21st May, 1997

"Severus," was the only word Albus Dumbledore could say as he stepped out of the floo in the dungeon quarters of his Potion Master and was not at all surprised to see the disaster in front of him.

The modest sitting room was in shambles. The worn sofa, two armchairs, and coffee table were in place as they should be, but parchment, broken glass, and trinkets littered the floor. Picture frames broken across the room showed the story of the quarter's inhabitants - a raven-haired boy and the Potion Master. Among the destroyed room, on the coffee table were two things in pristine condition. The first was an official document with the Ministry of Magic Department of Children's Services seal and the other a hand written letter on some parchment. Wanting to respect Severus's privacy, Albus simply placed the phial of red liquid he was carrying next to these objects without a single glance at either of them.

He continued to the right down a short hallway where he knew without a doubt he would find Severus. The air was heavy with grief as he approached the cracked door.

"Severus," he repeated as he pushed the door ajar.

The room looked untouched and inviting with its light blue walls, Quidditch posters, and Gryffindor flags showing off the bright personality of the 16 year old boy who once lived here. A desk on the left wall sat next to a door leading to the private lavatory Albus had added when all this started almost exactly a year ago. There were signs of unfinished school work sitting on the desk that would need to be cleaned out. A wardrobe full of muggle clothes, school uniforms, and robes was on the wall flushed with the door.

The picture frames in this room were still upright and intact. Most of them showed three friends growing up from curious 11 and 12-year olds getting back on the Hogwarts Express after their first year, Christmas celebrations throughout the past five years at Hogwarts, the Burrow, and Spinners End, and rambunctious 5th-years celebrating Gryffindor winning the final Quidditch match against Slytherin last year. Ironically, that was the last match Harry would play before his life was turned upside down. Next to the pictures of friends sat the photo album Hagrid had given Harry at the end of his first year. The edges of the pages worn from use, Albus didn't need to open it to know what other family pictures had been added throughout the years.

Albus knew he would find Severus in here; on the bed in the far right corner of the room under the enchanted window showing the sun setting across the black lake.

Severus Snape was still in his black dress robes from earlier that day, his head cradled in his hands propped up on his elbows. Albus knew instantly that he'd made the right decision to be the one to check on the man in front of him. Poppy and Minerva both volunteered to be here, but in the end Albus knew he was the only one who should come.

"I failed him Albus," Severus said, so quietly it was almost unheard, not bothering to even look up. His voice cracking halfway through making it hard to continue. "I was supposed to protect him but I failed."

Taking a deep breath, Severus looked up into the Headmaster's eyes hoping to find anything but pity. Severus had seen enough pity this past year instead he needed answers, he needed a way forward.

Albus took a steady breath. "Ah, but Severus, my boy, you did not fail him. You gave him the one thing no one else had ever given him... A choice."

"This should not have been his decision! I should have pushed harder for what I knew was right," Severus exclaimed slamming his fist onto the small nightstand beside the bed. "How did it get this far?"

"Hindsight has a way of looking crystal clear. You know it was not that simple. Asking a 15 year old boy to possibly give up the magic he'd so recently discovered is not an easy request. We all thought we had a handle on it; that it was under control."

Albus automatically knew which crossroad Severus was thinking back upon. There were so many crossroads this year, but only one had the biggest impact leading them to this exact spot. He was telling the truth that no one could have guessed how quickly the end would come, how suddenly it went from manageable to out of control.

"Severus, you must not blame yourself. Harry would not want you to live with this guilt. We all knew this was a possibility, even Harry did," Albus explained knowing he was speaking to deaf ears. As the sun set lower through the enchanted window, the Potion Master's face became hidden by the shadows. Walking back towards the door Albus said over his shoulder, "Come, let us have some tea."

Back in the sitting room, sitting on the worn sofa the headmaster summoned a tea set and started pouring the tea for himself and Severus. A variety of biscuits were on a plate next to the tea cups. On the table in front stood the phial of red potion and Albus wondered how to bring up this painful topic. With the wave of his wand, the torches came to life providing just enough light to see without making the atmosphere too happy and the room started to clean itself up. Picture frames were pieced back together, parchment placed back on the table in neat piles, blankets folded, and trinkets uprighted.

Severus slowly entered the room after stopping by his bedroom to change out of his dress robes and into his more casual attire of a white button down shirt and black trousers. His face immediately grimaced as he noticed his living room back to its neat and tidy self.

He sighed and sat down in the armchair across from Albus. "You needn't babysit me Albus nor are you mind healer," he finally said, taking the tea cup that was handed to him and sipping carefully to give him something to do besides looking at Albus.

"I would never do such a thing, " Albus replied with a slight smile willing the man in front of him to open up just a little.

Finally, Severus looked up and met the Headmaster's blue eyes peering through his half-moon spectacles. A range of emotions passed for a split second over the pair of black eyes: grief, guilt, anger, and then the mask of indifference he always wore was back up.

Albus took a risk in saying, "It was a beautiful service today. Was Molly Weasley any help with the arrangements? I know she was adamant that you need not handle it on your own."

"Yes, well she refused to leave from my doorway until I let her help. I couldn't very well have her sitting outside my quarters, then anyone would know where to find me," Severus sarcastically replied. "It was helpful to have an extra set of hands," he finally conceded.

As an only child, he was solely responsible for both his parents' funeral arrangements many years ago, but he quickly realized how little regard he had for his parents in the end since those arrangements had not nearly upset him like planning his child's. Severus looked down at the coffee table glancing at the official Ministry of Magic document:

Certificate of Adoption

This document certifies that the minor child

Harry James Potter

born to James and Lily Potter on 31 July, 1980 has been formally adopted by

Mr. Severus Tobias Snape

on 5th of March, 1993 and is officially recognized by the Ministry of Magic Department of Children's Services

Only then did he notice the phial of red liquid sitting next to Harry's adoption certificate. Being one of the top Potions Masters in Europe gave him the advantage of recognizing most potions instantly which is why Severus was puzzled that he could not identify this one. Not wanting to give Albus the upper hand in whatever direction the conversation was headed, he decided to put that observation aside in his mind for later.

"Let's cut the pleasantries Albus, why are you here? It's been a very long day," said Severus just ready to end this visit so he could pour a healthy glass of firewhiskey.

"Why must you think I always have a reason?"

There was a pregnant pause where neither man wanted to give into their curiosity of the other.

"Have you made any decisions yet on your classes? I've offered you the remainder of the year off and I think you should reconsider taking it."

"I don't see the point," Severus replied with a touch of anger and sadness in his voice. "I see no reason why I can't take control of my regular class load again." Now that Harry is gone was left unsaid between them.

Once Harry was diagnosed, he had taken a lighter course load and in his last month when things turned bad he wasn't teaching at all; instead working around the clock to keep Harry as comfortable as possible. Now with neither of those situations, he could use the distraction teaching would give him.

"Simply let me know when you'll be back and what you feel comfortable taking on. It's ok to grieve Severus, the whole school has felt the loss, but losing a friend or student doesn't compare to that of a child," Albus tried not to lecture the man who was as close to him as a son.

The silence was deafening between the two men as neither knew where to go from here. Giving into the silence, Albus continued, "That's not the only reason for my visit, but I must admit I'm not sure how to proceed with what I came to tell you."

"Get it out Albus. No need for theatrics today," Severus felt a migraine coming on and briefly considered a headache draught instead of firewhiskey.

"What if you could redo your biggest decision in life? The catch is that you have the possibility of a whole different world around you and you can't come back," Albus said nervously looking down at the handwritten parchment. "Would it be worth the risk?" Albus's eyes twinkled for the first time since he arrived at the dungeons.

"Don't you dare do this Albus!" Severus yelled. "Of all the days and all the time to even say something so insane you choose now? Today?!" Serverus couldn't believe the person he ever considered a father-figure, a mentor, would say this now.

"Just think about it, Severus," Albus said as he tapped the phial with the red liquid sitting between them. He stood carefully knowing the path he had just set. "Think about it, my boy, and we can talk more tomorrow. Poppy asked me to give you this. She is aware that you likely have it but she wants to make sure it's in front of you tonight," he places another phial, this time of a purple potion, next to the red one which Severus immediately recognized as Dreamless Sleep. He couldn't deny that taking that one was a better idea than not.

As Severus watched the Headmaster floo, presumably back to his office, he picked up the red phial to examine it. Resisting the urge to throw the phial against the wall just to hear it shatter, he placed it back down on the table. This was going to be a thought for another day.

Instead, he summoned a glass of firewhiskey and picked up the parchment with the note written in Harry's handwriting, then settled into his armchair to read it for what must have been the hundredth time since Harry died the previous week.

May 1st, 1997

Dear Dad

Not going to lie, this seems strange to write out a note that you won't read until after I'm gone. So this probably isn't going to be as eloquent as you normally like to see.

Severus took a deep breath feeling a wave of guilt come over him. Of all the things Harry would be thinking to write, he was first worried about letting Severus down.

I want you to know that I don't blame you for what's happening. You made it very clear last June that you thought I should take the muggle medication instead of the magical version. I just couldn't do it and I know you don't understand. What you need to know now is that it's not your fault. It's no one's really, it's just my sheer dumb luck ran out.

Now that's out of the way, I want to thank you. Coming to Hogwarts, I never would have expected things to go like they did. Thank you for being here for me through everything, for giving me a home. It may be small, but we're a family and it's more than I ever would have expected. Thank you for being here with me these last 11 months. It's been hard for you too, I can see that. Thank you for staying with me through it all, the nights I was too sick to sleep, the days I felt well enough to fight over the stupid little things (I seriously don't know why you put up with me sometimes), and especially now that there's nothing left we can do.

I know you never stopped fighting for me. I know you spend nights up researching new potions and trying to find something that would work. I want you to know that I never stopped fighting either. Even now, when I just know the end is coming I'm still fighting for us. I keep thinking, if I could go back and change that decision to go the muggle way, I think I would give it another thought. Does that make me weak? Well, I think it makes me human and that's all I can be.

Severus paused, feeling the tear roll down his cheek. He looked up at the table and stared at the phial of red liquid Albus brought. Could it? Could it really do what Albus alluded to?

You have zero reason to trust me on this but you'll be ok. You'll survive this when I'm gone. Yes it will be hard, but please don't sit away in our quarters. Go to the great Hall for meals, have tea with Professor McGonagall, or if you really need a pick-me-up invite Ron for some chess! Ok, I'm joking on that last one, but just get out that part I'm serious about. I know I don't say this enough, but I love you. I'm going to miss you Dad.

Love your son,

Harry

As he reached the end of the letter, Severus finished off his glass of firewhiskey, stood, and threw the glass at the wall. As it shattered, he looked down at the 2 phials on the table in front of him. Picking up the Dreamless Sleep Potion, he paced nervously in front of the fireplace knowing he could take the potion and fall blissfully into sleep.

He passed the phial between his hands. He looked up from it to see a photograph sitting on the fireplace mantle, back in one piece courtesy of Albus. The photograph was of him with 12 year old Harry, taken the day the adoption was finalized. Harry's smile couldn't be any bigger. Severus closed his eyes and thought back to that day. He instantly remembered how nervous he was as they went through the final interviews. It had been difficult several months to get to that point and he was sure he would say the exact thing to ruin it all. He remembered like it was yesterday, when they gave him the quill for his final signature and just like that, Harry was his son.

This was before... Before the diagnosis at the end of Harry's 5th year. Before Severus learned that these strong muggle medications can start to erase the magical signature of a young wizard. Before those words took over their life. Leukemia. Cancer.

Severus opened his eyes, looked down at the Dreamless Sleep and a split second later threw the phial against the same wall as his firewhiskey glass. He then stormed off to his bedroom hoping to dream of his son just to see him one more time.

To his great surprise, Severus fell asleep quickly that night and was brought into a series of memories. The first was after 5th year potions class last year.

"Dad, I'm sure it's nothing," Harry complained as he pulled his arm out of Severus's grasp. "Clearly I got hit by something during the match last week, it's no big deal." It had been 4 days since the Gryffindor Quidditch team beat Slytherin in the final match and several of the bruises were not only still present but at least 3 new bruises had shown up without Harry knowing where they came from. As much as Severus wanted to brush it off, his intuition was telling him something was wrong."I really don't care what you think about it, you need to go back to the hospital wing. This is not a normal reaction for an injury like this," Severus lectured. He really hated the Gryffindor attitude Harry favored. Even though Harry hadn't needed to take care of himself by himself in the past 4 years, it was still a reaction ingrained in him from his early neglected childhood. "I'll write you a note to excuse your next class, but you are to go straight to Madam Pomfrey and have her check it. I'll know if you've been there or not. "

Severus tossed and turned as the memory changed now to a small room at St. Mungo's.

Harry was sitting on the small exam table waiting to hear what the Healer was going to tell them. Madam Pomfrey couldn't find anything that would cause the Quidditch bruises to last as long as they were. Five days and 2 massive nosebleeds later, Harry was back in the Hospital Wing this time with Severus by his side. When Madam Pomfrey still couldn't find a cause, they were sent to a Healer at St. Mungo's, hopefully for some answers."I'm sure it's nothing Dad. People get nosebleeds all the time," Harry said only half believing it as the Healer came back into the room.

Everything got fuzzy around the dream as Severus's anxiety increased, knowing what was about to happen Only select words could be heard from the Healer around the room "Leukemia... Cancer in his blood... Very rare for a wizard... Two treatment options... Chemotherapy is what muggles use... specialty wizard potions, but they're untested." Severus looked over at Harry and knew he'd never forget fear in those piercing emerald eyes...

Suddenly the dream went dark, so dark Severus couldn't see his hand in front of him. Starting to worry, he heard Harry's voice coming from the air above him, "It's my life we're talking about! I should have a say in it!"... "You're still a child, at the end of the day the decision is mine and I don't think risking your life is worth it!" He heard himself say knowing exactly what this conversation was. This was the infamous crossroad, they had no idea the impact this decision would make. "I know you don't want to hear it, but the possibility of losing your magical signature is absolutely better then losing your life. You're doing the chemotherapy." As he listened to the argument he realized that was his mistake. He should have discussed, not demanded. Maybe then, Harry would have seen his anger had come from his concern."Absolutely not!" Harry yelled. "I'll refuse. You can't seriously think everyone will be ok with you forcefully taking me when I'm almost 16 years old. Seriously, you're a renowned potion master if anyone can beat this with potions you can." In the end, Severus didn't sleep the night after that argument. Instead he spent every minute researching and finally finding something he thought could work. Only it didn't work in the end. Sure, things seemed positive the first 3 months and then they made adjustments and again things were going well for another 6 months until all of sudden it wasn't. At that point, things were too far gone to fix.

The scene changed to Harry's bedroom in their dungeon quarters. Harry was laying underneath the green bedspread, it was his absolute favorite because of how soft and plush it was. Severus was sitting in a comfortable armchair next to the bed watching Harry closely... Waiting, not daring to move. The enchanted window showed a crescent moon over the lake. Very calm, the exact opposite of what Severus felt inside. Memory Severus turned around when he heard the door open and saw Sirius and Molly approach the bed. Playing out like a silent movie was fine because Severus knew what was said. This happened only last week and was one of the worst days of Severus's life, even worse than when he heard that Lily died. Molly asked how Harry was and if Severus needed anything placing her hand comfortingly on his shoulder, but in the end they all just stood by, watching and waiting for the inevitable...

Severus suddenly woke up, his head pounding and his heart racing, a slight sweat building up on his forehead, instantly regretting the decision to not take the Dreamless Sleep last night. It took a minute for his head to clear enough to realize he was in his bedroom in his Hogwarts quarters. The events from the last 24 hours hit him hard as a wave of grief passed through him. Deciding he was not going to be able to go back to sleep, he got up to shower and get ready for the day.

He almost didn't know what to do when he entered the kitchen 30 minutes later. There were no potions to prepare, no special breakfast to make, no one to check on. If he tried hard enough, he could almost imagine that it was a normal Thursday before all this happened and Harry was simply up in Gryffindor tower sleeping amongst the other 6th-year boys.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, a morning ritual he started after late nights sitting up with Harry that he could never see dropping, he sat down at the small table with the latest Potions journal to start catching up on news he missed. Not being able to focus, he summoned some parchment, a quill, and ink bottle to start the list of things that needed to be done before he started classes again on Monday:

- Meet with Headmaster about Monday

- Meet with Slughorn about class syllabus'

- Inventory ingredients

- Diagon Alley to replenish as needed

- Clean out office

- Clean out Harry's room

Rubbing his hand down his face, he then crossed off the last one. He couldn't do that yet. Committing to at least start it before he went back to teaching classes, he considered asking Ron and Hermione if they'd like to take a look through it first. With another hard sigh he decided that as much as he hated to admit it, Sirius should also stop by to look through it.

The enchanted window at the far end of the sitting room showed the first rays of sun peeking into the sky. If he wanted to, he could head up to the Great Hall for breakfast. Harry's letter about not isolating himself in his quarters rang through his ears and he resisted the urge to order breakfast from the house elves. He stood up, cleaned out his coffee cup the muggle way just for something to keep his mind busy and then walked out his door heading towards the Great Hall. He just wanted to get this over with.

Severus was happy to see that this early on a Thursday, the Great Hall was mostly empty. Draco Malfoy was sitting alone at the Slytherin table as he had always been an early riser. A couple Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs came strolling in as he took his seat at the head table trying his best to avoid glancing towards the Gryffindor table. If he did that, his imaginary world of Harry simply sleeping in his tower would shatter even though Harry would never be up before 7am.

Sitting to his left was Minerva McGonagall and she didn't even try to hide her look of concern.

"Good morning Severus," she greeted him trying her best to sound like it was a normal day. "I didn't get to tell you yesterday, but everything was beautiful," she paused as she caught his warning eyes. "Have you reconsidered Albus' offer to take the rest of the year off?"

"I will not be taking much more time off. In fact, I'm going to speak with the Headmaster this morning about my return on Monday. The only reason I'm not back today is to give me time to speak with Slughorn," he tried not to sound angry with her. He understood she was trying to help and he's never had any issues with Minerva in the past but navigating through this new reality was bound to take some adjusting for everyone.

He filled his plate with porridge, fruit, and yoghurt as the noise in the Great Hall started to increase with students arriving to start their normal day. With the school year coming to an end, students would be talking about end-of-year exams, O.W.L.s and N.E. already completed, and summer plans. Maybe it's time to sell the house on Spinner's End?' he thought as he was contemplating his own summer plans, Harry was the only reason I kept it. I don't know what he loved about that house so much.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the headmaster sitting down on the other side of Minerva already in conversation. "... excused Mr. Weasley and Miss. Granger for today," the Headmaster said to Minerva. Severus could only assume he was giving Ron Hermione an excused absence.

"Hello Severus, it's nice to see you out and about this morning," Albus greeted much too cheerfully for Severus's mood even if this were any other normal day.

"Hello Albus. I need to speak with you this morning," Severus got to the point seeing no need to drag on the inevitable. "It's about my schedule for the rest of the year."

"I'm going to assume you haven't decided to take more time off," he said nonchalantly. "All the better for us, I guess. Not that the students would say so. I imagine they're quite enjoying Horace's level of work. Stop by my office after breakfast if that works for you."

Severus just barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his mentor. "Of course," he simply said.

"Oh and Severus, I think we should continue discussing that matter I mentioned yesterday... the red potion?"

"No, we absolutely won't!" He yelled looking around as all eyes in the Great Hall were now focused on him.

