He didn't care if it were only two weeks, those weeks were going to be absolute hell.

"I've reviewed your file from induction and consolidation one," she continued when Harry didn't offer any further insight into what he was thinking, "I know you had a bad reaction physically, and magically to it, so knowing that, there's definitely some things we can do to try to help you out.

"For one, I'll be starting you back on the stronger morphine drip before and during each treatment. You'll have to do it through a normal IV, but hopefully that will alleviate much of the magical core pain you had experienced the last time. If not, we can always adjust the dosage or medication as often as you need. Being a direct pediatric oncologist, instead of an intermediary like Dr. Smithe was, I have access to a wider range of medications to help get you through this. You will get through this, Harry. Trust me."

He didn't trust her, even though he had no real reason not to. It wasn't like she'd lied to him in the past, if anything she'd been more honest with him than Healer Smithe ever was. It was simply because he'd been doing chemotherapy treatments for almost seven months now and none of them ever went as planned, and they had all been painful. Still, he chose not to say anything and only nodded his understanding.

"I'd also like to get you back on the nasogastric tube today," she said to him, "and restart the supplemental nutrients. Starting you out as strong as possible will also make dealing with the side effects more manageable for you."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence that enveloped the whole sitting room, and Harry could feel four pairs of eyes on him, as he hadn't actually responded since his declaration that this felt like he was starting back at the beginning. The doctor was obviously waiting for Harry's affirmation, and likely his consent, to place the feeding tube back in today.

"Ok," he mumbled, staring down at his fingers that were laced together. What else was he supposed to say to that? He'd try just about anything so he didn't feel as awful as he did last time and if this is what his doctor was suggesting, could he really argue about it? "What can I expect with the new schedule?"

Dr. Swanson drew everyone's attention to the schedule she'd handed out that listed the days, procedure - IT, IV, Tablets, or all of the above - as she entered into her doctor-lecture-mode and Harry was certain it was a skill every medical professional had, "This phase is really split into three weeks, a one week break, then two weeks, and two weeks to get to your eight total weeks.

"On the first three Saturdays, you'll have an IV treatment with two medications of an hour each. For the first week, you'll also have an IT on that Saturday, plus you'll have a new IV medication on Tuesday the 28th, that one will be three hours on its own. Then, in addition to the IV's you'll start a chemotherapy tablet regimen that consists of three tablets a day, everyday in the first and third week. You'll want to take these with food and before 6 o'clock in the evening otherwise they do tend to cause patients to have trouble sleeping. And of course you'll stay on all the prophylactic tablets you're already taking."

Harry was feeling absolutely overwhelmed by the way she rattled through it all and, luckily, Snape could tell. How was it possible that he'd just really gotten a good grip on the every ten days and now it was completely switching again? Plus, he'd be adding more tablets to his plethora of them to take each day. The only good part of it was that it appeared like most of his IV treatments would be on Saturdays, giving him time to recover before his classes started again, unlike the current phase where it rotated throughout the week.

"I'll handle the schedule and your tablets, Harry, and let you know each week what is coming up," Snape reassured him, then he turned back to the doctor, "What can he expect in terms of side effects in the first three weeks?"

"Much of the same," Dr. Swanson referenced the other sheet she handed out. It was a list of each medication and the side effects he could experience, "your white blood cell and platelet counts will likely drop again from two of the medications, so you'll be quarantining during this entire phase, then there's the normal nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, mouth sores, and nerve pain which are all things you've seen previously. Irritability, stomach ulcers, and difficulty sleeping are the new side effects you could see specifically from the tablet medication."

"Lovely," Harry mumbled. Sleeping had become difficult lately, but mostly because of everything on his mind. Now he could have another reason to be awake all hours of the night.

"After those three weeks, you'll get a full week off from the 15th of February to the 21st, if everything stays on schedule," Dr. Swanson gave Harry a smile, like this was some kind of prize to him. "That means no IVs, no IT, and no tablets outside of the prophylactics. I hope not to see you at all during that time."

Harry really hoped so too and he was about to get excited at the prospect of a full week off until he remembered a key detail about chemotherapy. Odds were that if he had a break, it was to help his blood counts either rebound from a bad round or build up in preparation for a future worse round. He feared it would be the latter of those.