Having deemed himself in the presence of people for an appropriate amount of time and wanting to cool off before meeting Albus in his office, he stood to leave. In doing so, he looked straight ahead just as Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were walking in for breakfast. He met their eyes and got lost in the grief on their faces. Taking a deep breath, he turned and walked out the staff doorway, conveniently he wouldn't have to pass by the group of Gryffindors.

An hour later, after taking a brisk walk outside to clear his head, Severus was heading towards the Headmaster's office. He had decided to stop by his quarters to grab the phial of red potion with every intention of returning it.

"Sugar Quills," Severus said and the stone gargoyle stepped aside. Riding the circular stairs up he was determined not to put up with any of the Headmaster's meddling. He reached the outer door and knocked.

"Come in Severus," he heard from the other side.

Entering the office he confidently took a seat in the single chair across from Albus who was sitting proudly at his desk.

Wanting to get this over with and move on Severus said, "I'll be picking up all my classes again on Monday. I just need to sit down with Slughorn after he's done with his last one today so I'm up to date on their work. I may need to replenish my ingredients to my standards this weekend but I don't foresee any issues coming up that would prevent me from working Monday," he clinically explained.

After a second he added, "Thank you for the flexibility this year, especially the last month or so. It was much appreciated to be able to help as much as Harry needed it and keep him here which is more comfortable than Spinners End."

Albus gave himself a couple seconds to gather his thoughts, looking deeply at the man in front of him wondering how it's possible someone so young could already have suffered through all he has.

"Severus," he started treading carefully through this conversation. "I applaud your ability to just jump back in and I stand by my statement that we'll all be happy to have you back in front of the classes," he didn't miss the small hmph that escaped Severus's mouth at that statement. "If you need anything, my boy, just say the word. And no need to thank me, I just wish there was more we could do. The world lost a good young man far too soon."

He paused to give Severus time to react hoping he could finally get through to him. When nothing else was said he continued, "Sirius is here and wants to stop by your quarters today before leaving. He's visiting with Minerva during her free periods. If you don't get a chance to see him, I'm sure he'll stop by your quarters before heading out."

"I'll be sure to be on the lookout for him," Severus said sarcastically, pulling out the phial of red potion from his robes. "I don't know what this is, but you can have it back."

"Ah, I'm glad you brought this up! I'll be honest with you, I wasn't sure how to approach the subject again myself, " Albus said as he met Severus's eyes. "Aren't you a little bit curious, if for no other reason than just for professional exploration?"

A small hiss escaped the potions professor's mouth, "If you think enticing me with academia will make me open whatever you think this is, you've really lost it."

"I'm just trying to give you an option and open your eyes to a possibility you could never have thought existed," Albus explained whimsically. "All I ask is 10 minutes Severus. If after I'm through you want to walk away, then there is no harm. But just think, what if what I'm going to tell you helps to heal that pain deep inside you. That pain you never knew could even happen."

Severus wanted to walk away, but he sat there thinking hard about the consequences of staying. Could it really do anymore harm?

"You have 5 minutes to tell me what this is and why I shouldn't immediately shatter that phial. It has dark magic written all over it." Eyeing the phial with a grimace on his face but never one to turn away from a puzzle.

"That's all I ask," Albus said looking over his half-moon spectacles. "I've made some mistakes in my long life, Severus, plenty that I wish I could change. One such mistake led me on a search to see if anyone has developed a way to do so.

"That search brought me to many wise witches and wizards. Given my brief time constraint you're requiring, if you'd like more information on my search just let me know it would be a lovely story to tell over tea," Albus paused for dramatic effect and this time Severus couldn't resist the eye roll.

"What you need to know is that this potion can do that for you. It can allow you to change that moment in time when you can most impact the outcome. Isn't that what you want?" This time Albus's eyes twinkled ferociously at Severus's black eyes. "All you need is one drop of blood from the person who will use it. And then of course to drink it."

The Potion Master looked down, his long black hair covering his face. This is absolutely insane. I can't honestly consider this. He argued to himself.

After a minute in silence, he finally asked, "And what are the effects, should I be considering this wild idea?"

"Again, it's not widely known but you can't undo the decision and you won't know what the new world will be like until you're there," Albus replied giving a small smile. "Just hold onto this phial, you deserve it much more than I."

Albus held out the phial and with a slight pause, Severus took it, stood up, and promptly left the office.

Back in his quarters, Severus took off his robes and hung them by the door. He walked into the sitting room and placed the phial back on the table in front of the worn sofa.

Staring at the sofa he was brought into one of the many memories of Harry asleep on that same sofa. On nights when the pain was at its worst, they would come out to the living room and play chess regardless of the time. Harry had gotten extremely good at the game after countless nights playing. Eventually, Harry's eyes would grow heavy with sleep and he would then fall asleep on this sofa until the afternoon if he was lucky.

Trying to shake that memory away, Severus sat down on the sofa and unbuttoned the sleeves of his white button-down shirt and rolled the sleeves up. All of sudden he felt too claustrophobic in the sitting room. He closed his eyes trying to focus on his occlumency shields to help calm the thoughts in his mind. Lately, that was the only way he was still functioning; by pushing the intrusive thoughts as far away in his mind as he could.

Unfortunately, this time he just couldn't do it. With his elbows propped on his knees, his head cradled in his hands he couldn't stop the tears from falling. His heart felt like it was literally breaking apart and like the tears, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't keep the sobs away. Feeling like he couldn't draw in enough air to satisfy his lungs, he broke down with gut wrenching sobs.

After feeling completely raw and wanting to find something else to do, he stood up and walked to the fireplace. Hanging his head low, he picked up the picture to the left of the one from Harry's adoption day. The one showed the messy-haired teenager on his 15th birthday. He had a party at the Burrow a couple days after this photograph was taken, but this one was from the small gathering they had at their Spinners End home with Sirius Remus on his actual birthday.

In front of the Harry in this picture was a small cupcake with a single candle on it. Harry had a wide smile on his face because he was just happy to have people around to celebrate. Severus realized almost immediately after taking guardianship of Harry the summer after 1st year, he preferred smaller gatherings and therefore always had just a small celebration on his actual birthday. It started as just the two of them and then grew to include Remus before his 3rd year, and then grudgingly Sirius too when he was proven innocent of his crimes in the summer before 4th year. Severus watched the picture as Harry blew out the candle.

He could remember it like it was yesterday. The smell of Harry's favorite meal they had just finished, the sounds of laughter as Sirius, in his immature fashion, pushed the cupcake into Harry's face as he was about to eat it, and the sight of Harry just so relaxed, safe, and happy.

He fell to his knees in despair and all of a sudden the glass on the frame shattered. Unsure if it was from uncontrolled magic or just gripping too hard - and then realizing it didn't matter - he looked down to see the large, deep cut across his palm, the blood starting to pool on his open hand. This is too easy he thought as the Headmaster's words rang through his head

All you need is one drop of blood from the person who will use it. And then of course to drink it.

Looking down at his injured bleeding hand a million thoughts went through his mind - nothing good can come of this. I gave up the dark arts years ago, it's only ruined my life. Why would this be any different? But then Albus never said it was dark arts, he never said it wasn't either though. How could this not be considered dark magic?

Later, he would look back at this as a moment of weakness, but standing in his quarters feeling like he had no way forward, he put down what was left of the picture frame and picked up the phial. Removing the cork carefully, he held his hand over the phial and watched as a drop of blood hit the surface of the red potion with a sizzle and it started to smoke. All I have to do is drink this and I'll get my second chance. It's that easy. What else do I have here? Lily's gone, Harry's gone, I have nothing left.

He carefully held the potion to his lips and tipped it back so the surprisingly smooth liquid poured into his mouth. He was caught off guard on how awful such a smooth potion could taste. Swallowing quickly, he coughed and suddenly felt like fire was erupting from his stomach. Serves me right to die after drinking an unknown potion, I know better than this.

As quickly as the pain started, it stopped and Severus stood in front of the fireplace scared to even breathe. What was supposed to happen? Would he turn around and be back in time? How does this work exactly? How could he not ask something as simple as that?!

He jumped as he heard a knock at the door.

"I know you're in there Severus!" Came the annoying voice of one, Sirius Black, through the heavily warded door.

Looking around the sitting room, nothing was out of place. The broken picture and frame was still on the floor where he had dropped it. Even the broken glass of firewhiskey and phial of Dreamless Sleep were still there from the night before. With a wave of his ebony wand, the glass was banished to the rubbish bin and the picture frame repaired for the second time in as many days.

"Give me a minute!" He yelled back at the door. He wanted to be sure nothing had actually happened before opening the door and dealing with the one person he absolutely didn't want to see that day.

Grabbing a nearby quill, he transfigured it into a bandage and quickly wrapped his still bleeding hand. He walked briskly towards his room, peeking into Harry's room and not finding anything out of place, everything exactly the same as he left it that morning. Walking into the kitchen, again not seeing anything different than before, he started to question the sanity of Albus Dumbledore. Obviously the potion didn't work as expected and there was no way he was going to admit such to the Headmaster. He shouldn't have drank the stupid thing anyways.

"Would you open this door now?! I've been out here for ages!" Sirius screamed on the other side of the door.

"You are fine," Severus called out as he opened the door and stepped to the side allowing Sirius into his quarters. "What can I do for you Black?"

"Not much, I was in the area and thought it'd be kind of rude of me not to stop by," Sirius said while walking into the kitchen and sitting at the small table. "I thought we could, you know, have lunch or something?"

As a spy in his previous profession, Severus could see right through Sirius's lie. He could see the uneasiness in Sirius's eyes and knew the real reason was because he had spent every day in the dungeons until last week and he didn't know what else to do. This was the ultimate confirmation that the red potion changed absolutely nothing. He couldn't help but feel disappointed.

"I'll order some sandwiches," Severus finally conceded. After the failed red potion, he figured he could use the distraction as well. He turned around to head back to the sitting room and the floo to order lunch.

Two hours later, after eating their turkey sandwiches, crisps, fruit, and tea, both men moved into the sitting room for a glass of firewhiskey.

"So, when are you going back to classes?" Sirius asked after they had discussed every other innocuous topic.

Severus sighed, "Monday. I'm scheduled for a quick discussion with Slughorn tonight and then I'll jump back in first thing Monday morning."

"What about this summer? Any big plans?" Another questionably safe topic but definitely skirting the line.

"I've got some research projects to finish to maintain my Potions Mastery that were put on hold last summer and I thought about getting the house ready to sell," he said honestly, not really sure why he was telling this to Sirius Black of all people.

"Oh, well... It sounds like you've got a good plan in place," Sirius looked down trying not to sound as pathetic as he thought he must. "I'm not sure what to do," he said honestly. "It's not like Harry lived with me or anything, but most of the small amount of time I've known him..." Sirius paused off having broken the seal on the taboo topic.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. No, this is not the conversation I want to have with him.

"Maybe... Oh I don't know!" He finally yelled much harsher than he expected. While the subject had been broached, he said "I'm going to start looking through Harry's room this weekend. I can't help with your summer plans, but I wouldn't turn you away if you wanted to stop by and help. Same goes for Spinners End once term is over here." There... He'd said it.

Sirius took a large sip of his firewhiskey, "Um... Yeah, that'd be great. Thank you... for everything."

They both sat there in silence, neither attempting to look the other in the eye sipping their glasses of firewhiskey.

By the time Severus made it back to his quarters that night, after dinner and his meeting with Slughorn, he thought it had to be one of the longest days of his life. He knew it actually wasn't, by far, but he was more than ready to go to sleep. Getting into his sensible black pyjamas, he searched his cabinets for Dreamless Sleep knowing that it would be needed tonight.

After an extensive search and finding none, he remembered that all his portions were in Harry's room. Why can't at least one thing today be easy he questioned angrily heading out of his room into Harry's. Trying not to look around, he went to the lavatory and searched through the variety of potions until he came to the familiar purple one. The addictive qualities of the Dreamless Sleep didn't matter much for Harry in the end when they were only making sure he was as comfortable as possible, especially to sleep.

Grabbing the phial and opening it in one swift movement, he brought it to his lips and drank it. He looked around, shook his head in defeat and walked out making it only as far as Harry's four poster bed. Climbing into the bed, right on top of the green plush bedspread, his head nestled on the soft pillow, he promptly fell asleep.

Disclaimer:Since this chapter puts us back into canon, the italics at the beginning are all from the books and belong to J.K. Rowling, with a few edits for the different POV.

~~~~SS~~~~

A thick red mist surrounded Severus in his dreams that night. Severus was oddly aware of his presence in the mist. As it separated, he could now see the scene in front of him, red mist only lingering along the edges, top, and bottom.

He looked around and saw he was in his potions classroom. In front of him was a class of first years, faces so eager he knew this had to be their first day. Sitting in front of him was eleven year old Harry. Severus realized he must be viewing a memory.

"Ah, Yes," he heard himself say softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Severus tossed and turned, feeling his anxiety start to rise. He always regretted how he had treated Harry in that first term. He didn't start really seeing Harry until the Christmas holiday break.

The red mist took over again and when it opened, Severus and Albus were standing at the Yule Ball

"Well?" murmured Albus.

"Karkaroff's Mark is becoming darker too. He is panicking, he fears retribution; you know how much help he gave the Ministry after the Dark Lord fell." Severus looked sideways at Albus's profile. "Karkaroff intends to flee if the Mark burns."

"Does he?" said Albus softly, as Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies came giggling in from the grounds. "And are you tempted to join him?"

"No," said Severus, his black eyes on Fleur's and Roger's retreating figures. "I am not such a coward."

Watching the scene play out, the real Severus was extremely confused. That never happened, how could this be a memory?

This time the red mist came in quickly and exited just as fast and he was now standing in the hospital wing with Harry, looking about 15, laying on one of the beds clearly injured. In front of him was himself speaking to Albus again.

"Severus," said Albus, turning to the memory-Severus, "you know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready. . . if you are prepared. . . "

"I am," said memory-Severus looking slightly paler than usual, and his cold, black eyes glittering strangely.

Severus started thrashing around the bed, tangling himself up in the bedspread.

The mist returned and at this point Severus was getting angry. Something strange was definitely going on. When the mist opened, he was in his office with Harry who looked only slightly older than the last memory - he called them that only because he knew he couldn't be dreaming. A quick series of scenes flashed.

Harry was on his knees, his face buried in his hands as if his brain ached.

"Get up!" said memory-Severus sharply. "Get up! You are not trying, you are making no effort. You are allowing me access to memories you fear, handing me weapons!"

Then suddenly without leaving the office the scene slightly changed. It was still Harry and Severus, but clearly a different time frame.

"That is just as well, Potter," said memory-Severus coldly, "because you are neither special nor important, and it is not up to you to find out what the Dark Lord is saying to his Death Eaters."

"No-that's your job, isn't it?" Harry shot at him.

For a long moment they stared at each other and a curious, almost satisfied expression crossed memory-Severus's face when he answered.

"Yes, Potter," he said, his eyes glinting. "That is my job."

Now Severus was completely confused, Potter? he thought to himself, why did I call Harry "Potter"?

The mist completely covered and when it finally cleared, Severus was happy to see it thin out, almost completely gone. Hopefully this meant whatever he was stuck in was almost over.

Opening up, Severus found himself in an office he didn't recognize. The walls were coated in pink with pictures of cats covering them. The scene in front of him was more confusing than any of the others. A toad-like woman, dressed head to toe in pink, that he didn't recognize, was standing there talking with the memory-Severus as if she had some kind of authority over him. Around the room Harry's friends were being held by his own Slytherins.

And then out of almost nowhere, Harry spoke to the memory-Severus, "He's got Padfoot!" Harry shouted. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

Memory-Severus had stopped with his hand on the door handle.

"Padfoot?" cried the toad-like woman, looking eagerly from Harry to memory-Severus. "What is Padfoot? Where what is hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

Memory-Severus looked round at Harry. His face was inscrutable.

"I have no idea," said memory-Severus coldly. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me I shall give you a Babbling Beverage... " And then everything went pitch black.

Severus jumped up out of bed so fast he nearly tumbled to the floor. Covered in sweat he tried to rationalize what he had just experienced. Those couldn't have been dreams, I took Dreamless Sleep last night. Maybe it was a bad batch he thought as he finally looked around at his surroundings.

How did I get to my bedroom?

He remembered falling asleep in Harry's bedroom, on top of his favorite green bedspread, and yet he was definitely now in his room, in his own bed.

Taking a breath to clear his mind, he got up and walked to his lavatory. Looking at himself in the mirror, he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. Doing a quick double take he looked down at his hands, yes something was different, his hands were trembling. It's probably just adrenaline from whatever that was last night, but again intuition took over and he knew it felt like the reaction to the Cruciatus curse. Tabling that thought in his mind, he continued on with getting ready for the day.

He was exiting the bedroom 45 minutes later in his casual attire feeling better now that he was more removed from the strange dream-memories. Unfortunately, that only lasted 15 seconds until he crossed the hallway towards the kitchen and noticed only 1 door on the left instead of the normal two. Anger flashed across his eyes when he realized the missing door was to Harry's room.

What the hell was Albus thinking?! Did he really remove Harry's room? Without at least consulting me first?

Fire burning in his mind and ready to have it out with the Headmaster first thing this morning, he continued into the sitting room towards the floo. Stopping dead in his tracks, he gasped as he looked around. There was the sofa, two arms chairs, and table where he remembered them, but instead of the comfortable worn sofa Harry had taken to sleeping on, there was a more modern one. On the coffee table, parchment was scattered as if he had been doing last minute marking for classes - in past years, as term was coming to an end, he preferred marking in the sitting room instead of his office. Would Slughorn really want him to start marking his end of year work? Even if he did, how would he have started already? He could clearly see his red handwriting on the top essay. The room looked as if he had left in a hurry whenever that was and it was definitely not the same room he was in the night previous.

The biggest change of all, and the one that finally removed his anger and replaced it with intense grief, was that every picture of Harry was missing. Falling to his knees yet again, he tried to imagine why this was happening. Feeling completely defeated, he sat on the floor trying to work through what had happened and how he could fix it.

After roughly 5 minutes on the floor, he determined he had to be asleep. There was no other way to explain everything that he'd seen that morning. Of course, everything felt far too real to be a dream, but that was the only logical explanation. Using the table to help himself stand up, he stopped immediately when he saw the date 19.06.96 That's impossible, he thought to himself. How could a whole month have passed without his knowledge? If it did somehow, because he didn't know what else to think, is that why all of Harry's things are gone? Had he packed them all away and reverted his quarters back to the pre-Harry configuration and not remembered?

Deciding he needed some answers, he got up and stormed to his door. Grabbing his robes, he thrust the door open and exited his quarters deciding that breakfast in the Great Hall was as good a place as any to start getting them.

Entering the Great Hall, everything looked and seemed normal. The hall was lively with student chatter as everyone was excited for the last week of term. Severus carefully took his seat to the right of Minerva who was in deep conversation with Albus. Not wanting to appear suspicious, he decided he needed to wait until their conversation was completed.

He was just about to serve himself some breakfast when he felt a tap on his right shoulder. Turning around, he saw Poppy waiting behind him with a phial of what he instantly recognized as Nerve Regenerative Potion.

"Oh Severus," she said, clicking her tongue. "I'm so glad to see you this morning! I expected you to stop by last night and was already worrying myself on what could have happened should you not be here this morning."

Severus noticed the worry in her eyes as she handed him the phial. "I can see you need this," she said looking down at his trembling hands. Leaning in she whispered, "I keep telling Albus that it's not worth it. Whatever you think you owe him, it's not worth what you have to go through." She squeezed his shoulder.

Severus rolled his eyes as his head started aching. Imagines of the Dark Lord flashed across his eyes and he was all of a sudden aware that the Dark Lord was angry with him about not being somewhere. That can't be right, the Dark Lord has not returned.

"Thank you Poppy," was all he could think to say.

"Oh Severus!" He heard Minerva say too loudly into his ear, clearly upset, and he had the sudden urge to ignore whatever it was she wanted to tell him. "It's unfortunate we have to have this conversation, but if you could please cease your antagonistic remarks to Mr. Potter, I would be much appreciative."

He jerked his head back as if he had just been slapped. Stop my what? Trying to keep his breathing normal he replied, "I assure you, I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about."

"Don't give me that Severus. The poor boy has suffered enough, he doesn't need your apparent gloating on top of it," she huffed. "All I ask is that you hold any further remarks until next year. And yes, before you question me, I am assuming Mr. Potter will receive an Outstanding on his potion O.W.L. to make your class next year. His ambition is to be an Auror you know."

Now she had his full attention. There was so much wrong with her statements that he didn't know where to start. Why is she calling Harry "Mr. Potter" to him? All the professors called him "Harry" once Severus took over his guardianship and was responsible for his grades and disciplinary records.

Then there was the fact that Harry took his O.W.L.s last year and while it took a lot of extra studying on both their parts throughout the year, Harry had received an O mark on his potions exam and was in Severus's N.E.W.T. class, at least until it became too much for either of them to handle. And that all was, of course, ignoring the bigger issue that Harry had been buried 2 days ago... Or a month ago, depending on whatever Severus believed was going on.

As he was about to question Minerva about whatever nonsense she was rattling about, his eye caught sight of the Gryffindor table beyond her and he heard himself audibly gasp. Sitting at the table, alone and sullen, in his full Gryffindor uniform, was Harry.

He needed answers right now.

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall alone in his thoughts. He didn't care what anyone else said, it was his fault Sirius died at the Department of Mysteries just like it was his fault his friends had been so badly injured. Adding the whole prophecy issue and he really just wanted to leave. Even being at the Dursley's would be better than the constant reminders Hogwarts gives him.

Pushing his breakfast around, he felt an elbow jab him in the ribs.

"What did ya do to Professor Snape?" Dean said warningly. " He's starin' at you like he's seen a ghost."

Harry looked up at the head table and sure enough Snape was staring right at him looking like he was about to storm over and strangle him.

"Does that really surprise you?" Harry commented nonchalantly. "I just breathe and he wants to kill me."

Looking back up, Snape was still staring at him, his face paler than normal, looking like Harry was a puzzle to be solved. As he saw Snape stand up, Harry collected his stuff determined to get out of there before his most hated professor could approach him.

Of course, Harry wasn't that lucky this morning and instead he heard, "Please stop by my office this morning Ha - Mr. Potter."

Harry looked up to see Snape eyeing him like he was planning which parts of Harry he could use as potions ingredients.

"Erm... I have History of Magic this morning," was the only thing Harry could think to say.

Anger flashed through Snape's black eyes as they peered into Harry's emerald ones. Harry gulped back his own anger and fear.

"I didn't ask what your first class was, I asked you to stop by my office," was all Snape said as he walked away.

"Rott'n luck," said Dean going back to his breakfast.

~~~~SS~~~~

A half hour later, Severus was sitting at his desk in his office trying to stay patient when it was obvious Harry ignored his request to meet him. Trying to sort through everything he knew, his headache growing by the second, he looked down at a set of exams on the desktop - specifically the date. Written in the corner was 17.06.96 which caused Severus to question what the actual date was today.

There was a knock on his door breaking his concentration.

"Come in," he demanded angrily assuming it was Harry finally deciding to show up.

Instead, it was one of his Slytherins who entered and cautiously said, "Sir, everyone is in the classroom and wondering if you were coming or not."

"Shit," Severus quietly swore. Clearly he'd seen all the kids wearing school robes at breakfast so it was a school day. "Class is cancelled today. As a 7th year at the end of term, if you haven't learned it by now there's no point in wasting anyone's time..."

He paused thinking really hard about whom he was talking to. This was Quintin Sarquell who would have graduated last year. Combining that with what Minerva said about Harry having just taken his O.W.L.s caused everything to start falling into place.

"What's the date today?" He asked with more panic in his voice than he'd hoped.

"Um... sir?" Quintin asked. "It's Monday June 24th."

"And the year?" Severus was getting impatient as the wheels in his head started turning. He'd gone back in time, that much was already obvious although he was embarrassed to admit it took this long to figure it out.

"Uh, 1996. Is everything ok sir?" He now sounded worried. "Do you need me to get Madam Pomfrey?"

"Not at all. You're dismissed and class is cancelled for today," Severus said with authority, then watched Quintin tentatively leave.

That solves one piece of the puzzle. Clearly the red potion did something.

He worked through in his head. But if it was June 24th, he already missed Harry's diagnosis and start of treatment since that had happened earlier in June.

Unless he hasn't been diagnosed yet he reasoned with himself as another thought crept into his mind.

Something was different with their relationship. He woke up this morning with no trace of Harry in his quarters like he'd expected to see. Minerva was colder with him regarding his interactions with Harry, and then there was Harry's response to seeing him at the Gryffindor table. Things weren't adding up. His stomach dropped as the final puzzle piece locked into place.