"After that week, we'll start the repeat of consolidation starting on the 22nd," Dr. Swanson cautiously said. At this, Harry audibly groaned. "You'll do four days of IV chemotherapy starting with an IT and IV of two medications, a one-hour followed by a four hour, on Saturday for five total hours. Then on Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday you'll have one four-hour IV. You get Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday to recover before that same sequence repeats again on the next Saturday thru Tuesday. We'll also be swapping to a different chemotherapy tablet daily through that entire two week period. Since these are the same medications you had in phase one of consolidation, I have a feeling you're aware of those side effects?"

"Yeah," Harry gravely stated, ignoring Snape's overly concerned glare, "It's the hell weeks again. I could never forget those two weeks."

"Unfortunately, those do tend to be the hardest," Dr. Swanson validated his sentiment, making Harry feel a little bit better that it wasn't just him that hated that combination of medications, "unfortunately, all of those medications, including the tablet one, will negatively affect your white blood cell and platelet counts, so I am going to require you to be in hard quarantine for that time frame, given that you live in a boarding school. That means no tutoring, since you won't be in classes anyways, limited visitors and when you do have visitors they, and you, will need to be masked on top of the already implemented full hand washing and sanitizing procedures. I'll work with Professor Snape to make sure your quarters are up to the right standards before you even start those weeks. I saw that you had pneumonia early on in consolidation and I don't want a repeat of that."

He didn't either, however all of that sounded absolutely awful. Harry didn't want to complain out loud in the current company, so he kept that statement to himself. If it were just him and Snape, he probably would have said something; in fact, he still might tell the professor how much he didn't want to do this later, when they were alone.

"The last two weeks," Harry was happy to hear those words from his doctor, "will be relatively easy as you prepare to enter the Maintenance phase. It will be an IV of two medications on the first Saturday, the 8th of March, which is a one hour followed by a three hour, and then the following Saturday is only a one hour IV. That last one is the same medication you've had since the beginning, Vincristine, and the one that you will continue to do monthly in Maintenance."

She stopped and waited for someone to say something, most likely Harry, but after these seven months he really didn't have much to add about it. This was going to be bad, there literally was no way to sugar coat it, if he wanted to. He'd be quarantined for at least eight weeks not even being able to have his tutoring lessons for two of those weeks, which would be difficult.

"What about my magic?" He asked with a tremble to his voice that matched the one in his hands. It was a silly question with everything else going on, but one he felt was important and he preferred to think about instead of how much this felt like he was starting over.

"We'll discuss how to handle that another time," Snape replied, making it sound like the man didn't want to discuss it in the current company. "As for the rest of it, we'll do everything we can to make this as comfortable as possible for you."