Unless... He said to himself as pain erupted through his head giving him all the missing memories from the past 5 years. Notably missing was the one where he discovered Harry's abuse from his relatives which had triggered him taking guardianship and the start of a completely different lifetime.

~~~~HP~~~~

"Did you guys hear the great news!" Ron exclaimed as he sat down next to Harry at lunch. " Snape cancelled all his classes today! We have a free double period this afternoon."

"That's concerning Ronald," Hermione lectured. "Professor Snape has never cancelled class before. Something pretty big must be going on." She sounded more concerned than Harry thought she ought to.

"Well, whatever it is that greasy git won't be getting any sympathy from me!" Ron said as he shoved a handful of crisps into his mouth.

Harry listened to them bicker back and forth just ready for the day and term to be over. Since the Department of Mysteries, he hadn't had the energy to care about much else besides leaving Hogwarts.

"Harry, are you alright?" Hermione asked while giving him a worried look. Since Sirius died, she'd been keeping a closer than normal eye on him.

"I'm fine Hermione, just haven't been sleeping well," he lied. The truth was, while he expected nightmares to keep him up, he'd been so fatigued he had no problem falling asleep and he actually was having no nightmares at all for the first time since the third task. Ironically, now the problem was that he wasn't waking up feeling rested.

Hermione eyed him carefully, keeping in mind the signs of depression she'd read about yesterday. "Why don't you take this afternoon to rest since we no longer have Potions."

Looking up from his still full plate, he saw Snape come into the Great Hall.

"You know what? That's a great idea Hermione," he said collecting his bag this time determined to leave before Snape could approach him. "I'll see you guys later."

He managed to get up and, walking briskly, left the Great Hall before Snape could catch up. Before the doors closed, he looked over his shoulder and saw Snape standing in the middle of the hall staring at him and Harry could have sworn he saw a brief look of sadness cross the man's face.

Two days later, Harry still couldn't shake the fatigue. All he had to do was make it 3 more days and he would be back at the Dursleys, not that he would get any more rest there, but at least he wouldn't have Ron and Hermione breathing down his throat all the time. He hated people worrying and fussing about him.

"Mr. Potter," he heard as he was shaken awake by Hermione during Transfiguration class.

Raising his head up so quickly he suddenly felt light-headed, Professor McGonagall was wearing a frown on her face as she looked at him.

She continued, "Mr. Potter, might I suggest setting an earlier bedtime for yourself if you can't make it through the day without falling asleep in my class!"

Harry felt his face flushing red as he was reprimanded in class, trying to ignore the snickering around him. While he was used to public humiliation from Snape, it was different coming from Professor McGonagall especially for something like sleeping in class.

"Harry!" Hermione hissed at him with wide eyes.

Harry gave her a confused look as Professor McGonagall said, "Oh my! Mr. Potter please follow me to my office." She gave him a look of concern and waved him towards the door on the side of the classroom.

For a split second, Harry was confused, still in the process of waking up from his impromptu nap, when he felt warm liquid on his upper lip. Putting his hand to his face, he drew it back and saw blood on his hand. He stood up tasting copper as he walked into Professor McGonagall's office.

She handed him a handkerchief and asked, "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"I don't know what you're talking about professor," not a complete lie Harry rationalized, as he had no idea what was going on. "I'm fine," he conceded after looking at her no-nonsense look.

"Oh Harry," Professor McGonagall said sympathetically. "I know it's been a rough year for you, especially this past week, it may just be a reaction to it all, but either way, I'd like you to visit the hospital wing. I'll give you a note dismissing you from the rest of classes today."

Harry grudgingly took the note and the second handkerchief from Professor McGonagall, since his nose was still actively bleeding, and left her office for the hospital wing. He debated going back to the tower instead to finish his nap and even starting walking that direction, but after about a minute when the nosebleed still didn't stop, he turned around towards the hospital wing.

If he had been paying more attention he would have heard the voices coming from the hospital wing before he entered. He would have been able to continue avoiding the one person he absolutely didn't want to see.

"Harry," he was brought back to reality by the shock of hearing Snape call him by his given name.

Looking over his bloody nose, he noticed Snape walking away from the bed of a second year Hufflepuff and towards him.

"Um, sir. Where's Madam Pomfrey?" He asked trying his hardest not to make eye contact. There was no way he was going to risk Snape using Legilimency on him.

"She's been called away. I'm filling in while she's gone." He held Harry's chin up to get a better look at his nose. "Care to tell me what happened Mr. Potter?"

"I wasn't in a fight, if that's what you mean!" Harry immediately defended himself. "Are you even qualified to treat students?"

"I highly doubt Madam Pomfrey nor the Headmaster would allow me to fill in if I wasn't qualified," he shot back while leading Harry to a bed. Taking a calming breath he added, "As part of my Potions Mastery, I'm required to be sufficient in many aspects of medi-wizardry."

Harry was deeply confused by what was going on, if he didn't already know Snape he would accuse the man of being civil to him. Since that absolutely couldn't happen, Harry decided he must be fishing for things to tell his Slytherins.

"It was nothing," Harry said randomly. "Erm...I mean I didn't do anything to cause the nosebleed... Sir," the last word added as an afterthought. By the look in Snape's eyes, he seemed to believe Harry. "It seems to have stopped, so I'll just be going."

He went to stand up, but Snape immediately pushed his shoulder down. "You walked into this hospital wing, Mr. Potter, I have to at least have a look at it."

Harry felt the distinct tickle of a diagnostic charm running over his body. Snape's eyebrows lowered in confusion. "Are you injured anywhere else?"

"Erm... No sir," Harry answered questioningly wondering what the potions professor was up to and not trusting him one bit.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus spent the last two days piecing together the past 5 years worth of memories. It seemed that both sets of memories we're co-existing in his head, which was more than a little confusing. In his new reality, he and Harry still shared a mutual hatred for each other. The events leading to their reconciliation, guardianship, and beyond never happened. It felt like losing his son all over again.

Even worse, because of their lack of trust from 1st year forward, the Dark Lord had the opportunity to return. After pulling up some key memories, it seemed in his original reality, being a trusted adult for Harry to rely on stopped all the efforts made by the Dark Lord. In this reality, everything played out so much worse leading up to him becoming a spy again and the events of last week at the Department of Mysteries where Sirius was inevitably killed.

While trying to figure out if there was a way to reconcile his relationship with Harry in this reality, he made it a point to observe Harry from a distance and not try to have any one-on-one encounters.

That all changed when Harry walked into the hospital wing with a severe bloody nose while he was covering a shift for Madam Pomfrey. Looking at the amount of blood, he immediately had a flashback to the bloody noses his Harry used to get as they are a very common sign of Leukemia and was one of his Harry's first symptoms.

He couldn't contain his surprise, causing him to slip up and call out, "Harry".

The surprised look on the teenager's face showed just how much he screwed up with that simple word. The Severus of this reality would never dare call the boy in front of him by his given name.

After attempting to rectify the situation and clearly failing, he decided to just run a full diagnostic charm and see what turns up. In his reality, only the symptoms of the Leukemia were spotted by magical scans, but it was worth a try.

Severus's eyebrows lowered in confusion as he saw something wrong with Harry's lower arm. He asked "Are you injured anywhere else?"

"Erm... No sir," Harry answered questioningly. Severus could hear the distrust in Harry's voice and it hurt.

Severus instinctively grabbed Harry's arm and Harry quickly pulled it away, almost falling off the bed in the process.

Letting go quickly and holding up his hands to show he meant no harm, Severus explained, "I need to see your arm. The diagnostic charm showed some damage on the underside of your left arm."

Harry gave a very skeptical look as he held his left arm with his right. "Uh, thank you sir but I'll just be going now."

Severus looked at Harry sternly. "I'll be right back Mr. Potter and when I return, please have your left arm available to examine" he explained and turned around closing the curtains around the bed as he left.

Once in Poppy's office, he leaned over her desk, holding the edges with his hands for support. This was not going to be easy to do. He pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill to write Poppy a note. He needed to find a way to tell her to send Harry to St. Mungo's for the necessary muggle testing needed to check for Leukemia. It had already been a month later than the diagnosis in his reality, and Severus remembered how early detection was directly linked to the survival rate.

He also needed to make sure that she was none the wiser that he knew about it. Not knowing who to trust with his alternate reality memories, he was trying to blend in as much as possible to the new reality.

Covering face with his hand, he tried to think ahead on how he was going to pull this off while being the greasy dungeon bat plus Death Eater spy. For the first time, he questioned if he made the right decision to drink the red potion.

Heading back to Harry's bed, he pulled back the curtain half preparing himself for Harry to be gone. He was pleasantly surprised to see that not only was Harry still here, he had removed his robes and had his left arm ready. The look on his face confirmed what Severus had feared. Harry had no idea about the large bruise on the underside of his arm.

"Ok Potter, let me have a look," he said as clinically as possible. "Are you sure you weren't in a fight recently?"

"I already told you I wasn't," Harry frustratingly replied.

"Then how do you explain this bruise?" Severus asked with a puzzling tone. If he led Harry to the right questions to ask it would make this whole process easier.

"You know what?" Harry half-screamed. "I don't need this. I'll come back when Madam Pomfrey's back." He stood up, pulled his sleeve down, grabbed his robe and ran from the hospital wing.

That did not go as Severus had hoped, but at the same time he was not at all surprised by the reaction. When Madam Pomfrey returned, he'd recommend she send Harry to St. Mungo's for additional testing. There's no way he'll let me be involved though.

He started cleaning up the hospital wing and inventorying the supplies so he could get a head start on replenishing the potions this summer when Madam Pomfrey entered about an hour later.

"Thank you Severus," she exclaimed as she huffed into the room. "I hope everything was calm while I was gone. The end of the year can be hit or miss."

"It was fine Poppy," Severus said, putting the last couple phials of pain potion back on the shelf. "Just a Hufflepuff that somehow managed to miss a vanishing stair," he paused to clear his mind from that image, "and Mr. Potter was in with a bloody nose and a deep bruise on his left arm"

Poppy looked at him expecting an acerbic response. Getting nothing she continued, "Please don't tell me he was muggle fighting."

"He claims not," Severus treaded lightly. "The bruise was in an odd location and he didn't remember receiving it plus there was no bruising or anything really around his nose."

A comfortable silence fell across the two adults while Poppy assisted Severus with potion inventory.

"I can tell you're deep in thought Severus," Poppy turned to him with a maternal look in her eyes. "I know your dislike for the boy, but you have a duty to help if help is needed.

You have absolutely no idea Poppy

Having played directly into his Slytherin plan, he said "The diagnostic charm showed nothing abnormal, but I'd recommend sending him to St. Mungo's for further evaluation." After a quick internal debate about how much detail it was safe to provide he added, "It might not be a bad idea to do some muggle testing. He has no real medical records outside of his plentiful visits here."

"If you think so, I'll review your notes and the diagnostic charm results before writing up the referral for Professor McGonagall to give him," she was writing down the inventory results as she spoke. "Here's the list of what's needed this summer. I take it this is all you need to get started."

Taking the list and looking it over, he questioned why he wasn't in a position that challenged his skill more. He could make standard student-level potions in his sleep.

"This will do," he said walking out the door back to his dungeon.

The end of term came at an excruciatingly slow pace. Severus was having a difficult time trying to play the part in his new reality. On the one hand he liked that he could maintain plenty of space from the students and professors but it came at a cost of never getting to be around Harry. Through his subtle spying techniques, he was able to deduce that the new Harry was quieter, more isolated, and at times bolder than his Harry. His observations concerned him deeply, but without causing any suspicion he couldn't act upon anything yet.

It was with these thoughts that he found himself a week later having dinner with the rest of the staff. Lost in his thoughts, his ears caught the tail end of the conversation between Poppy and Minerva when he heard them discussing Harry.

"... Mr. Potter never showed up," Poppy looked concerned. Severus correctly assumed this was in reference to the St. Mungo's visit.

"Oh dear, part of that is my fault," Minerva said. She didn't look as concerned as Severus thought she ought to. "I gave him the St. Mungo's referral, but since a guardian needs to accompany him I asked if he wanted me to go explain the situation to his relatives. They're muggles and I wasn't sure how much they would understand."

Severus's blood went cold. It sounded like Harry had gone back to this aunt and uncle's house. He had assumed that he would be at Grimmauld Place with Sirius, or now, one of the other order members. Why would Albus send him back to his relatives? I may have been the first adult to notice the abuse but I couldn't have been the only adult?

"He assured me that they'll take him when he gets back over the summer," she had a sad look on her face. "He didn't make it sound like it was a big deal, but I was going to stop by there this week if he hadn't been yet - which it looks like he hasn't."

Not being able to keep quiet any longer Severus said, "Well of course he said that and then had absolutely no intention of following through." If he played his Slytherin cards right again, this could end up in his favor.

"Severus," Minerva warningly said, placing her fork down a touch too forcefully, "Harry is a responsible young man, not that you would have noticed at all. I don't need you to get involved in matters that don't concern you."

"If I may Minerva," he lectured, "I was the first one to examine Mr. Potter and it was originally my recommendation to send him to a healer. So unfortunately, I'm already involved"

"By all means, if you think you could handle this matter more appropriately, maybe you should just be the one to go and take him?" Minerva said, highly offended. "I don't know how you handle your Slytherins, but I like to think that 16 years old is old enough to have some control over his own choices."

Severus rolled his eyes. Of course she would think that. In fact, from what he knew in the other reality Minerva has a very "hands off" approach to her Gryffindors.

"I will not be wasting my time in muggle Surrey simply because you failed to see that your Golden Boy has zero sense of self-preservation," Severus exclaimed.

"We'll see about that," Minerva looked down right pleased with herself and Severus almost smiled because she was none the wiser.

"Absolutely not," Severus yelled at Albus later that night. Could it really have been that easy?

Albus had predictably firecalled Severus and asked to speak to him about an important matter for the Order. So he sat down on the unfamiliar sofa across from Albus, who was wearing his ridiculously bright purple and silver robes, expecting the Headmaster to get his opinion about Harry's health. He never expected Albus to immediately ask him to take over for Minerva instead.

"Did you really think I would just come out and volunteer for this?" Severus did his best to raise his occlumency shields making sure to hide his true intentions just in case. "Have you finally lost it and gone mad?"

"No Severus, after speaking with Minerva about the conversation you had with her over dinner, I think I finally have my mind fully aware of what is actually going on here," he said calmly with a twinkle in his eye. "I'd like to speak freely if it's agreeable to you?"

"Of course!" the Potion Master spat back, standing up and pacing across the floor threshold. This can't get any better.

"We both know why you need to be the one to go," he said cautiously. "Why you want to be the one to go."

Severus stopped in his tracks. No, he can't... Looking up slowly, he met Albus's eyes with his own. An entire conversation seemed to silently pass between them.

Finally, Severus said, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Then please allow me to explain it. Let me walk you through what I know," Albus said, not breaking eye contact. "I know that the phial of a very rare and magical potion I had sitting on my desk since before you were born went missing the same day my normally extremely reliable Potions Professor showed up late to breakfast and cancelled classes for the first time ever; and that he's been acting out of sorts since. I know that your current circumstances have something to do with Harry, though I must admit, my mind has not been able to come up with any logical reason why.

"What I don't know is the details of your circumstances prior to coming here. So now I ask you Severus, please fill me in so we can have an honest conversation about Harry and the situation we all find ourselves in," Albus casually said as he picked up his cup of tea and took a slow sip.

Severus stood still feeling like he couldn't move or else the delicate life he's been living would start to unravel. Trying to look anywhere but at Albus's face he took in the sight around him. The furniture that wasn't quite his, the books in the bookcases lining the sitting room reminding him of all the extra studying he and Harry had done throughout the years, but what hit him most was the missing pictures all of which he still carried the memories for every day. Feeling the intense grief coming back to settle into his chest, he turned around and sat back onto the sofa.

"I don't know where to start," Severus finally said, which was probably the most honest he'd been since waking up in this confusing reality.

"If I may, the beginning is usually a good place to start. Clearly something is different between you and Harry," Albus said sympathetically, almost like he already knew why Severus was struggling.

Staring at a small stone in the stone on the dungeon wall in front of him, Severus started, "You're right. Where I'm from, Harry is my son." Severus let go of the breath he hadn't realized he was holding

Albus looked shocked at hearing this, "You mean? You and Lily-"

"No," the younger man cut in. "I adopted him when he was 12, it was March 5th, 1993 and while I'd probably never openly admit it, it was one of the happiest days of my life. Definitely the most happy since losing Lily."

Severus placed his head in his hands feeling the weight of the boulder on chest start to lighten.

He continued, "I finally realized during the Christmas holiday break in his first year how alike we were. I promised myself the moment I moved away from my parents, I'd never let another child go through what I did." Meeting the Headmaster's eyes said sadly, "You were going to send him back there for the summer; I couldn't allow it and I didn't care what you said. If I'm honest, you probably wanted that to happen because you always seemed overly happy after that."

Albus nodded his head slowly. "So then what brought you here? What about Voldemort?"

Severus flinched as he lightly touched his left forearm. "In my other reality the Dark Lord hasn't come back yet. From what I've managed to piece together, the events occurred a little differently mostly due to Harry having a trusted adult to rely on. I'm guessing that's about change back there though... If back there still exists that is."

Albus's face lit up as he stood and started pacing. "Very, very interesting. Not how I would have expected it to go, but clearly it was working. Which leads us back to my other question - why are you here?"

Severus looked devastated and Albus gave him all the time he needed to compose himself. Taking another deep breath, the best he could say was, "I couldn't save him. I tried, I really did, but by the time we realized the potions weren't working it was too late and I was told by my Albus that drinking that potion would allow me the chance to fix my mistakes."

The confused expression across Albus's face let Severus know he wasn't making sense to the man.

"He has Leukemia," Severus finally said. "It's cancer, a muggle disease, in his blood and rare for a wizard to get. I didn't spend a lot of energy trying to find out why he got it, I just wanted to cure him from it.

"Based on what I've seen from this Harry, he has it too. We found out after a Quidditch match when the bruises wouldn't heal. He also had a couple bad nosebleeds that had no apparent cause."

Albus took a deep breath, the wheels in his head clearly thinking through this new information. "So what went wrong? What do you believe you can do differently here?" He sat back down so both men were face to face.

"We were given two options for treatment - muggle or magical medications. I wanted muggle, but Harry flat out refused," he paused to gather his thoughts. "Neither was without risks, of course. The magic we tried is highly untested because wizards generally don't get cancer.

"Before we decided this route, I did a lot of research and discussed with other Potions Masters until, I thought, we found something that should have worked. We made it about 12 weeks before tests showed it wasn't effective, so we made some adjustments. It wasn't without its own set of side effects, but he was managing through them. That regimen was working for another 6 months with only minor changes needed, but one day after a status tested, that was it. Things spiraled out of control and about a month later he was gone."

Severus felt his hands start to shake. This needed to be discussed and he was happy to finally have someone who could help.

"The other option is what muggles use. It's called Chemotherapy and has a good success rate for this type of cancer when caught early enough, but it basically acts like a poison to kill off the cancer cells.

"The way it was explained to me, by the healers, was that it can't differentiate between the good and bad cells so in the process of killing the bad cells, the good ones are also attacked. In both a muggle and a wizard, that means some bad side effects, but a wizard also runs the risk of losing some or all of his magical signature. Harry's magic would essentially spend the entire time trying to heal him from the chemotherapy effects, which would then burn through his magical core from the constant use. Depending on how long the treatment took, worse case scenario he could end up without any magic left," Severus felt the last bit of the weight lift up from his chest.

Albus stared at the flames in the fireplace contemplating what this meant for their new world. "You're a brave man Severus, but of course I've always thought that of you in this world. Now I can see that it's a virtue you possess deep in your soul.

"You were left with an impossible choice to make and I fear one that won't be much easier here. Not only are we dealing with our Harry, who has very little trust in any adults, but we have Voldemort very much alive here and Harry is unfortunately a necessary participant in the war against him," Albus tried to make it sound as neutral as possible knowing Severus would clearly see the meaning behind those words.

"No you don't," Severus said angrily. "We already know this will kill him if we choose the Potions. Yes, I have a head start on the research, but at this point so does the cancer. I won't risk it."

"Unfortunately Severus," Albus didn't want to bring this up, but it couldn't be ignored, "you don't get a say in this. Harry's aunt and uncle are his legal guardians."

Angry with this realization Severus argued, "He at least needs a medical proxy which shouldn't be difficult seeing as his relatives despise anything magical including Harry. They would probably let him die before taking him for treatment, which should be reason enough to grant a proxy." Still angry with Albus for leaving Harry with his abusive relatives, he hoped that soon it would be a moot point.

"How do you suggest we move forward?" It surprised Severus that the Headmaster would seek his opinion.

"He needs to go to St. Mungo's. Minerva should go discuss it with his relatives and then take him."

It hurt Severus to admit he shouldn't be involved, but Harry wouldn't trust a single thing he said right now and they wouldn't get anywhere. He picked up his cold tea, casting a quick non-verbal wandless warming charm, and took a sip. He could really use some firewhiskey after the conversation tonight.

"No Severus, I think you're quite incorrect on at least half of that assessment. I think you need to go get the boy. If my memory serves me correctly, you have history with his aunt which can be advantageous to us in this endeavor," Albus's eyes twinkled as he made eye contact with Severus's dark, sad ones. This should be very interesting.

3rd July, 1996

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry was laying on his scarcely clad bed in the smallest bedroom of number 4 Privet Drive, trying his hardest not to fall asleep, knowing the moment he did he would be called down to help Aunt Petunia make dinner. His window was cracked open bringing in the warm summer breeze to help clear out the stuffy feeling of the small bedroom.

He'd only been back at the Dursley's for half a week and he already felt dead to the world both physically and mentally. The only good thing about his current mood was that, for some reason, his relatives had pretty much left him to do his chores and go to bed. He didn't have the energy to say much back to them anyways.

He had spent the day out in the garden cleaning out the weeds, painting the fence, and watering the flowers. By mid-afternoon, he was back in his room where he practically passed out on the bed not even bothering to change out of his sweaty, dirty clothing. He guessed it was about 2 hours later, but his eyes were so heavy with fatigue, he could barely hold a conscious , he felt like it should have been an easy day yet he felt drained and extremely sore.

He had been trying his hardest not to think about Sirius and the Department of Mysteries, but each night he had been haunted with nightmares about those awful events, making it nearly impossible to forget during the waking hours. He would then feel the suffocating loneliness seep into him.

I killed the one person who really cared about me and could give me a family... Just like I got my parents killed.

Realizing he was never going to get another letter from Sirius immediately made his end of summer seem miles away. The irony was not lost on him that he spent the final days at Hogwarts waiting to leave and now he just wanted to go back. It was as if he didn't really belong anywhere anymore.

"BOY!"

The young wizard's head didn't even flinch hearing Uncle Vernon yell for him at the bottom of the stairs. He easily had another minute or two before the man got really angry. Hearing the lumbering footsteps coming up the stairs caused his eyes to at least open and he considered sitting up.

"Boy, you get out here at once!" Vernon screamed as he banged on the door. It opened just as Harry managed to sit up and swing his sore legs over to the side of the bed.

"Did you want something Uncle Vernon," Harry asked sarcastically. "I'm not sure the rest of the neighborhood could hear you."

"Don't you talk to me like that boy or you'll stay in this room for the next week," Vernon threatened as he pulled the small boy up by his shirt. Harry flinched expecting a blow that, thankfully, didn't come. Thinking it over, the idea of staying in his room for a week didn't sound so bad at the moment, but he wasn't about to say so. Instead he just looked at his uncle like he had grown an extra head.

Vernon continued, "We're going out tonight." Harry looked down at his grass stained jeans and oversized shirt with a streak of dirt across the front. Vernon looked disgusted with Harry, "Not you boy. The rest of us and you are to stay in this room for the rest of the night"

"Of course," Harry rolled his eyes, how dare I think something stupid like that.

Without another word, Vernon slammed the door right in his nephew's face. Harry sighed secretly happy he would not be having to cook dinner tonight and could just turn in early.

After about an hour, the Dursleys were gone, Harry was showered, and back in his bed. Sitting up against the wall, he was trying to read Quidditch through the Ages for probably the tenth time, but he couldn't focus on any of the words. His mind started wandering back to the Department of Mysteries and the veil when he felt a slow trickle down his upper lip. As he brought his hand towards his nose, drops of blood started falling onto the book and streaking the pages.

"Bloody hell," Harry said out loud sitting up and grabbing for an old t-shirt draped over the back of his desk chair. Walking out of his bedroom towards the bathroom, he heard a loud knock on the front door.

Whoever it is can wait, they're obviously not here for me.

Harry ran into the lavatory flipping the light on as he entered and immediately went to the sink. He had his head lifted back as he pulled the shirt away to see the steady stream of blood pouring down into his mouth. Turning the faucet on, he spit into the sink and used his hands to clean the blood off his nose.

As he turned off the water and raised his head to grab some tissue - the blood finally slowing down - he heard soft, slow, and steady footsteps coming up the stairs. Clearly, not one of the Dursley's since none of them could produce footsteps that even and slow. He instinctively grabbed for his wand, cursing silently when he remembered that it was locked in the cupboard under the stairs with his trunk and all his other magical possessions. A quick check around the lavatory didn't show much he could use against a Death Eater, so he grabbed the only thing he could think to use - the plunger.

His heart was pounding against his chest as he lifted the plunger up above his head. Hearing the footsteps just outside the door, he slowed his breathing and pulled the cracked door wide open as he brought the plunger down as fast as he could.

Unfortunately, the intruder was faster and grabbed the plunger before it could hit him on the head and yanked it out of Harry's hands.

"Potter! What are you thinking?!," he heard the dark voice of his Potions Professor exclaim.

"Snape?" He asked cautiously, thinking about how much trouble he had to be in for almost hitting his most hated professor with a plunger, of all things.

"For Merlin's sake, if you need a weapon from the lavatory, at least use the top of the toilet," Snape lectured. "You wouldn't take down a soul with, what is this-" he looked at the make-shift weapon he was holding, "- a plunger?"

Harry felt his face flush immediately at the thought of getting lectured about weapons from Snape. I'm sure he could find a deadly weapon in any room of the house. He shivered at the thought.

"What are you doing here sir?" Harry sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub finally taking in the sight of the Potion Master. He was wearing a muggle looking outfit of black trousers and a black buttoned down shirt. Without his black overcoat and teaching robes, he looked almost normal and less threatening.

"I knocked on the door but no one answered," Snape explained. Harry had no way of knowing that the man already knew his relatives never took him out anywhere, so with their car being gone he knew Harry would be alone. "What happened? More muggle fighting?," he asked looking at the leftover drying blood from Harry's nosebleed.

Furious, Harry answered, "I was not fighting. And you never answered my question, what. are. you. doing. here?" He let the lack of " sir" at the end hang between them.

"The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall sent me to discuss your lack of responsibility by not showing up for your consultation at St. Mungo's," he gave Harry a stern look from top to bottom. "Based on what I see in front of me, you'd best think twice before telling me you're 'fine'."

"Well... I am fine! What's it to you anyways?" Harry called back feeling a bit childish but not caring at the moment.

"Like I said before," Snape replied, "I drew the preverbal short straw."

They both were staring at each other, Harry from the edge of the bathtub and Snape standing by the sink, neither wanting to make the first move. Finally, Harry didn't have the energy to fight anymore. In the end, if he wanted to get Snape to leave, he had to give in somewhere. The man wasn't just going to walk away. If that were the case, he wouldn't have broken into the house to start with. "Why don't we at least go downstairs?"

Getting up from the uncomfortable edge of the bathtub, the Boy-Who-Lived stealthily grabbed at his right leg in slight pain, unaware that Snape saw the small movement. Rubbing his hand across his forehead, he walked past the Potions Professor and started walking down the stairs.

"Did you seriously break into my Aunt and Uncle's house?" Harry asked halfway down the staircase. "Who does something like that?"

"Clearly, I suspected you were home," Snape said, taking in the house around him. "I saw your relatives leave and wanted a chance to speak to you without them present."

Harry's emerald eyes squinted thinking about what he just heard. It sounded awfully suspicious to Harry, and all of a sudden he had the realization that Snape could easily kidnap him and bring him directly to Voldemort. The git probably wouldn't lose an ounce of sleep from it either.

Walking tentatively into the kitchen, Harry threw himself down into one of the chairs at the supper table. Looking out the window, there was still plenty of daylight being early in the night and he enviously watched a couple neighborhood boys playing football in the street. The thought of dinner crossed his mind as he easily could sneak something with the Dursley's gone, but for once his stomach wasn't even a touch hungry. There was no way he was offering anything to Snape either; he can just sit there staring at me for all I care, the messy haired teen thought to himself.

"Listen Potter," Snape started, "I don't like this any more than you do, so let's just get this over with. Madam Pomfrey specifically told you to go to St. Mungo's for follow up testing," he spoke to Harry in a very short manner as if Harry couldn't understand English.

"And yet, you completely ignored that recommendation. I'll let you know, Poppy made special arrangements with a colleague of hers, at the Headmaster's request, to maintain your anonymity while there and you can't even bother to show up," the potions master was getting angry now and Harry backed up in his chair to put some more distance between them.

"I told you," Harry had his jaw clenched, "I'm fine. I don't need to go anywhere. I just need to be left alone!"

"Oh, excuse me, it looks to me you are anything but fine. For starters, you had another serious looking bloody nose when I managed to sneak up on you in the lavatory," Snape crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the skinny teen in front of him, taking in the dark circles under both his eyes. "You absolutely look fine. I'll just let the headmaster know that you're not limping down the stairs or appear like you're going to fall asleep right in front of me."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose then took a deep breath. Steepling his fingers he said, "You do need a guardian to go with you. I can discuss it with your Aunt and Uncle if you need me to."

"Ha!" Harry sarcastically laughed, "Good luck getting them to sign off on anything for me. They couldn't care less what happens to me. I think you guys would get along quite well actually. You can probably share stories on best ways to torture me. I think I'll pass... sir."

Standing up, Harry held onto the edge of the table when he suddenly became dizzy, but refused to back down. "I think I'll just head back upstairs to my room. If you're still here when my Uncle gets home, good luck with that."

Right before Harry left the kitchen, Snape called out, "I'll be back for you in the morning. Be ready."

"Sure thing professor" he mumbled over his shoulder wondering briefly if the man was actually serious. Surely he'd send someone else to come and get him if he actually needed to go anywhere.

After hearing the front door slam closed, the tired teen shut his bedroom door and sank into his bed not caring that it was still early in the evening to go to sleep.

"Sirius... No, Sirius"

"Crucio..."

"NOOOOO!"

Harry jumped up suddenly from his sleep. It was only a nightmare, he told himself, but then a second later realized the nightmare had actually already happened to him. No matter how many times he dreamed about it, he could never stop Sirius from falling through the veil. He could never bring his Godfather back.

Grabbing his glasses from his desk next to his bed, he put them on and looked at the clock. It was 5:30 in the morning. Deciding he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, he swung his feet off the side of the bed. Reaching around to rub the back of his neck, he felt the sticky feel of sweat covering his back. Looking down, he was suddenly aware of the cold sweat covering his body causing his oversized t-shirt to cling suffocatingly to his skin.

What the hell is going on?

Harry was finally starting to think that something might not be right. Getting up, he quickly changed into a plain grey shirt that had the least amount of holes he could find and a worn out pair of jeans which were hand-me-downs from Ron last summer. He was grateful these fit so much better than Dudley's cast-offs.

Once he was ready for the day, which included trying unsuccessfully to brush down his ever-wild hair, he made his way downstairs to start the Dursley's breakfast. Thinking of his long day of chores ahead, he secretly hoped they'd be inside today since the hot weather outside took more out of him than usual.

Getting lost in his thoughts, he didn't hear Aunt Petunia come into the kitchen, "Don't go burning the bacon today, got it," she said with her shrill voice. "Vernon has a very important business meeting this morning and he deserves to start the day with a good breakfast." She smiled as if she just thought of the world's best idea.

Like that will make any difference.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," Harry obediently said, flipping the bacon in the pan.

Cooking was one of his favorite chores. Not only did focusing solely on the task keep his intrusive thoughts away, but he was also allowed to get creative with it. Chicken could be dressed up so many different ways and he enjoyed getting to experiment with the different recipes or finding new, creative ways to change an old one. It was the reason why he thought he would do well in potions when he first started at Hogwarts -

No, I refuse to think of Snape right now.

Of course, by saying he wouldn't think of Snape, meant that it was the only thing he could think about. Why was the man acting so strange? Maybe he was reading too much into how the dungeon bat was acting? It wouldn't be the first time he's misread a situation.

And look where that got me.

He was brought back to the present by the smell of burning bacon. Cursing to himself, he flipped it quickly noticing the top of 3 pieces had started to burn. He carefully cut the burnt tops off and snuck them under a napkin to eat later.

Once the eggs were scrambled, toast was buttered, and tomatoes sliced on a plate, he was setting the table as Vernon stomped into the room and sat down with the paper. Ignoring Harry, he started to read.

"Here you are Uncle Vernon," Harry quietly announced placing a pitcher of orange juice in the center of the table. Vernon started filling his plate with a heaping serving of all the food on the table. Harry grabbed a piece of toast before heading back to the stove for the burnt bacon pieces, then left out the garden door to get some air.

Sitting right outside the door, he was able to stay out of Vernon's way until he heard the car leaving the driveway. Walking back in, he picked up his chore list - mostly indoors! - from the spot on the table where Aunt Petunia normally sat. Peering around the kitchen, there was no sight of her.

"Hey Potter!" Dudley yelled as he seemingly attempted to swat towards the back of Harry's head. Harry ducked just in time to cause the larger boy to lose his balance and fall over. Harry couldn't hold in his laugh.

"Have a nice fall Big D?" Harry asked, running from the kitchen towards the stairs. Unfortunately, Aunt Petunia chose that moment to walk down the stairs blocking his exit up. Dudley managed to catch up as someone knocked on the front door.

Petunia gave her son a warning with her eyes causing him to walk back into the sitting room. Harry continued up the stairs and sat at the top so he could eavesdrop before starting his chores.

"Can I help... What are you doing here?!" he heard Petunia screech.

He couldn't contain his curiosity since he's only heard his aunt use that kind of voice when talking to him, and slowly crept down to a lower stair. Petunia tried to close the door in the face of whoever was outside but the visitor was faster and a hand with long, slim fingers held the door open before she could get it closed.

"That's no way to greet someone now is it Tuney?" Harry froze, he would know that baritone voice anywhere. "Where are your manners?"

Woah does Snape know Aunt Petunia?!

"Who are you to talk about manners Snape?" Petunia spat back at him.

Completely ignoring her and pushing his way into the entrance way, Snape continued "Why yes, I would love to be invited into your home so the neighbors don't overhear us."

Petunia huffed and looked up at her nephew who clearly was in shock at seeing his professor heckling his aunt.

"Get started on your chores, now!" She bellowed to Harry snapping his attention away from the strange sight in front of him.

"Actually," he heard Snape say as he turned around to go clean the loo and he could have sworn there was a hint of amusement in the man's voice. "This conversation is pertaining to Mr. Potter, so he should stay."

"Uh oh," Dudley called walking back towards the stairs, "Getting expelled for real this time?"

"Shove it Dudders," Harry replied. Dudley pushed the young wizard out of the way so he could go upstairs.

"Boys!" Petunia lectured trying her hardest to make it appear as if she had full control over the situation.

"Don't stop them on my account Tuney," Petunia gave the professor a death glare whenever he used that name. "All I need is to take your nephew on a short field trip today."

Harry was curious about what Snape was implying. Last night he made it sound like his aunt or uncle would be needed at St. Mungo's and now he sounded all secretive. Thoughts of Voldemort passed through his head and he almost said something to his aunt. At the last minute, he caught Snape's eye and decided to let it play out.

"Fine, whatever, take him," she rolled her hand in the air like he was nothing more than an afterthought to her. Turning to Harry she wagged her finger at him and said "Just make sure you have your chores done when you get home!"

"Ok, Aunt Petunia," he mumbled unsure which was better, doing chores here or going somewhere with the dungeon bat. Although, now that he had some time to look at Snape, he didn't look so intimidating.

In the process of contemplating Snape's less than intimidating look for the day, he missed the question the professor had asked. "Potter! Did you hear a word I said?!"

"Erm... No" the Boy-Who-Lived said embarrassed.

"Go and get ready, we're expected in about an hour," Snape replied impatiently.

Harry turned around and walked upstairs to his room. Putting on his worn out trainers, he looked around the room wondering if there was anything else he needed. This was bound to be a trying day.

Heading back downstairs, he jumped as he saw a man that looked nothing like his hated professor standing by the front door. Instead of a curtain of dark greasy hair lining his pale face, the man in front of him had shorter cut blonde hair, a less pale face, and soft blue eyes.

"It's a glamour, Potter," he still sounded exactly like Snape. "We can't exactly be seen together. In fact, I'll be casting one on you too."

He pulled out his ebony wand and Harry immediately went to grab his, forgetting again that he didn't have it. Snape's eyebrows shot up, "Think I'm going to hex you? Where is your wand?"

Snape was clearly angry, but Harry wasn't sure if it was because he almost pulled his wand on the professor or because he didn't have it to start with.

"It's locked up," Harry said almost inaudibly, pointing to the cupboard under the stairs.

"And do you think it's a smart idea to leave without it?" Harry felt like a 5-year old getting lectured.

"Nope, but my uncle -" he was interrupted by the lock being opened magically and Snape walking in. He pulled out Harry's trunk, opened it, took out the holly wand, and handed it to Harry.

Harry took it from his professor, not taking notice of Snape examining the inside of the cupboard. He already knew about Harry having lived in the cupboard for 10 years, but it had been 6 years since he'd seen the evidence of it. On the wall above the small cot, was a kid's hand-drawn picture that said "Harry's room". Snape closed the door a little too forcefully, pointed his wand at the trunk and shrunk it.

"I'll enlarge it when we get back, so you can keep it in your room," Snape told him in a voice that almost sounded sympathetic. "How else do you expect to do your summer assignments?"

Ah, there's the snarky comment!

"Thank you sir," Harry was very confused, but extremely grateful.

Snape just raised his wand again at Harry, this time Harry only flinched a little, and placed a glamour so he had blonde hair that fell to his shoulders, bright blue eyes, and squared glasses. "That should be enough to get us into the exam room. Let's go."

Walking down the drive, Harry slowed knowing he shouldn't ask the burning questions in his mind but figured he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, "Sir? I thought you needed my aunt and uncle's permission or something? Last night you said you were going to talk with them about this."

Snape turned so he faced the boy. "We made alternate arrangements," he answered cryptically.

"You mean Madam Pomfrey did," Harry had to know if Snape had anything to do with this or not.

"Yes, something like that," the man was distracted and clearly wanted this line of questioning to end. "Let's get moving."

"Sir? One more question," in for a penny, in for a pound Harry though. "How do you know Aunt Petunia?"

Snape glared at Harry but with his eyes blue instead of their normal black, the desired impact was gone. "That's none of your business." Harry disagreed with that, but didn't expect anything more to be said.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, and once reaching an alleyway, Snape turned to Harry and asked "Have you apparated before?"

Harry landed hard and instantly felt like he was about to lose his small breakfast. Snape held him by the shoulders with a concerned glare waiting for the disorientation of the first time apparating to pass.

Satisfied that he wasn't going to sick up all over his professor's shoes, Harry stood up with confused eyes. He wasn't standing in front of the hidden entrance to St. Mungo's, but instead was standing at a very muggle-looking private hospital.

"Erm... Why are we here?" Harry asked, trying not to sound nervous.

"I told you alternate plans were made, " the professor explained. "Occasionally, magical healers do work in muggle facilities, especially if that healer currently lives in the muggle world. The healer we're seeing is such a person."

Muggle or magic, Harry didn't want to be there. While he was intimately familiar with exams from his time at Hogwarts, he had never really voluntarily gone for a check-up. The Dursley's wouldn't dare take him unless it was absolutely necessary.

Walking into the brick building, Harry's heart rate immediately increased when the sterile smell hit his nose. The reception area was bright and inviting, but that didn't stop the small trembling in his hands. As Harry was walking up to the reception desk, Snape walked beyond it quickly towards the lifts tucked behind the desk. He ran to catch up to Snape, who was holding the lift open for him. Standing next to the man, Harry watched him wave his hand over the lift buttons and a small black circle appeared at the bottom of the list of floors. He pressed the black button followed by the #4 (pediatrics).

Opening his eyes in surprise, he asked Snape, "Is there one of those in every hospital?"

"Only if there's a magical healer present," he explained. "Which I made sure there would be today. The hidden button is activated by a magical signature and it alerts the floor that the witch or wizard is arriving."

Harry appreciated the extra explanation, knowing Snape didn't have to go into the details. He wondered how Snape was so familiar with the muggle world when the elevator lurched to a stop. The door opened to show a room with bright yellow walls lined with butterflies and flowers across them. A variety of rainbow colored chairs, both large for parents and small for young children, sat in a horseshoe pattern around the reception window. Sitting in a set of chairs along the left wall was a mother with her daughter who looked about five. Harry felt extremely out of place.

Snape walked up to the reception desk and said to the middle aged lady, "Alton Smithe is expecting us for Harry Evans."

Harry peered sideways at Snape when he heard his alias, but the man was staring forward so he decided not to say anything.

"Come this way," the receptionist told them, opening the door leading them back to a set of rooms. They were led through a hallway, all the way to the last room on the left where a small black circle could be seen on the outside of the door. Snape lifted his hand and waved it in front of the black circle and the door immediately opened.

Walking into the room, the receptionist told them Healer Smithe would be with them momentarily. Harry sat in one of the plastic chairs nervously tapping his foot waiting. Once the door closed, Snape waved his wand removing both their glamours.

"So... Is there just like a whole underground magical healthcare world hidden away here," Harry awkwardly asked.

"Very eloquent Mr. Potter," Snape replied. "Sometimes it's not conducive for a magical parent to bring a child to St. Mungo's or when muggle parents have a magical child, like Miss. Granger, it's an easier transition to go to the local hospital if there are dual healers available there."

"Ah, guess I've never thought about that much," Harry looked around the room just for something to do while waiting.

Snape lowered his eyebrows, "Why do I feel you haven't put much thought into most aspects of your medical needs?"

Harry decided to ignore that remark, as the door opened and a man, who Harry guessed was in his mid-40's, entered the room. He had sandy blonde hair, hazel kind eyes behind a set of modest glasses, and a small goatee growing. He reminded Harry of a more clean-cut version of Remus, and he immediately felt comfortable around this man.

"Severus," Healer Smithe called out as he closed the door. The friendly tone showing he obviously knew Snape from somewhere. "It's been too long. How have you been?"

"Quite the same, Alton, as always. How's Mary these days?" Snape actually sounded concerned which caught Harry's interest.

"She's doing well," he had a sad look in his eyes as he said that, "all thanks to you. Which brings us to this young man."

He turned to Harry. "Hello Mr. Potter, my name is Healer Smithe," he held out his hand to Harry.

"Hi sir... And please just call me Harry." He shook Healer Smithe's hand, his arm still trembling from nerves.

Looking through the file he had in his hands, which Harry assumed was from the Hogwarts infirmary, he said, "Harry it is. It looks like your professor and the medi-witch from your school sent over an extensive list of things to check for, most of which are muggle tests."

His eyebrows shot up as he read over the sheet of parchment in his left hand. Harry watched as he looked skeptically at Snape who gave a nod so small Harry thought he might have imagined it. This was not a good sign at all.

"Ok," Healer Smithe finally said, "let's get some basics out of the way. I'm going to run a diagnostic spell which will record things like your height, weight, temperature, and if you currently have any illnesses or injuries." Harry felt the tickle of the diagnostic scan start.

"It says here, you visited the school infirmary due to a bloody nose. How else you've been feeling overall, have you had any other nose bleeds? Or any unexplained bruising?"

Healer Smithe took a seat on a small, yellow stool at the desk on the other end of the wall. Harry looked up at Snape, not sure he wanted to discuss things this personal with his hated potions professor standing there.

"Severus," Healer Smithe said quietly, picking up on Harry's hesitations. "Can you wait in my office? I'll be right there to clarify a couple things before we get started."

Harry was surprised by the understanding that crossed Snape's eyes. "Of course," he replied slowly walking out of the exam room.

"So tell me what's been going on," Healer Smithe questioned, turning back towards Harry.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus sat in the comfortable office of the only other person besides Lily he would call a friend. He had met Alton while he was working on the healing portion of his Potions Mastery. Having just completed his own Healer Mastery, Alton was nervous to have a junior apprentice, but enjoyed Severus's level of knowledge and the theoretical discussions they so often had.

Alton had married Sarah, a muggle he'd met while Severus was studying under him. Severus had been invited to the wedding and still regretted not attending; it had been a dark time in his life and he didn't want to dampen their day. From then on, Alton enjoyed living in the muggle world even after their daughter, Mary, was born 5 years ago and would most likely be a witch.

Severus had heard from Alton over two years ago when Mary was diagnosed with a heart murmur due to a small hole and they wanted to do open heart surgery. Severus created a series of potions to help close the hole without any surgical intervention over several weeks. Thinking about it now, Severus was surprised that both realities were the same in regards to Alton Smithe.

He'd been waiting about 20 minutes when Alton walked back into his office. His friend leaned against the edge of the desk with his arm folded across his chest.

"Want to fill me in on anything Severus? It's not like you to get so involved to the point of sending the tests you want to run."

"Let's just say I have a feeling and leave it at that," the Potions Master said. "I take it there won't be any issues running them today? I imagine you agree this needs to get started as quickly as possible."

"I mean, I have everything here per your request, but what do you expect to do about the guardian permission? I can do the blood tests, no problem but, assuming it's necessary, I can't do the bone marrow biopsy without guardian consent," Alton had a sad look on his face as he explained that fact.

"Albus Dumbledore is working on a medical proxy," Severus said matter-of-factly. "I'll send everything necessary when I receive it and it will be valid for today. Given the symptoms, it's very likely Leukemia, and let's just say his guardians don't have his best interest in mind. "

"I think that these types of symptoms can be any number of ailments or even nothing at all. Cancer is extremely rare in the wizarding population as a whole and even when we do see it, it's generally in either weak wizards and specifically muggleborns, neither of which describes Mr. Potter," Alton paused taking a cleansing breath. "Let's just say you're lucky I owe you. All of this is coming very close to lines that can't be crossed in both the muggle and magical worlds."

"That's why we're here," Severus said standing up to exit the office. "Let's get this started."

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry was waiting for Healer Smithe to return and had no idea what to expect. He wasn't exactly sure what he needed to consult Snape about seeing as the man should have nothing to do with his medical files. Maybe it was because Snape originally ran the diagnostic spell back at Hogwarts? I should have gone for a nap instead.

"Ok, Harry I think we're ready this morning," Healer Smithe cheerfully called as he entered the room again. "Is it ok if Professor Snape joins us? I may need his assistance on a couple things. I promise we won't discuss anything you're uncomfortable with him hearing." Healer Smithe knew that keeping Harry's trust was about the only way they would get through this easily.

"Yes sir, that's fine," Harry eyed Snape as he was let back into the room. While he felt very comfortable with Healer Smithe, he still was wary of Snape and why he had to be so involved.

Putting on a pair of gloves and grabbing the phlebotomy supplies he sat down in front of Harry to walk him through the process, "The tests we're going to run today are all going to be muggle tests. Occasionally, there are times where a magical scan just can't show us the whole picture of what's going on and muggle tests can make up that difference. We're still able to use magical methods to read the tests however, so as long as everything cooperates you should leave here today with some answers.

"This part is pretty straightforward. I'll just draw some blood and look to see if anything is out of place," he paused looking at Harry. "Are you afraid of needles?"