The dread filled him up inside. Everyone knew all the words to say, yet no one could really understand how he felt. A muggle cancer patient going through chemotherapy didn't have to deal with the magical core pain, and a magical patient didn't have the soul fragment from Voldemort messing things up. It was like he didn't fit anywhere; his identity was completely independent and therefore no one could say for sure what would or would not help him. So he did what he always did and nodded, trying not to make eye contact with anyone else in the room, but feeling all of their eyes watching him intently.

~~~~SS~~~~

He was worried about Harry; every adult in that room was when everything was said and done. After hearing Dr. Swanson go over what Phase Three would entail - most of which Severus had known, though the fact that he could not attend tutoring during the two rougher weeks, was new to even him - the young Gryffindor was visibly shaken up and trying to hold himself together. Severus had only planned on missing his morning classes, eliciting the help from Lupin to come keep an eye on Harry since the werewolf was in the castle today, however after seeing Harry's reaction he quickly decided to take the rest of the day off.

Once the chemotherapy was completed, and Harry's feeding tube placed once again, the Gryffindor went off to this room with his sphere just in case he needed any help. The last round of treatment had hit Harry unexpectedly hard and the professor assumed this one would be much of the same and he wanted to be ready to help in any way he could.

"Do you need anything, Severus?" Minerva asked. "I can take over for a couple of your classes for tomorrow's treatment if you need me to."

"I'll be just fine, Minerva," he dismissed her worry, then feeling guilty over the cold reaction when she'd been so helpful, he added, "Can you help me keep a close eye on Harry? I have a feeling this will be a particularly bad phase for him."

"I picked up on that," she nodded as she'd said it, "and of course I'll keep a close eye on him. I'm going to see Albus to get his new tutoring ready, I'll keep you updated on what we decide."

"Thank you. I'd appreciate it if you could please ask Albus to floo in when you're done," he replied. "And might I suggest an easier schedule for Harry this time around. I'll leave the details to you, but he'll need something to engage his mind without completely overwhelming him."

"I completely agree," she stood and reached for the schedule of Harry's upcoming treatments. "I'll send Albus down when we're through."

The Defense Professor held his own sphere tightly in his left hand - his lifeline to how the young wizard in the other room was doing - on his way to the kitchen to grab lunch for himself and a smoothie for Harry. As he made the enriched meal supplement, he thought about how differently they were handling this phase, mostly due to the fact that as an Oncologist, Dr. Swanson paid slightly more attention to Harry's overall comfort. Between the stricter quarantine rules, extra pain medication, and the supplemental nutrients starting ten days before phase three, he hoped it would give Harry the extra boost he needed to make it through the next phase.

He lightly knocked on the Gryffindor's door and was surprised when no answer came. It hadn't exactly been long enough since chemotherapy ended for Harry to be asleep yet, but just in case he opened the door slowly, not wanting to wake him. The young wizard was not in his bed - although based on the textbooks lying open on the bedspread he had been working on his assignments - nor was he anywhere else in the moderately sized bedroom. That only left the attached lavatory, where he heard the start of retching coming from the other side of the door. How many rounds of treatment had he gone through already? And yet it didn't make this process any easier almost seven months in compared to the first day he'd found the teen on the floor of the lavatory in Privet Drive.

Carefully opening the door, so as not to accidentally hit Harry since he didn't know where the young wizard would end up after his vomiting, he peeked into the room and found him leaning over the loo breathing heavily. The professor kneeled beside the teen and rubbed small circles around his lower back, a move that he knew helped relax Harry even if they had never actually talked about it.

"I don't know how I'm going to make it through the next phase," Harry said, simultaneously closing his eyes and leaning back against Severus until they were sitting side by side against the back wall beside the door leading back to Harry's room. The Gryffindor rested his head against the professor's shoulder and the older wizard tried not to worry over the shaking in the body beside his own. Drawing his wand, he summoned Harry's red blanket and draped it on top of his frail body.

"There's nothing I can tell you that will make this any easier," he replied honestly, having decided that there was no way he would lie to Harry through this process. "What I ask is that you try to remember that this is temporary, no matter what's coming, you will get through it. Keep reminding yourself that once you finish the next phase it will get easier, far easier than even this phase was. Please try to keep that in the forefront of your mind going into the next eight or nine weeks."

He felt Harry's head nod in the crook of his arm, "What about my magic? I thought I'd be going back to class and able to use it again."

Things were starting to add up a little more now. Harry was not only dealing with the anxiety of the return of the difficult chemotherapy, but also the fact that since he'd learned of the block, he had envisioned a time when he could be back at classes and using his magic. Now he knew that wouldn't happen and he was mourning that loss. Deciding that the cold lavatory floor was not the best place to have this conversation, he helped Harry up off the floor and back into his bedroom, wandlessly moving the school work to the desk, so he could get comfortable in bed.

"You are sure you want to attempt to protect the block?" He asked. "There's no guarantee this will work, but by utilizing your magic you will deplete your primary core at an expedited rate."

Severus needed to make sure Harry was fully aware of the risks involved before they continued down that path. He'd done everything possible to have as many answers as he could to make an informed decision, but there was always a chance that he had been wrong. If that were the case and Harry intentionally drained his magical core, ending up as a squid, he didn't even want to think about how that would alter their relationship.

"Yes," Harry replied as confidently as he had that night in the hospital wing after the potion accident. "I have to try something, otherwise I'll always question it. I pretty much signed up for this knowing I'd lose my magic anyway, so it's not too much of a risk in my mind."