Having not had any experience with needles before, Harry shook his head "no" figuring it can't be any worse than what he's gone through with Voldemort. Even so, he decided at the last second to look away and he met Snape's eyes just as he felt the cold, wet touch of the alcohol pad followed by a sharp pinch. He couldn't hold in the grimace that formed on his face, and he scolded himself because the last thing he wanted was to appear weak in front of Snape.

After what felt like at least a minute, he felt another dull pinch as the needle was removed from the inside of his elbow. A small piece of cotton was taped over where the blood was taken.

"That's it," Healer Smithe exclaimed, disposing of the blood collection kit and gloves in the red rubbish bin next to the desk. "I'll go run these now. Do you want to go get a snack or wait here?"

"I think I'd rather wait here... if that's ok," Harry asked. "I'm not so hungry anyways."

"Sure thing," he replied standing up with the vials of blood. Harry thought it was strange to see his blood captured outside his body in that way. "It shouldn't be more than 10 minutes then."

"Thank you Alton," Snape spoke, for the first time since coming back into the room, as the Healer was leaving.

Harry was suddenly very interested in his worn out trainers for the simple reason that he didn't know what else to do. He was amazed at how easily he'd adjusted to walking in shoes too big for him and where they were worn through. Making a mental note of needing to find a way to get new ones, he felt Snape's eyes on him. Lifting his head up, his bright emerald eyes met Snape's dark onyx ones.

"It's bad isn't it," Harry finally admitted worrying his lower lip. He really didn't want to have this conversation with Snape but he felt utterly alone not for the first time in his life, but very strongly at that moment. He was reaching out to the only person present and just hoping Snape wouldn't throw it back in his face.

Snape's face showed something close to concern. "Of the possibilities... most are not good," he said honestly. "But whatever it is, we'll figure it out," that was the best Snape could say without flat out lying.

"I thought you said last night I'd be seeing someone Madam Pomfrey knew," Harry challenged, catching Snape in the lie he had told.

"I may have misspoken last night," that was as close to 'I was wrong' as Harry was going to get. He smirked at the thought and felt comforted that Snape would call in a... No, Snape doesn't have friends.

"You won't tell anyone what goes on here right?" Harry asked the question weighing heavily on his mind. The last thing he needed was all of Slytherin knowing his business.

"I have more decorum than you think," Snape felt insulted, but looking at the past 5 years, he couldn't blame the boy. "Anything said or done here is protected from everyone except, unfortunately, your relatives and then of course anyone you choose to disclose the information to."

"Oh... good. So my aunt and uncle still need to know?" Harry figured if he could, he really wanted to leave them out. "The stuff I said last night wasn't just talk, you know, I doubt they'd sign off on anything having to do with me. Unless of course it meant they could get rid of me." Harry felt his face flush. Why was he telling the person he hated almost more than Voldemort about stuff like this? He was prepared to blame the clinical setting for throwing him off.

"The Headmaster is working on alternative arrangements for that as well," was all Snape said. They were getting really close to the topic he wanted to avoid, Sirius. That's who should have been here with Harry and he knew Harry blamed Snape as much as he blamed himself for his godfather's death.

Almost as if sensing what Snape was thinking about, a wave of anger spread through Harry and just as he was about to yell at Snape to leave, the door opened and Healer Smithe walked in. His apprehensive face did nothing to calm the storm in Harry. He sat on the same yellow stool in front of Harry.

"The test showed some abnormalities," the healer tried to explain in a nice way to say something was definitely wrong, but without putting a name to it before the other tests could be run. "It's not a very conclusive result, meaning I'd like to do another test which should give us a better idea what we're dealing with."

To Harry, that sounded like he already knew, but just didn't want to tell him. He was sick of adults making decisions for him, "Just tell me what's going on." Harry needed to know.

"It could be a wide range of things at this point, which is why I don't want to speculate on anything yet," his kind eyes told Harry to just go with it; that if this turned out to be nothing he didn't want to cause Harry to worry over nothing.

"Ok," Harry thought about his Gryffindor bravery. "So what now?"

"The procedure is called a bone marrow aspiration and biopsy. Both are done at the same time and we can do it in the procedure room here," Healer Smithe paused for Harry to nod that he understood so far. "The basic idea is that we'll use a needle to pull out some marrow directly from your hip bone. That will give us a definitive answer to what's going on with you."

Harry didn't want to say anything about how awful that process sounded, or how scared he actually was about it. It's not like he's ever had anyone to lean on in the past, why should he expect any different now.

Lifting his chin a little higher to give himself confidence he said, "Ok."

Walking out of the exam room and towards the procedure room, Harry could barely feel his legs carrying him. Surely whatever was going on, could be fixed pretty easily. He lived in a world with magic and potions, something like that has to be able fix this.

Healer Smithe walked in right behind Harry, but Snape stayed in the hallway. Handing Harry a gown, he said, "I need you to change into this with it open in the back. The procedure will take place here," he pressed on a spot on Harry's back just above his right hip bone. "I'll be back in a couple minutes to get you ready and the whole procedure should take about 30 minutes."

As he left, Harry looked around the room. In the center was a table, softer than the exam table in the previous room but definitely not comfortable looking, and next to that was a tall covered tray which he assumed housed the instruments used for this procedure. Taking off his clothes and folding them neatly on the chair against the wall, he sat on the procedure table and waited.

There was a knock on the door and Healer Smithe ducked his head around the door. "All set?" He asked.

"As much as I'll ever be," Harry mumbled; the feeling of loneliness settling into his chest.

"Is it alright if Professor Snape joins us again? Honestly, this is a hard procedure to do alone," the healer looked sympathetically at Harry.

"Yeah, sure," Harry barely heard what he said as the door opened and his professor walked in. "Hi sir," Harry almost hit himself in the forehead for how stupid he sounded to Snape.

"This will be over before you know it Harry," Snape let the use of the young wizard's given name settle as a truce for what was about to happen.

"I'd like you to lay down on your left side please," Healer Smithe explained patting the other side of the table. "I'll cover up your bottom half with this blanket, since we need to have access to your hip area. Severus, please sit in that chair and try to help keep him calm."

Totally the wrong person for that.

He pointed to a chair that was next to Harry's head when he was laying down. Snape took a seat and they were now face-to-face. "The first thing they'll do is numb the area which should help significantly with the pain," Snape told him, trying to calm the visible nerves of the Boy-Who-Lived. "Just breathe."

Harry felt something cold on his back, right in the area Healer Smithe pointed to earlier. He then felt a quick pinch, like when the blood sample was taken. Remembering to breathe, Harry closed his eyes trying to think about being anywhere but there. He settled on the image and feeling of flying. He didn't know how long he laid there on his side, almost feeling the wind blowing on his face, when he heard someone say, "Here we go."

At first he thought it wasn't so bad. He felt some pressure in the area that he knew they were working in, but with everything he'd faced before it was nothing. Unfortunately, that lasted less than a minute before he felt an intense, sharp pain radiating from his hip bone.

Opening his eyes wide, he immediately grimaced trying not to yell out in pain. Instead, he felt tears coming to eyes and he couldn't stop them from falling. He didn't think about his most hated professor seeing him cry, and he didn't notice when the man took Harry's hands in his own and started saying to him "You're almost there," or "Only a couple more minutes". All he could try to do was focus on the feeling of the hands holding his own, rough from years of grinding and chopping potions ingredients

Later, Harry couldn't have said if it was 5 minutes or 5 hours, but once it finally ended he felt exhausted and sore. He looked up and saw Snape talking to the healer over his head, hands still clamped around his own, now shaking. He carefully removed his hands from Snape's and tried to sit up.

"Hold it there," Snape said gently pushing Harry down. "You need to rest for about 15 minutes to make sure the aspiration site isn't bleeding." He felt something soft push against the sore area of his back.

"Gotcha," he managed to say not looking anyone in the eyes. "That sounds like a perfect idea."

"You did great Harry, like Severus said, just try to relax and we'll be right back in to check the area before you can get up," the healer explained before leaving the room with Snape.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus walked with Alton towards the processing area, "How long until you know for sure?" He asked even though he knew what the results would be.

"I can know in about 40 minutes, but I want to get an extra set of eyes on the sample before giving the final report," his friend explained. "Given that we're dealing with a very rare occurrence in a very well known young wizard, I want to be sure before finalizing the results."

"That's fair," Severus conceded. "I'll see if he can try to eat some lunch while we wait." Alton nodded and walked into the other room to work on the sample.

For the first time since waking up in this reality, he felt like he had some control over the situation. Thinking back to what Harry had just gone through, he couldn't help but feel sad and disappointed by not only how much Harry thought he had to do this alone but also how he just accepts it. He'd have to discuss how they would handle treatments because Harry couldn't stay at his relatives' house with no one as his advocate.

Walking back inside the procedure room, Harry was staring off at the wall.

"Something interesting Mr. Potter?" He said sitting back down in the chair facing Harry.

"Nothing sir, just thinking... Or trying not to think, I guess is more accurate," Harry said monotone.

"Once you're able to get up, let's go grab some lunch in the cafeteria. Healer Smithe wants to consult with another doctor. That will give him time to process the results," Severus could see the young man mulling over what he just said.

A strange, comfortable silence fell between them. Thinking about his next obstacle, convincing Harry to do the muggle treatment, was coming upon him and he had no idea how to handle it.

There was a knock on the door interrupting both wizards' internal thoughts.

"Let's have a look," Alton said, putting on a pair of gloves. "No bleeding, and the site appears ready to go. You'll be sore for the next day or so and you should keep the area dry for 24 hours. Any questions so far?"

"No sir," Harry replied, sitting up very slowly. Severus held out his hand to help support Harry and was surprised when the raven-haired boy took it.

"Go ahead, get dressed, and then we'll grab some lunch downstairs," Severus said handing the pile of clothes to Harry. "I'll be right outside the door if you need any help." Before exiting the room, Severus reapplied the glamours to both of them.

Leaving the room, Severus felt his heart clenched. He wanted nothing more than to help Harry, but instead he was stuck in this impossible situation of being the angry, hated professor. He couldn't even start to think about how all of this would work with his spying duties. It's not like someone just walks away from a dark megalomaniac wizard like Voldemort.

Harry sat down at an empty table while Snape went to grab himself lunch. Harry had declined anything to eat knowing his stomach was too jumbled with nerves to eat. To his surprise, a bowl of chicken soup was placed down in front of him as Snape sat in the seat to his right.

"I said I wasn't hungry," Harry told his professor, not caring that he sounded like a child.

"You need to eat," was all Snape replied, picking up his own sandwich to take a bite.

Easy for you to say, this is probably poisoned...

Against his better judgement, he picked up the spoon and took a sip. The hot soup felt good in his overly empty stomach. Not realizing how hungry he actually was, he started to eat the bowl of soup quickly. The professor and student fell into an uncomfortable silence, neither knowing what to say.

Harry was surprised for the second time in the half-hour by Snape quietly speaking, "I knew your Aunt Petunia from when we were children. We grew up near each other."

It took Harry some time to process what that meant. When he finally did, his eye lit up as he replied, "Then, you had to know my mum." It was not a question.

"Yes," Snape had a blanket of regret over that single word. That single word shattered everything that Harry thought he knew about the professor sitting next to him.

Suddenly, everything that had gone on that day wasn't important; Harry had a million questions he wanted to ask. He'd heard and discovered so much about his dad, but no one really mentioned his mum.

"How well did you know my mum?" instinctively that was the question he started with as he saw the pain in Snape's eyes. Clearly this topic wasn't one he was comfortable talking about which must mean he knew her pretty well.

Snape sighed and looked up at the clock on the far wall of the cafeteria. Harry could tell this was something Snape did not want to discuss, but since he brought it up, he figured it was fair game.

"We used to be very good friends," Snape finally admitted. "We need to get back upstairs, but we can discuss this later."

Harry thought that was completely unfair, "You can't just tell me you were friends with my mum and leave it at that!"

Snape thought about this outburst, secretly happy this was the first time today Harry had had shown some kind of normal emotion. "Fine, you get one question before we go upstairs. Make it a good one."

Harry thought hard about this. If he only got to know one thing about his mother right now, what would it be? He didn't want to pick something trivial, he could find that out later.

"What was she like?" He asked hoping it wasn't too open ended.

Snape sighed. "Let's walk while we talk," he stood as he spoke picking up their lunch dishes and taking them to the drop off window.

"If you ask anyone, they will all tell you Lily was the most kind hearted person you'd ever meet. She genuinely cared about other people. She could see the good in anyone and tried her best to show that person the best in himself.

"She had a temper on her though... Like a firecracker. One minute she's fine and the next she would be up fighting against whatever wrong she thought needed correcting.

"And her capacity for forgiveness was astonishing. Take a look at your aunt for example. No matter how many times Petunia managed to hurt Lily with her cruel words, your mother would always give her another chance. She had her limits though... and once you crossed that line, she wouldn't look back." Snape paused as they waited for the lift to take them back to Healer Smithe's office. "She was intelligent, especially in charms and potions. She had a great laugh; it was infectious... Everyone around her couldn't help but join in when they heard her laughing."

Harry was deep in thought about his mum and what she would have been like if she were still with him. Would she be trying to make him laugh with everything going on today? Or would she be a quiet observer letting him lead the day but ready to jump in if things got bad?

"I thought my mum grew up in the muggle world?" Somehow that was the first question to come to his mind after everything he'd heard. How would Snape have known his mum if she grew up with muggles?

"That's two questions and I said you could ask one," Snape lectured. He already expected this to come up, "Yes, she did grow up in the muggle world, as did I."

Harry stopped walking for a second, trying to process what he'd just heard Snape admit. Somehow it was hard to imagine Snape in a house with electricity and a telly. Actually, if he was honest about what he expected from Snape's house, it would have coffins and potion ingredients everywhere.

"Wait a minute..." Harry called out running to catch up to stop Snape before they entered the office in front of them. "Aren't you a pureblood?"

Turning around, Snape looked Harry in the eyes narrowing them as if he was contemplating if Harry would indeed survive this line of questioning. "That's false," he admitted, "I'm actually a half-blood. Now if you're through we're needed back inside."

He opened the door and half guided, half pushed Harry through the doorway. The young wizard had no way of knowing that he'd reacted exactly as his professor had hoped and had been completely distracted from where they were headed.

Harry was definitely distracted with the large amount of information he had found out about his mum and Snape in such a small amount of time. The more he thought about it, he was growing angry with Snape. How could he have been friends with his mum and not say a single word about it? What kind of person does that to someone orphaned before he was two? Not that he should have expected any different from the man, but this was kind of a big deal.

Not paying attention to where he was going, he ran right into Snape's back. They were outside of Healer Smithe's office.

When did we get back here?

"Sorry sir," he said when Snape whipped around and glared at him. Or at least he assumed it was a glare, on second thought, he didn't seem nearly as annoyed as Harry would have expected.

"Have a good lunch?" Healer Smithe asked, walking up behind Harry and Snape.

"Yeah," Harry mumbled looking down at his trainers.

"Come on in," the healer said, "take a seat and I'll be right there."

Harry walked in as Snape held the door open, removing their glamours in the process, and took a seat in the comfortable red chair on the right side of the desk. Bookshelves covered the walls to his left and right with all sorts of books Harry recognized as both magical and muggle, and certificates were displayed on the wall in front of Harry, behind the healers desk.

His legs were nervously bouncing as the healer walked in and took a seat behind the desk. This was it, there was no going back to ignorant bliss after this.

"First, I want to make sure you're ok with Professor Snape sitting in. It's completely up to what you're comfortable with seeing as I don't know, officially, who your medical proxy will be," his gentle eyes looked into Harry's emerald ones and Harry knew this was going to be bad news.

"Erm... Yeah. That's fine," he wasn't 100% sure of that himself, but he also assumed that Snape would be brewing whatever potions were needed to fix this problem anyway, so it wouldn't really matter in the end.

"Ok, good. Severus, could you close the door? And please sit if you'd be more comfortable," he gestured to the chair on Harry's left. This definitely wasn't going to be good news.

Once the door was closed and Snape sitting he continued, "The blood sample we took this morning showed a high number of lymphoblasts; those are young white blood cells. This can be indicative of a type of cancer called Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia. It's a cancer, or more simply put, a set of cells growing at an abnormally high rate, found in the blood. We confirmed this with the bone marrow aspiration and biopsy." He spoke slowly and then waited to make sure the information was processed. He was trying to keep it at the level a 15 year old wizard could understand.

Harry had kept a stoic face, but nodded that he had understood. There was a girl in his 3rd year primary school with cancer, something that was in her brain. While Harry didn't know her well, he did know she didn't come back in their 4th year. He shivered thinking about it. "So, what does this mean for me?"

"It's complicated," Healer Smithe honestly replied, "cancer is very rarely seen in witches and wizards. That's not to say we don't see any cases, it's just most of the time we see them in muggleborns, wizards with weaker magical signatures, or squibs. None of which describe you.

"Either way, we shouldn't necessarily be focusing on the why, but instead on what we're going to do about it. While this type of cancer is aggressive," that definitely didn't sound good to Harry, "it's the most common childhood cancer, and generally responds well to treatment." Finally, some good news... relatively speaking.

When the healer paused, Harry looked up and both men we're looking at him, "Oh, that's good... Right?" He felt the need to ask.

"Absolutely. And as a wizard, you have a couple extra options to choose from-"

"No," Snape interrupted. Harry's head swung around quickly. "Alton, be realistic, the wizarding potions aren't anywhere near where they need to be compared to the muggle treatments for this condition."

Harry looked confused. "Why would I choose one over the other?" He really thought this was a bad time to try to process everything. His head felt extremely fuzzy.

"Don't worry Harry, we'll give you all the information and recommendations to make the best decision going forward, and rest assured you don't need to make any decisions on your own," Healer Smithe's kind eyes relaxed Harry's pounding heart. "There are a couple things we need to schedule to do in the immediate, the first is another test to see if the cancer has spread anywhere like your spinal cord or brain. Like I said, this is an aggressive disease, so we need to cover everything we can. Do you have any questions?" There's that word again, aggressive.

"Um... Well..." Harry had many questions but his thoughts were so jumbled he couldn't put a sentence together. Cancer, seriously? And something so rare for a wizard like him. Why him? First Sirius, then the prophecy, and now this? What was he supposed to think?

"... Harry?"

He was brought back to the present by Snape calling him his given name again. He was suddenly aware that Healer Smithe had been talking to him. "Sorry sir," Harry quickly added. "What did you say?"

"We'll schedule the lumbar test for tomorrow morning, if that's ok," Harry nodded at this, what else was he supposed to do? Who was he to argue with the healer? "And I'd like you to consider the different treatment options available tonight. It's extremely important that we start treatment as soon as possible. It's the best way to beat this." He made eye contact with Harry again. "And you will beat this, ok?"

"Yes sir," was all Harry could say. Have I said anything of importance yet? "So, what are the options? If Professor Snape says potions won't work, then is there really any choice?"

Snape's eyebrows shot up at the acknowledgement of his proper title, probably for the first time ever without malice, followed by a compliment.

Healer Smithe took a long look at Snape and Harry saw a flash of concern pass by both their faces.

"Well, Harry it's not that simple," the healer started delicately. "Like I said, being a wizard makes this a bit more complicated than a muggle.

"The typical muggle treatment is called chemotherapy. It's a set of medications that will kill off the cancer cells, or the cells that are growing too quickly, which are invading your bloodstream. For this type of cancer, when caught early, it has a really good prognosis. About 9 out 10 cases will end up in remission after the first intensive round, which means the cancer cells are no longer present in your blood. You would still need to go through more chemotherapy after that first phase to make sure it stays gone, but like I said the prognosis is very good for full remission."

"But..." Harry prompted. If it was that successful and potions weren't then what was the issue?

"But, the chemotherapy can't target only the cancer cells. In the process of killing the bad ones, some of the good cells get killed too. It can cause some pretty bad side effects, which we can do our best to make as manageable as possible. In a wizard though, the magical core reacts to the killing of the good cells as an attack on the body and it will attempt to use your magic to counteract that process."

"So, my magic would make the chemotherapy less effective?" That seemed logical.

"Not quite," the healer said slowly, "instead the magic may get worn out from fighting against a process it can't stop."

Harry's face was blank for a split second until his brain caught on to what Healer Smithe was describing.

"I could lose my magic?" Harry confirmed.

"It is a possibility, but remember in the times we've seen wizards get any type of cancer, they've been considered to have a 'weak magical signature'. So it's also possible that because their magical core started out on the lower end, it couldn't survive." The healer exhaled hard now that all the information was out in the open.

"I can't risk that!" Harry called out, getting frantic, "I need my magic. You have no idea how much I need it." How was he supposed to fight the darkest wizard of all time without any magic?

"I just want you to consider all pros and cons of both," the healer said. "We can discuss it more tomorrow when you're back for the other test. Then we can figure out the logistics of treatment." Turning to Snape he asked, "Will either his guardians or medical proxy be here tomorrow? I absolutely need one of them to sign off on the treatment plan and schedule."

"I'll message Albus as soon as we're done here to get that completed," Snape said. Harry thought the man was taking all this rather well for basically babysitting someone whom he's hated for the last almost 6 years.

"Ok then," Healer Smithe stood up, "Harry you should rest today, keep off your hip, and I'll see you in the morning."

Harry stood up, his hip protesting from sitting in the chair so long - how long have I been here - and shook Healer Smithe's hand. "Thank you sir, I'll see you tomorrow." Not quite sure this was a thank you moment, but it was polite.

He felt the glamour being placed back on as he was walking out the door with Snape. Harry had nothing to say, but a million thoughts went through his mind. One step at a time... first decision, picking a treatment option of course, like anything else in his life, did he really have an option? He can't be The Chosen One without magic, so that was it.

"Mr. Potter?" Harry heard Snape say.

So we're back to Potter

"Sorry sir, I didn't hear you."

"Are you ready to disapparate?" his professor asked, causing Harry to look around. Not only were they out of the hospital, but they were already at the apparation point.

"Oh, yeah. Let's go." He noticed that Snape was holding a bunch of papers most likely about his condition and treatment.

This time when he landed, Harry couldn't keep his stomach calm and sicked up his lunch right in front of Snape. Doubled over, he expected to hear a snide remark from his professor, but instead Harry felt one strong hand on his shoulder and the other in his back.

Falling to the ground, Harry sat there with his knees drawn, arms resting on top of them, and his head resting on his arms. He felt completely defeated, tired, and sore; he couldn't imagine getting up and facing his relatives after everything that had happened.

He was surprised again when he felt Snape sit down next to him, in the grass of all places. He peered over his arms next to him as he felt Snape's eyes on him.

"Just give me a minute," Harry asked, tucking his head back down. He just really wanted to fall asleep right there on the grass.

"How about this," Snape sounded sympathetic which made Harry angry. "Let's get back to your relatives so we both can be safe, you rest a bit and I'll talk to your aunt. I also need to get in touch with Albus. Is your owl available?"

Harry lifted his head still feeling defeated, "No, I sent Hedwig to the Burrow." He stood up, wiped his jeans off and started walking toward Privet Drive.

"You could probably talk to Mrs. Figg, I'm sure she has a way to contact Dumbledore," Harry called over his shoulder, also checking to see if Snape was following him. Satisfied when he saw the man waking a pace behind he continued, "Seems like he'll talk to everyone but me. He has no problem talking about me to them either. But if I need him, or anyone else, I'm left completely alone!"

By now Harry had made it to the front garden of #4 and had turned around to face his professor yelling. "You tell him that Snape! Just tell him about everything that happened today so he can try to 'manipulate' it all like he does best"

Harry pulled open the front door and stomped inside; Snape barely had the chance to get inside before he slammed the door closed. "Or better yet," Harry continued to yell, "tell him not to worry... Tell him I know exactly what I'm supposed to do and he doesn't have to worry about me messing up his master plan!"

Feeling light headed, he grabbed the railing on the stairs to help hold him upright as he climbed to his bedroom. He didn't notice his aunt enter the room or how Snape was staring at him deeply confused by the teen's outburst.

~~~~SS~~~~

That was expected

Petunia walked into the entrance from the sitting room at the tail end of Harry's rant.

"What is all this-" she started before Severus grabbed her wrist preventing her from running up after her nephew.

"We need to talk," Severus told her in a tone she shouldn't think of disobeying.

Stupidly, Petunia sneered at him, "I don't need to do anything you say, Snape."

He maintained his grasp on her wrist as he dragged her into the kitchen and pushed her into the chair at the table. It was already late afternoon, but the sky had become overcast and threatened rain while he and Harry had been at the hospital, so it was now dark and dreary inside the house.

"I couldn't care less about what you think. Right now, you're going to listen to me or trust me it will be the absolute last thing you do on this Earth," Severus threatened. "We're in an impossible situation. The last place Harry needs to be is under your roof, but even I can admit he needs to stay here for his protection."

"As usual, you're making absolutely no sense," she spat back at him.

Severus glared evilly at her before explaining, "Your nephew just found he is very sick," Severus put the folder he was carrying onto the table and opened it. In the front was a pamphlet which he picked up and tossed to Petunia. He watched her eyes widen as she read the title, "Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia".

"I don't understand..." She started saying and then paused, "we can't..." She tried starting again.

"You don't have to pretend with me Tuney," Severus said with disgust, "we both know you have no intention of doing a single thing to help him, let alone actually take care of him through all this."

"Well, then what do you want," she asked insensitivity.

Severus glared at her, "I need you to give him space. Albus Dumbledore is working on getting him a medical proxy and will be in touch tonight to discuss long-term plans. You can expect me back tonight with him. I'll tell you what you're going to do then."

He stood up to leave as Dudley waddled into the kitchen. He met eyes with Severus, then turned around and left. At least I've managed to scare one person today.

Checking up the stairs to make sure Harry had gone to his room, he walked out the front door prepared to apparate to Hogwarts when his left forearm started to burn.

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry was excited, more excited then he'd felt in a long time. He was finally going to get exactly what he'd been waiting for. Walking around an extravagant room full of rich furniture, he felt drunk on power as he eyed his faithful servants before him.

"Wormtail, approach," he called out.

"Yes, my Lord," he bowed in front of Harry and kissed the hem of his dark robes.

"Where are we with the summer plan?" He needed this finished once and for all. If only he could get past them.

"It will work my Lord," Wormtail trembled. "I'm getting everything in order as we speak."

"Perfect! When will it be ready?" Things were looking positive for the first time since the Ministry of Magic disaster.

"Within two weeks, my Lord. We'll be ready by then."

"Severus," Harry called out, now ignoring Wormtail. "Where is the boy this summer?"

"With his relatives as always." Severus explained. "I've heard of no plans to move him.

" And he'll be there all summer?" Harry had to know.

"Typically he's spent the last couple weeks before term elsewhere, but nothing has been set for that yet," Severus said bowing before him.

He has been frustrated with Severus's lack of information lately, but as the only person on the inside of Hogwarts, he was a necessity.

"Perfect, that's perfect to hear."

The last thing Harry saw was his reflection in the oriental mirror as he walked by and was surprised at the red eyes staring back at him

Back in the smallest room at #4 Privet Drive, Harry jumped up out of bed. He was still in the same clothes from this morning, laying on top of the thin blanket. He had no idea how long he'd been asleep, but he still felt exhausted, his head was throbbing with the beat of his heart, and his scar was burning. Taking his hand, he pressed on his scar and felt the familiar trickle of blood coming out of it.

He grabbed the bottom of his shirt to wipe the blood from his forehead. Not the best option, but it was better than nothing. Seeing the bloodstains on the shirt reminded him of what he was told earlier, or was that yesterday? There are cancer cells in that blood. Peeking through the window, the sun was going down, so it was still the same horrible day.

He got up, not bothering to change his shirt, his hip was still very sore. Limping carefully to the door, he opened it surprised to find Dudley passing by him.

"I can't believe mum let you sleep the whole day," he said and Harry could have sworn he heard a hint of regret in his voice, "dad's not going to let you get away with it."

"Nothing he can do about it now," Harry mumbled, feeling still very tired. He walked down the stairs, ready to start on dinner and saw that dinner had been over based on the dishes in the sink. Had his aunt actually let him sleep instead waking him to help cook?

Thinking that over, he passed by the table and saw the folder Snape brought from the hospital scattered across the tabletop. Clearly someone had gone through all the information in it, something he should probably do as well. He continued walking to the sink and started washing the dishes. Maybe this would stop whatever punishment he would be getting for sleeping half the day.

He was so lost in his thoughts he didn't see his cousin walk into the kitchen. Dudley sat down at the table and was examining the papers that were scattered across it. Harry looked up after he finished drying the last dish and saw a small plate at the end of the counter with a ham sandwich on it. Taking the plate too tired to consider who left it, he went to sit down at the other end of the table away from Dudley. Both boys sat in silence until Harry had almost finished the sandwich, not realizing again how hungry he actually had been.

"Is this yours?" Dudley asked quietly, swishing his hand over the table.

"Yup," Harry said, standing up, bringing the plate to the sink and starting to wash it. He had a slight limp from his sore hip. "Where are your parents?"

"Oh, I dunno. Mom's here somewhere, but I don't think dad's home yet." Dudley shrugged. "Are you gonna be ok?"

Harry shook his head like he was trying to clear a bug out of his ear when heard a knock on the front door. "Does it really matter?" he said quietly as he passed his cousin heading towards the door to answer it.

His aunt made it to the door first and when Harry got there, Dumbledore was standing in the entrance way in bright yellow and silver robes. He couldn't look further from a muggle and Harry had to hold back his smirk at Aunt Petunia's horrified face.

"Hi sir," Harry called out from the kitchen door. "Erm, what are you doing here?"

"Ah, Harry, just the person I was looking for," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. Who else did he expect to find here?

"Excuse me," Petunia said, "what exactly is going on?"

Dumbledore turned towards his aunt, "Let's take a seat, shall we?" As the headmaster was about to move, the door was pushed open and Snape walked in the room. Harry suddenly remembered his vision and made eye contact with Snape. He didn't look like he had been at a death eater meeting, but how exactly is one supposed to look after spying?

"Oh, good Severus. I take it we have a lot to discuss tonight?" Dumbledore asked no-so-quietly.

"You could say that," Snape replied and walked into the sitting room completely ignoring Petunia.

Dumbledore took off into the sitting room and sat on the sofa waiting for them. Harry followed Petunia and sat across from Dumbledore with Petunia sitting in the chair to his left and Snape standing behind him making Harry very uncomfortable.

"It seems you've received some rather upsetting news today Harry. I'm so sorry you are having to go through this," Harry thought the headmaster sounded sincere, but he wasn't so sure he could trust the man. Not knowing what to say, he just nodded. "We have a couple things to discuss relating to your illness.

"First of all, at the recommendation of Professor Snape, I took the liberty of filing for a medical proxy for you." He paused to let Harry think about that. When he looked confused, Dumbledore asked "Do you know what that is Harry?"

"Not really," Harry admitted, "Healer Smithe mentioned it. That either my guardian or medical proxy has to be at the appointment tomorrow to sign off on the treatment plan."

Dumbledore stood and started pacing the sitting room, "Since you're underage, you're not old enough to make decisions like this without an adult to assist you. That usually falls to your guardians," he peered at Aunt Petunia, "who are expected to make decisions with your best interest in mind. Occasionally, when it's believed the guardian cannot or will not make a decision based on the best interest of the child, another person can be assigned that duty. A medical proxy gives someone outside your guardians the rights to make medical decisions on your behalf.

"Given that you're a wizard, I was able to start the process discreetly at the ministry and they've assigned another person to oversee your care. I take it you don't contest such an arrangement Petunia?" Dumbledore and Snape watched Harry closely.

"Absolutely not, someone else can do all that," Petunia sounded angry which hurt Harry more than her confession to not wanting him. Could this day get any worse?

"Oh good, that will make this process infinitely easier. I have some papers for you to sign relinquishing your medical responsibility for Harry," he waved his hand and papers flew onto the coffee table in front of them.

"So, who is responsible for my medical decisions?" Harry asked thinking it was odd the headmaster hasn't said yet.

"That would be Professor Snape," Dumbledore said casually.

I was wrong, it can get worse.

"No," was all Harry could say. "Why not Mr. or Mrs. Weasley? Or Remus? I'm sure any of them would be more than happy to," Harry was panicking now. Snape could not be in charge of his medical decisions. He'd just heard the man tell Voldemort where he was for the summer! But he didn't say anything about the cancer. He shook that thought from his mind.

"After a lot of consideration, Professor Snape is the best option to give you what you need. I don't think you'd like to burden the Weasley's with an illness like this one and Remus can't be with you at all the times you may need him. Plus he legally cannot."

"But professor," Harry pleaded, "there's got to be someone else."

"By all means Potter," Snape finally joined the conversation, "don't try to hide any of your feelings on my account."

Was that a joke?

Picking up the papers on the coffee table, Dumbledore added, "It's already completed Harry. I think you'll find he has the capability to help you beyond what you'd even imagine possible."

Not likely, but whatever Harry was too tired to argue.

"That leads us to our next piece of business. Treatment options," the old professor said. Harry thought for the first time, he was beginning to look his age.

"Do I need to be here for this?" Aunt Petunia rudely asked standing up.

"You're not done yet Tuney," Snape snarled, "sit down."

Petunia sat down instantly and Harry enjoyed getting to see his aunt look terrified. He couldn't hide this smirk.

"No offense, but can we just get to the point," Harry finally said. "I'm exhausted and really want to go to bed."

"Oh course Harry," Dumbledore smiled at him. "We need to discuss your treatment, or rather you and professor Snape need to discuss it."

Harry eyed his potions professor warily. "So let me try to work this out," he replied. "My options are to either go the magical route with potions, I'm guessing an awful lot of them, but I could die because there's not much success of them working or I could take muggle treatment but I could lose my magic..." He looked at Dumbledore, "Which is a pretty big deal right now, what with the war and all."

Dumbledore nodded slightly and Harry was unsure if it was because of the options or because of his involvement in the war.

"Professor Snape," Harry asked, "what kind of potions would I take?"

"They're specially created for each witch or wizard," Harry wouldn't know that he was intentionally trying to be vague. "They basically aid your magic in killing off the cancer cells. Like Healer Smithe mentioned this afternoon, there's very few cases where it was successful. Part of which is due to so few wizarding cases of the disease to begin with."

"So wait minute," Aunt Petunia interrupted, "you have magic but your magic can't even help you now?" She sounded like she was gloating which Harry did not need to hear.

"Yeah, Aunt Petunia that's pretty much it," Harry said sadly. "Is there really a choice? I can't save the wizarding world when I have no magic." He asked, genuinely confused.

"Harry," Snape said, finally sitting down where Dumbledore was previously sitting, across from Harry. "I would be the one making the potions, and I can tell you it's not good enough. It's not worth the risk on your life. I am the top Potions Master in the U.K. and probably most of Europe, I know we don't always see eye to eye, but I know what I'm talking about with this."

That was unexpected.

"I understand sir," Harry thought hard about what was just said. "What happens with Voldemort," Snape hissed when he said the name, "if I lose my magic?"

"Then everyone else goes on fighting," Snape explained looking at Dumbledore for help, but getting none. Snape threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

"Harry," the blue-eyed wizard finally said, "ultimately, you need to make the decision best for you, not me, and not the wizarding world."

Harry could hear the desperation in his voice and knew that Dumbledore didn't completely feel that way. He didn't like the position he was put into. What if he kept his magic but the cancer wasn't gone before getting to defeat Voldemort? If he truly believed the prophecy and he was destined to be The Chosen One, then did it matter which option he chose?

"Can I think about it tonight?"

"Of course," Snape replied, staring at Dumbledore.

"Petunia," the Headmaster said "Professor Snape will be back in the morning to accompany your nephew again. You will also have the pleasure of his company as your house guest until we can make other arrangements for Harry's care." He looked over his spectacles at her, "I take it this will not be a problem either?"

Aunt Petunia clearly looked angry and disgusted, but just sharply nodded her head.

"Wonderful. If that's all here, I believe you and I have some things to catch up upon, Severus." He walked to the door with Snape right behind him. "Good night Harry."

Harry heard the door close and wanted nothing more to go to sleep to find out this has been one long dream. Instead, his uncle walked in the door and screamed, "BOY! What were those freaks doing at this house!" as he was attempting to walk quickly into the kitchen assuming that was where Harry would be.

Nope, not dealing with this now

Harry looked at Aunt Petunia who appeared to be deep in thought, she didn't notice him stand up and leave the room for the stairs. He'd just missed Uncle Vernon as he entered his bedroom. Not bothering to change his clothes, he curled up in bed trying to ignore his uncle's footsteps coming up the stairs. His door was opened so quickly it slammed against the wall definitely leaving a crack.

"Your chores are not done. Get out of bed this instant," he screamed to Harry, his face turning the famous purple color.

"I really don't care Uncle Vernon," he didn't even lift his head from the pillow or open his eyes.

"Don't you dare. After everything your aunt and I have done for you," he sneered walking over to Harry's bed and pulling his head up by the back of his hair. "You do not disrespect us. I expect today's chores to be done with tomorrow's. Might I suggest you get started tonight."

He pushed Harry's head back down and left the room. Harry did not hear the locks on the outside of the door, clearly supposed to mean that he should do the chores overnight.

Not going to happen.

He fell asleep thinking about magic and medicine, Voldemort and Snape, and finally his friends. In a matter of days, his whole life had drastically changed and he can't even tell them a single thing about it yet.

Harry woke up to the sun shining through the bedroom window. Feeling rested for the first time in weeks, he was sure the last couple days were all just a horrible nightmare. Grabbing his glasses from the desk, not even sure when he'd taken them off, he put them on and looked at the clock.

7:30?! I missed making breakfast

Groaning, he got out of bed, feeling the dull ache in his right hip... Nope, definitely not a horrible nightmare.

He changed his clothes and was ready for the day in record time. Deciding on the same jeans from yesterday - they were his best looking ones after all - and a blue t-shirt that was very much oversized for his small frame. Walking downstairs slowly, he jumped in surprise to see a man with short blonde hair sitting at the table with his back towards Harry. The man was wearing a light green button down shirt and black trousers. He was reading the paper ignoring the scared look from Harry's cousin sitting across from the man.

"M- morning H- H- harry," Dudley stuttered.

"What's up with you?" Harry questioned.

"Um..." His cousin didn't answer, instead he stared ahead at the mysterious man.

"Excuse me," Harry approached the man feeling annoyed that his cousin was useless, and let out the breath he'd been holding when he saw the familiar face.

"Professor Snape?" He asked bewildered. In front of him was the same glamoured Snape from yesterday. "You could have said something. Dudley looks like he's about to have a heart attack."

"Interesting. I was just setting down some ground rules for my upcoming stay," he slowly said. "I have no control over his reaction to said rules."

Harry rolled his eyes and sat down, grabbing a piece of toast from a plate on the table.

"You need to eat more than that," Snape lectured handing Harry the bowl of scrambled eggs and a plate. Pausing for a second and then deciding Snape wouldn't actually poison him in the broad daylight of his kitchen, he put a small portion on the plate with his toast, then started eating.

"Where's Aunt Petunia?"

"Your aunt didn't feel the need to be here this morning ," Snape tried to smirk, but it didn't give the same sinister look from his glamoured face, "so I sent her for some supplies."

"You sent her sir? And she went?"

"As you know, I can be very convincing. She wasn't given much of a choice. Now finish up, we have to go." Snape stood up and left the room abruptly with the folder of Harry's paperwork from the hospital.

"He's st- staying with us?" a very pale Dudley asked. Harry had no doubt he was thinking about his rough encounters with wizards.

"Unfortunately. At least for a little bit anyway." Harry wasn't sure if this was good or not. If Snape could send his aunt out for errands and he was able to eat, then it may be worth putting up with him. Maybe.

"You'll be fine Big D and if not I'll see you as potions ingredients next term," Harry smirked at the thought. He stood up to head out with Snape and grabbed the edge of the table when a dizzy spell hit him.

Satisfied he wasn't about to topple over, he set his plate in the sink commiting to do the dishes when he returned. He walked out of the kitchen to the front door where his professor was waiting.

"I have your school truck upstairs in the room your relatives are grudgingly letting me use," Snape said, taking his own wand out and pointing it at Harry, who somehow managed to only flinch slightly. Once he felt the glamour back on, he opened the door.

"Ready professor?"

Harry landed at the apparation point feeling only slightly disoriented and did not have the urge to lose his breakfast. Though proud of himself for the successful apparation, he still liked that form of magical travel the least.

As they walked towards the hospital Snape casually asked, "Have you thought anymore of treatment options? Healer Smithe will want to get everything in order quickly."

Trying to keep a steady pace so it didn't seem like he was thrown off with the question he answered, "Actually I have."

They walked the rest of the way in silence and just before entering the doors Snape looked over at him, "Care to share it with me before we go in? I don't wish to be blind sided if I have any concerns."

Giving a hard sigh, Harry went to sit on a bench right outside the door. It made sense that Snape would want to know, but he really hoped to avoid the topic completely.

"I just don't want to disappoint anyone," he finally said, hating his shaky voice. "I know this is my decision; it's my body and my life, but sometimes it doesn't seem like it."

"At the end of the day, I'm responsible for your medical care. I need to know what your wishes are regardless of if I agree with them," Snape said, feeling like he was in for a fight. "This is why we should discuss it before we go upstairs."

Taking a deep breath, Harry admitted, "I want to do the muggle treatment."

Snape's head shot up, clearly not expecting that answer. "And you're sure?"

"I know Professor Dumbledore will be disappointed, but it feels like it's the right decision to make. I don't know why, but it does." Harry was confused when he'd realized himself which option he wanted to do. If nothing else, he felt like he had some control this way instead of the magical way.

"Maybe with a stronger magical core than most who do chemotherapy, I won't lose too much magic. And if I do, well, then someone else will have to deal with Voldemort." He felt more relieved than he would say out loud by admitting that. "Can we go now?"

"You'll hear no arguments from me," Snape turned back towards the door. "This is why I'm here," he whispered so quietly he thought Harry couldn't hear, but instead Harry walked behind the man looking very puzzled. If Snape agreed, maybe he needed to rethink his decision.

They were back up in Healer Smithe's procedure room, glamours now removed, much sooner than Harry had hoped. He remembered the painful bone marrow test from yesterday and felt anxious about what was going to happen.

"First we're going to do what's called a spinal tap," Healer Smithe explained after Harry had taken his shirt off and was waiting for the test to start. "It should be relatively quick and what we're checking is to see if any of the cancer cells have spread to your spinal cord and subsequently your brain. Unfortunately, it's a very common occurrence for this type of cancer.

"For this test, I'm going to have you lean forward," he handed Harry a pillow, "onto this pillow. If it's ok, Professor Snape will help hold the position. I'm going to numb the spot, but it's very important that you sit extremely still for this test."

Harry nodded in understanding. Snape was going to be temporarily living with him, so he'd best get used to the man's help. Though he was still wary of the reasoning behind that help.

"Ok, here we go," he'd heard the healer say behind him and felt something cold on the lower part of his spine.

Overall the procedure went pretty well considering he had the bone marrow biopsy fresh in his mind. The most difficult part was knowing Snape was over his bent body and he couldn't move. Hopefully, he'd not have to repeat that anytime in the near future. He put his shirt back on and they all walked over to the healer's office.

Once the door was closed and everyone was seated, Harry noticed a lot of paperwork across his desk.

"I've received the medical proxy papers from Albus this morning. Harry, are you comfortable with the new arrangements?" Healer Smithe waved his hand towards Snape as he asked. It's not like he had much of a choice, but it felt good to be asked.

"Erm, yes sir. Professor Dumbledore came over to my relatives' house last night and explained everything," he was nervous, but not about Snape being responsible for him. This whole process was getting to him; he was scared to think there would be a time it would be considered normal.