"Very insightful," the professor replied. "Then my suggestion is that you utilize your magic around our quarters, sparingly, during the next phase. That's to say if you need something from another room, you may use your wand to summon it, boil water, light the fireplace, that level of magic, and of course you can use it during your tutoring with your professors only. I'll keep a close watch on how it's going, especially as you get closer to the two rough weeks. If things go as planned, you shouldn't see any accidental magic or the black substance this time around."

Harry looked nervous, "And if I do?"

"Then we'll handle it just as we always do."

Severus stayed in Harry's room until the teenager finally fell asleep sometime after four o'clock in the afternoon. In that time between taking breaks for Harry to sick up, they managed to play some chess, the teen tried to work on his assignments to which Severus told him to stop because he was having too hard of a time focusing, and Harry did some sketching, this time allowing Severus to see his art as he was making it. Eventually, Harry had fallen asleep, still clutching his notebook, and Severus laid him in the bed arranging the bed covers around him.

It had already felt like a long day when he walked out into his sitting room - his arms full of soiled linens he intended to send for cleaning because after all this time, he knew a cleaning charm was never enough to get the acidic smell of vomit out of them - when he saw Albus sitting in the armchair on the right, reading through the professor's lesson plans for next week. He had no one to blame but himself for this current intrusion of his privacy. He had asked Minerva to have Albus stop by, nevertheless that was before the day he'd just had.

"Looks like you have an exciting week planned," the headmaster announced placing the lesson plan back down on the sitting room table in front of him. "Minerva came to see me this afternoon regarding Harry's schedule over the next two months or so. It seems he'll need to go back to tutoring?"

Severus placed the soiled linens into the floo and sent them away to the laundry before settling into the armchair across from Albus.

"That is correct," he confirmed, "Harry will need to be quarantined again from the 25th until mid-March, possibly the beginning of April, depending on how his blood counts end up."

"As I told Minerva, we can keep the same course schedule as he previously had," Albus's blue eyes weren't sparkling; they rarely did these days and Severus wondered what was going on outside of Harry and the Order to cause that. What else was happening within the school to cause such a reaction?

"He needs a lighter schedule, Albus, just enough to keep his mind occupied." It wasn't stated as a request. This was the reality of the situation the young wizard was living in; he would not be able to withstand two tutoring sessions per day, plus evening classes again. Taking a calculated risk Severus then added, "I need a lighter schedule as well."

The older wizard didn't speak immediately, but could be seen thinking through the two requests that had been made to him. Although the headmaster knew all about how he'd come to be there - a conversation that felt like it was too long ago - it still had to be an odd sight to see him and Harry together. Given what he knew from his counterpart's memories, to everyone else it would seem impossible and if he were honest, he was surprised he hadn't been accused of making the child sick.

"How much more flexibility do you need, my boy?"

"As much as you can allow me," he figured he would ask for as much as he could and settle for whatever the headmaster would give him. At the end of the day, the older wizard would have to justify to the Board of Governors why he was staying at the castle without maintaining his teaching post. It was possible, he knew from last year's debacle, but it wouldn't be easy.

"Are there no others that can care for Harry?" Albus squinted his eyes knowingly behind his half-moon spectacles. "It's not healthy for the burden to fall solely on yourself. Perhaps Minerva could be of some assistance or Molly Weasley?"

"It's not the same," he answered honestly. "I'll do what you need me to do, but I would like to be with Harry as much as possible…"

The defense professor trailed off as the now common déjà vu hit him. This was too close to the conversation he'd had with the Albus from his old reality when Harry's cancer had become terminal. He'd requested as much time off as he could get, and ended up completely dropping all of his classes in the end. Refusing to make the obvious connection between the two situations, he found himself questioning if the Albus of this reality would be as generous.

"If you feel comfortable keeping the N.E.W.T courses, I could ask Tonks if she would continue to cover the lower years," his employer suggested. Outside of being excused from all of his courses, this was an ideal situation. He wouldn't have to coordinate days and lesson plans with Tonks, and marking only the older years' work would be easier due to the fact they were already students with a high aptitude for Defense and therefore he'd have less ridiculous mistakes to correct. The only parts he'd need to ask for extra time off would be for the two weeks for Harry's hell weeks. He refused to teach at all during that time, but he could cross the bridge when they got closer to it.

"That will suffice," he accepted the offer. "I'll meet Tonks to hand over the lessons for the classes."

The two wizards sat in a companionable silence with Albus peering around the room and Severus intertwining his fingers in the same fashion he'd noticed Draco and Harry doing as of late.

"Thank you, Albus," he eventually said when the silence overwhelmed him. He was definitely losing his previous spying touch, and it was probably at the worst possible time. How could he protect Harry and Draco if he'd lost his ability to stay ahead of his opponents? He used to pride himself on his awareness and critical thinking and yet somewhere between chemotherapy schedules, battling the Dark Lord, and training their next generation spy, he'd lost some of that skill.

The wizard sitting across from him smiled, a sight that few others truly saw from the man, "You're welcome, Severus. I wish there was more I could do."

That was what everyone said, himself included. They all wished there was more they could do to help Harry get through this, and yet here they were going into the final phase before the elusive Maintenance Phase where things for the Gryffindor would start to stabilize. In that phase, he'd need to learn to live without his magic - hopefully only temporarily - but somehow that seemed like an improvement to where they were currently headed.

~~~~HP~~~~

Friday 24, January 1997

On Fridays, Harry had Transfiguration and Charms classes - one before lunch and the other right after - with Herbology tutoring with Neville in the open period before dinner. Obviously, all his professors had been told that today was his last day physically in class before he started his quarantining for at least the next eight weeks. Therefore, he ended up staying after each class this week to go over his schedule and what he'd be missing during his absence. McGonagall's meeting today was far too sentimental for his liking and Flitwick seemed to not really understand what was going on. It really was a depressing way to end his last week of in person lessons and they only accomplished highlighting how far behind he was already, and that he'd only get further behind as time went on; especially when he couldn't even do tutoring for two of the eight weeks. At some point, he'd have to discuss not finishing the rest of the year with Snape because while he understood the professor's idea to keep his mind busy, it was getting frustrating for him and his professors. Surely between the two of them, they could find some other way for Harry to fill in his idle time.

As far as his actual tutoring was concerned, he was nervous about how this would end up working because Snape had arranged it so he only had one tutoring lesson per day with an official class in the evenings - cutting his tutoring in half - plus the professor was dropping his non-N.E.W.T classes so he could be more available during this time. He also arranged a rotating set of Order members to stay with him during the times he would not be available, leaving zero time the young wizard would be left alone. Harry was grateful for everything the man had been doing and sacrificing for him, but at the same time he was already feeling suffocated by everyone and he hadn't even started yet. Not only that, Harry logically questioned what they would both be doing in their quarters during the day if neither of them had classes to work on.

In an attempt not to think about what tomorrow would bring, his friends had come down to hopefully take his mind off of things after his last dinner in the Great Hall, which went more or less unnoticed. It was now their normal group of Ron, Lavender, Hermione, Draco, and Dudley hanging out in Harry's bedroom. Each official couple was sitting side-by-side on the floor, although Lavender was sitting more in Ron's lap than out of it, leaving Harry on his bed and Dudley at the desk.

"We're totally going to leave you down here to rot, mate," Ron jokingly said, making Harry laugh. Hermione gave him a hard slap across his shoulder. "Ouch, 'Mione, that's my good Quidditch arm!"

"Don't tell him that," she reprimanded the red-head sharply, showing how different his two friends approached the situation. "Harry needs our support right now, and that's counterproductive to that endeavor."

"Seems to me that Harry didn't take nearly as much offense to it as you did," Ron scowled.

It was true. Harry knew it was all in good fun and Ron hadn't meant any harm by it, but that didn't make Hermione feel any better about the situation. Although their continued bickering was amusing to watch, it was the look in Draco's grey eyes that caught Harry's attention. The only Slytherin in their group - to which Harry found himself wondering what house Dudley would be placed in - looked almost jealous at the conflicted interaction between Ron and Hermione. The whole thing made absolutely no sense because why would the other wizard be jealous of his girlfriend fighting with her friend?

Harry tabled that thought for later and turned his focus to the people sitting in his bedroom. They had all taken a part of their night to spend with him on the last night he would be able to have the group over. It filled him with gratitude to have them there and he realized if he could only keep reminding himself that he had all of these people there to support him, he could get through this last major phase without too many issues.

As the night went on, the six friends talked about trivial things: next weekend's Quidditch game which was Slytherin versus Hufflepuff and another one that Harry would miss, Dean and Ginny getting back together much to Ron's chagrin, and everyone's thoughts on Professor Trelawnley's latest row - or as much as the witch could in her almost permanent whimsical state - with Firenze that got so heated over lunch, Dumbledore had to step in and remove them both from the Great Hall. They were all laughing so hard - with the exception of Draco, who only gave a half-hearted chuckle here or there - that none of the teenagers heard the knock on the door causing them all to startle when Snape's head appeared in the doorway. Immediately, as if they were on opposing sides of a magnet, the two couples separated to put a more reasonable distance between the partners.

"Watch the time," Snape reminded the group, "It's almost curfew and you have a busy day tomorrow, Harry."

"That first part doesn't mean much for the prefects," Draco arrogantly replied, gesturing to himself and Hermione.

"It does if your Head of House hears of you abusing that privilege," the professor responded and Harry could have sworn the man was holding back a smirk.

"Fair point," the blonde mumbled as he stood and whipped the imaginary dust from his trousers. Snape left without another word, though he did leave the door opened more than a crack; a move Harry knew to be deliberate. Deeming himself safely from the former spy's earshot - if such a thing existed - Draco added, "He's turning into quite the 'Dad', wouldn't you say?"

"Shove it, Malfoy," Harry joked without any animosity, secretly feeling the same sentiment.

His friends all stood, looking around not sure what to say in a situation where one of them was about to be essentially locked away for weeks on end. It was different when they all arrived at school and Harry was already quarantined. Now it felt awkward, even to him.

"Just go, guys," he waved them off, "I'll be fine and I'll see you in a couple of weeks."

Hermione made the first move, under Draco's watchful eye, by coming up to him and giving him a hug and a small kiss on his cheek before saying, "I'll see you Monday for Transfiguration tutoring."

"Thanks, 'Mione," he whispered in her ear, then watched her go back to Draco's side. His heart was heavy not because he was jealous of the blonde, but because of the normalcy in that simple move.

Dudley, Ron, and Lavender all gave him a wave with a collective and empty promise to "see you soon" before turning around and walking out the door. He likely wouldn't see those three at all during the next phase and that was a hard truth to swallow. Hermione followed the others out, but Draco oddly lingered around Harry's desk.

"I'll see you Tuesday, Potter," the Slytherin eventually said, "I think we start with Defense again."

"I think you're right," Harry replied with a half smile because that was the only time he'd ever admit that to the other wizard. But Draco didn't make a move to leave, instead he uncharacteristically shifted his weight between his feet, "You alright, Draco? You've seemed a little… off tonight."

"Been keeping track of me, have you?"

It was a typical Malfoy answer and one that didn't surprise the Gryffindor in the slightest. Harry thought it looked like Draco wanted to continue, but instead he hung his head and shook it gently - his long platinum blonde hair falling across either side of his face - and followed after Hermione.

Harry stayed up for another half an hour enjoying the calm before tomorrow's treatment started and thinking about his latest interactions with Draco. The other teen had seemed down lately, almost like Harry had when he started classes again back in November, and at this point the Gryffindor assumed it had to do with whatever happened over the Christmas holiday with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. As Harry finally got up and ready for bed - hanging his school robe in his wardrobe the last time for at least the next two months - he came to the conclusion that things were definitely not adding up with the Malfoy heir lately, and whatever it was, it wasn't good at all. He'd still see his Slytherin classmate every Tuesday and Thursday until his hard quarantine, for Defense and Potions tutoring, and he decided that finding out what was going on with the other wizard was the perfect distraction for his brain to focus on instead of the awful chemotherapy he would be doing.