"Ok, just checking. And have you both discussed the treatment options?"

"There wasn't much to discuss," Harry explained. "Professor Snape agreed with the option I wanted to go with."

"That certainly makes things easier," Healer Smithe was pleased. "And which route are you wanting to take?" From his conversation with the professor yesterday, he already could guess but wanted Harry to say it out loud. The more patients use the words, the easier it was to believe the reality.

"The chemotherapy sir," Harry said looking downward slumping his shoulders. "It sounds like there's more success that way."

Snape had a small smile creep up on his face. He knew it would be a long road for them both, but in the end it would be worth the risks.

"Perfect, that was my recommendation too. Unfortunately the magical world just doesn't see this enough to have the right potions available. Maybe with more research, someday we can be there, but that day is not today."

A paper appeared on his desk. Healer Smithe picked it up and examined the results. He looked pleased which made Harry feel slightly better about everything.

"Your spinal tap was clean; no cancer in the spinal cord. This means you'll just be doing some specialized preventative chemo to make sure it stays that way," his kind eyes made Harry feel like he did something right even though he ultimately had no control over almost anything anymore.

"That sounds like a promising start," he felt stupid saying but Harry thought he should say something about it.

Healer Smithe chuckled, "Yes, yes it is Harry. As for the other ways we treat your leukemia, it's done in 3 primary phases - induction, consolidation, and maintenance. I'd like the focus today to be discussing the induction phase; we have plenty of time to go through the long-term timeline, but we need to get started as soon as possible on the induction chemo."

"Of course," Harry said. "One question though, how long is each phase?"

The healer took a longer than normal pause before answering, "Well it obviously varies from person to person and a lot that depends on how well induction therapy goes. Our goal there is to get this into remission or where there are no more cancer cells in your bone marrow. The first phase will be 29 days followed by a week break. Most of the time it will go into remission after this. If not, then we start another round of induction chemotherapy. "

"Oh, well that doesn't sound too bad," Harry said. If he was lucky he'd be done by the start of term.

"I don't want to oversimplify this Harry," the healer warned, "it's a hard 29 days. Then, if remission is reached, we start consolidation which can last as long as 6 - 9 months, and if you're still in remission, maintenance starts. If it all goes smoothly, the whole process lasts 3 years." Seeing Harry's face start to panic he quickly continued, "but we'll take it one phase at a time."

This sounded like he was about to climb a mountain and he was sitting on his arse at the base. Plus there was an evil dark wizard who was going to try to kill him while climbing this mountain. He tried to push that last thought out of his mind, it was too much.

"Oh, ok." Harry felt Snape's eyes on him probably for his less than eloquent response.

"I've consulted with one of our pediatric oncologists, which is a doctor that specializes in cancer in children and adolescents, on your treatment schedule and to get you started," he pulled out a folder and opened it. Then looked over at Snape and said, "She's a muggle, but has a brother who is a wizard so she's familiar with our world. I know Albus wants as few people as possible directly involved, but at some point she may need to be more hands on. Right now, she knows I'm taking the lead - which I'm perfectly qualified to do," that last part was directed to Harry before turning back to Snape, "and that it's a magical child, but she doesn't know the identity of the patient. I highly suggest you, Poppy, and Albus meet with her to go over his files though and familiarize yourselves with the treatments."

"Madam Pomfrey will be involved in all this?" Harry really wanted to leave his Hogwarts life separate.

Snape jumped in to answer, "Since you'll be doing treatments back at school in the fall, she absolutely will be. Your 'medical team' will be me, Healer Smithe, and Madam Pomfrey for your primary care. Albus obviously knows, and your professors will need to know as you will be missing classes at times."

This sounded so much more complicated than he thought it would be. That's not even counting his friends and the other students who will inevitably find out.

"Harry," there was Healer Smithe's calm voice and kind eyes again, "this is not something you should be ashamed of or try to hide. You will do significantly better overall if you have people who support you and care for you around to help. You should not try to do this alone."

Harry glared out the corner of his eye at Snape. Both of them knew Harry historically didn't do well asking for help. Not to mention he was going to be starting this process at his relatives' house with a professor who hates him. Although thinking more about that last part, he wasn't so sure anymore.

"I'll try sir." That was the best he could commit to at the current moment.

Talking to Snape the healer added, "I also understand that you want to do as much of the treatments at his home?"

Wait, what? Harry's head shot up.

"Excuse me..."

"Mr. Potter, you're at the top of the Dark Lord's list to hunt down and kill," Snape was never one to sugar coat things, "the less you need to leave your aunt and uncle's house, the better."

That's fair... No reason to go through all this to save my life just to have Voldemort get me.

"So given that you won't be doing treatments here, you need to either have a catheter or port inserted," Healer Smithe handed Harry 2 papers - one on catheters and the other on ports. "Both options make getting the chemo, any other medications, or tests extremely easy. My recommendation is the port which is a small device inserted near your collarbone and it's completely under the skin. It's accessible with a small needle, but not nearly as bad as getting an I.V. each time. They can also last for the entire treatment phases, and because it's under the skin you can shower and bathe as normal."

Given the choice, the port sounded the easiest option too, "What's the bad part of the port?"

"The big downfall is that it needs to be surgically inserted. You'll be under general anesthesia during the procedure," the healer didn't seem too concerned about it, so Harry didn't ask. He wasn't sure how much more information he could hold in his brain.

Noticing Harry was getting overwhelmed, Snape added, "We can go over this again if you need to."

Did he really miss the chance to insult my feeble mind?

"So this port will let me get my chemo done from my aunt's house?" he really just wanted to get back on track.

"Exactly. I'll be coming by your house for each treatment," Healer Smithe explained and Harry thought about how inconvenient that must be for the man. Handing Snape another set of papers he continued, "Here's a list of the over the counter medications he'll need as well as other general supplies, some basic recommendations, and how to help keep his surroundings clean. We'll be monitoring his blood cell count, but especially because he'll be home you should try to limit his exposure."

Harry had no idea what they were talking about and he hated to admit that he'd just ask Snape later to explain it. This was all over what could concentrate on.

"I see we're losing you Harry," the healer smiled at him.

"Sorry sir."

"It's a lot of information. You should read through the pamphlets I'm sending home with you and you're lucky to have Professor Snape proficient in the medical field; he can help walk you through any of this too."

Yeah, lucky me he thought sarcastically.

"We'll finish up so you can go rest. We can't get the port done today, so you'll need to come back tomorrow. The chemo schedule we've put in place is going to be roughly 4 times a week and will start this Sunday. You'll have a daily steroid to take, starting today, which you'll take orally; I've sent over the prescription which should be ready before you leave. We can go through the detailed schedule when I'm there Sunday for the first dose."

If Harry felt like his head was spinning before, it was nothing compared to now. This was too much. Hermione would relish in all these small details, but he really didn't.

"Sorry if this isn't the right thing to say but...," he met Healer Smithe's eyes and saw sympathy within them. He hated people feeling sorry for him so he looked back down at his trainers,"...I know you said we would take this one phase at a time, but can we do it - I don't know- one week at a time instead?" There, he'd basically admitted he was a "dunderhead" in Snape's words.

"Of course," his head shot up so fast he felt dizzy. Was that really Snape that answered him. "We can go through each week on Sunday mornings so you know what to expect."

"Oh ok, thank you sir."

"I'm going to send you home with some more paperwork to look through about the port. And I recommend reading through what I sent yesterday,"

Was it that obvious I didn't read it?

"Surgery is scheduled for 10 am tomorrow morning and if it's ok with you, I think it would be beneficial to do the first Intrathecal treatment since you'll be under anesthesia."

"I agree," Snape said when it was clear Harry wasn't going to answer. He was supposed to help make these decisions anyway wasn't he?

Standing up, his hip still sore, he was just about to leave when Snape put his arm out to block the doorway.

"Forgetting something?"

"Erm..."

Harry felt the glamour being placed back on him.

"How do you manage to remember things like that?" It was a rhetorical question, but leave it to Snape to answer anyway.

"It's my job to remember the little details. Most of the time my life depends on those little details," Harry wasn't expecting Snape to answer, but he definitely wasn't expecting an honest answer. "Let's go. We need to stop by the pharmacy."

Oh yeah...his medication he was starting today, before the surgery tomorrow, and then something that was happening 4 times a week. He was exhausted and it was barely lunchtime.

~~~~SS~~~~

It had been a long couple of days for Severus. As Harry's official medical proxy, he was hoping it would help gain some of the trust back between them. There was a lot of ground to make up and he knew it was going to be anything but easy.

Leaving the hospital, he looked at the address on the list of prescriptions to go to the pharmacy. Taking Harry's arm, noticing that he had a small tremble in it, he disapparated them to an alleyway near the pharmacy.

"It's here," he pointed to the door on their left walking out of the alley. Harry nodded and walked in behind Severus, a little bell ringing after each one entered.

They walked slowly to the back of the pharmacy, to the small window where a young woman was waiting.

"Picking up for Harry Evans," Snape said casually knowing Harry wasn't used to his pseudonym.

He looked over his shoulder and Harry was sitting exhausted on the chair next to the drop off window. Waiting for the pharmacist to locate the order, he thought back to how this Harry had almost no reservations choosing the Chemotherapy instead of the Potions treatment. While it seemed too simple, he was fully aware - after reading through all the pamphlets last night - that this process was not going to be easy on either of them.

Ultimately, he wasn't sure how realistic it was to keep him at his relatives' house through this, which caused him to think back to his conversation with Albus after leaving the Dursley's last night:

Severus arrived back at Albus's office after they floo'ed from Mrs. Figg's house.

"Lemon drop?" Albus asked before Severus could even sit down.

"Absolutely not."

"As you wish. Shall we discuss the summons first," Albus was referring to his earlier summons to the Dark Lord. Both men were now sitting in the chairs side by side.

Jumping right in Severus said, "He's asking a lot of questions about Harry's summer location and specifically when he's typically moved. I was able to piece together that he does, indeed, have the location to his relatives home.

"He's planning something and I can't tell if he wants Harry to stay put or be moved. I also haven't figured out who is leading it all, but it's not me and that alone causes some concern. With the Order directly overseeing his living arrangements, I would expect to be more involved than I am, especially if that is where the Dark Lord is intending to take him," Severus was nervous and Albus was really the only person he would ever admit that to.

"Do you think your position is in jeopardy?" It was a realistic concern he would have to start to consider. Even with the memories from this world, it was a lot to sort through and he hadn't been as prepared for the summons as he should have been.

"I don't think so yet, but I'll keep a closer listen in as I can. In the meantime, I think we need to be prepared to move Harry with short notice, which is not something that will be easy once his treatments start."

"What a great transition," Albus looked pleased, "do you have any inclination of which treatments young Harry will ultimately want to go with?"

"No idea. If I were a betting man, I'd say the muggle chemotherapy, based off the rant he made about doing what's 'required of him'. I have a feeling in the end, your less than subtle manipulations will work against you."

The Headmaster looked perplexed, which isn't something that happened often. "That's assuming you think I want the Potions, but alas my boy, even I know we are between two impossible options. I'll have to trust Harry's opinion whichever way he wants to go." Severus didn't believe that for one second.

They both sat in silence for the next several minutes until Albus finally said, "I'll start working on alternate living arrangements for the summer should we need them.

"In the meantime, keep Harry home as much as possible, try to do most of the treatments there if you can. I'll contact Healer Smithe if you need me to. I can also see when Poppy plans to return and send her to help if need be."

Severus nodded in agreement and after another pause Albus added, "Any idea on how last minute the new arrangements need to be?"

"I'll make sure to get you as much time as I can, but plan on no notice at all."

"Mr. Evans?" Severus heard his undercover name called to the pharmacy window. "You're all set, is there anything else you'd like to add to your purchase today?"

He looked over at Harry who had fallen asleep in the chair. Not wanting to leave him for too long, he asked, "Can you show me where to find the following?" and handed over the paper he'd received from Alton.

"Of course," the young lady, Melissa according to her name tag, said stepping out. She peeked around and saw Harry sleeping too. "Let's get this quickly so you can get him back home." She looked kindly at Severus.

Less than 5 minutes later, they were back at the pharmacy counter; Harry was still sleeping in the same uncomfortable position. As he paid for the lot of medications Melissa said, "Your son's going to be just fine. I have a sense about these things."

Severus was taken aback and for a second couldn't think about what to say. There was no way she could understand the depth of her statement and what it meant to him. Maybe it would be ok and maybe someday Harry could feel like his son again.

"Thank you."

He walked over to wake Harry so they could head back to his aunt's house and eat lunch. It was becoming obvious Harry was starting to lose a significant amount of weight. After reading through the chemotherapy side effects, Harry would need to keep all the weight he could to begin with. The young wizard's face was pale and drawn, and no matter how much he slept the dark circles under his eyes looked like 2 bruises. Just taking a quick look at the too-small boy, anyone could guess he was ill.

"Mmmhmm." Harry mumbled. His eyes squinting against the harsh light of the pharmacy as he opened them. "Oh, sorry sir, I didn't know I fell asleep."

"It's of no consequence. Let's get you back and have some lunch," Severus held out his hand to help stabilize Harry as he stood.

"Best of luck to you both," Melissa called out as they walked slowly out the door.

~~~~HP~~~~

Once again, Harry woke up feeling like his head was full of cotton. Would there ever be a time when he wouldn't feel like this?

Finally feeling a little more clear headed as they approached their apparation point, Harry noticed, for the first time, the large bag Snape was carrying.

"What's all that?"

Snape gave him a looked that clearly said 'are you really that stupid' so he clarified his question, "I know it's my medication, but why are there so many?"

"Ah," Snape said, understanding, "I've been told that it's not advisable to use potions during chemotherapy because your magic will be taxed enough and we should not overload it.

"The rest of this is pain relievers, both prescription and over the counter, an antiemetic - like a muggle stomach calming draft-, an antibiotic, am antiviral, vitamins, and a prescription numbing salve for the port. Plus an extra soft toothbrush." Snape counted off making sure he wasn't forgetting something.

All of that sounded horrible. Except for maybe the vitamins, he probably should have been taking those every summer anyway for how little he usually ate. He could work on forgetting the stomach calming medicine and the numbing salve for now, not wanting to even think about why he would need them. Plus at least 2 kinds of pain relievers. He committed to reading up on the chemotherapy tonight so he could at least have an idea of what to expect.

That night was Snape's first night at Privet Drive and Harry was nervous about how it would go. Getting back to aunt and uncle's house was overall easy and unfortunately Snape didn't let him get away without lunch. He wasn't really hungry, but wanting to avoid the death-stare he was sure to receive from stating such fact, made him at least eat half of the chicken salad sandwich Snape had made for him. Snape also made sure he took his first set of medications which in his mind officially started his cancer treatment.

Picking up the chore list Uncle Vernon had left for him on the table, he noticed it was three times as long as usual. At least half of them he could easily knock out before suppertime, which calmed some of the nerves inside him. Snape had gone back out to grab some things and he could use the distraction for the afternoon.

He'd made it through cleaning the kitchen (counters, sink, refrigerator, and floor), sitting room, and was moving onto vacuuming the sitting room when he felt a deep sharp pain in his right leg. It had been duly aching on and off for the last week or so, but now it was almost unbearable. He fell to the floor clutching his thigh hoping that if he got off his legs for a minute, it would pass.

Unfortunately, this was the position Dudley found him several minutes later as he was trying not to let any tears fall.

"What's wrong with you?" he asked when it was clear that Harry was laying on the floor in pain.

"None... of your... business," Harry managed to say through clenched teeth feeling like his leg was being stabbed with a hundred needles.

He could see an internal struggle in Dudley's mind, which surprised Harry; he was sure Dudley didn't have enough brain power to think of another living being besides himself. Just when Harry thought his cousin was actually going to help, he turned around and continued walking to the kitchen. It shouldn't have surprised him, but it did. It hurt almost as much as his leg did that he could just walk away.

He finally managed to get himself up onto the sofa with his leg propped up on the armrest. Closing his eyes, he tried to breathe through the pain, feeling a cold sweat breakout on his forehead. Pressing down on his eyes with the palm of his hands, he suddenly felt something cold rub across his forehead.

"What the-" he started to yell and jumped when he opened his eyes and saw Dudley with a wet tea towel hovering over his forehead.

Harry met Dudley's eyes, confused by the gesture. As he was about to say something about this strange action, the door opened and Snape came in the doorway.

Dudley jumped up and said, "Pro-fffe-ssor, there's something wrong with Harry."

Snape - back in his normal Snape form but still in the light green shirt instead of white or black - walked briskly into the sitting room.

"What's going on?"

Harry went to speak when another pain ran through his thigh. He clenched his teeth in pain.

Sounding scared, Dudley said, "I don't know. I came in and he was on the floor."

"Just... my leg..." Harry managed to say, "... sir," he added.

Snape kneeled in front of the sofa to examine Harry's leg. Turning to Dudley, he commanded, "There's a small bottle of pain reliever in the bag in the upstairs lavatory. Fetch it for me."

Dudley did what Harry could only assume was his best to run out of the room. He could hear the loud thundering of his steps up the stairs.

Waiting for Dudley to return, the professor looked down at his student, "Did you injure it in any way?"

"No," Harry took a deep breath, " it's been aching... But now it's sharp."

Dudley finally came back with 2 small bottles and held them out to the Potions Professor. Picking the Paracetamol and depositing 2 tablets in his hand, he then pulled his wand and summoned a glass from the kitchen. He caught the glass and tapped his wand on lip, filling it with water. He then helped Harry sit up against the armrest of the sofa and handed him the 2 tablets.

"Take these," he said quietly, "they'll help." He was about to hand Harry the glass, but saw his shaking hands and decided to bring it to his lips instead. Harry was about to protest, but let the professor help him sip the water to take the tablets.

Helping to lay him back down on the sofa, Snape picked up the wet tea towel Dudley had brought and placed it over Harry's forehead.

"It will get better soon. Alton said this was very common with Leukemia, it's the cancer cells building up in your bone marrow," Snape explained less clinically than Harry expected. "Until those levels start going down, we'll manage the pain with the muggle pain medication."

If Harry's eyes had been open, he would see two people that he was positive had hated him, looking down at him with concerned faces. As the medicine started to work and the pain was subsiding, Harry felt himself starting to fall asleep. He couldn't believe how tired he'd been since all of this started.

"Sir," he said, sleep heavy in his voice.

"Yes Harry?" the low baritone voice said back.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome Harry."

It's back to Harry... I like that.

"You call'd me Harry," he slurred his speech a bit as he was falling asleep.

Harry felt his stomach rumble as the smell of chicken wafted over to his nose. Cracking an eye open, it was almost dark outside which meant he slept another afternoon and Uncle Vernon was going to be angry. Groaning, he felt around for his glasses and then quickly abandoned that until he could at least open his eyes for more than half a second. Maybe it's best just to ignore the food, and sleep instead, everything felt better when he was sleeping.

He drifted in and out of a light sleep until he heard Snape's voice quietly say, "You need to eat."

Harry's eyes shot open. He stared at his ceiling willing himself to be anywhere else besides his bedroom. If he was in his bedroom then Snape was in his bedroom and if Snape was in his bedroom, it was only a matter of time until the Slytherins knew about it. He was never going to live this down, Harry bloody Potter lived in a room no better than a prison cell. Possibly more important, how did he get to his room? Last he remembered, he was laying on the sofa in the sitting room.

"Why are you in my bedroom? And how did I get here?" Harry leaned over to grab his glasses from the rickety desk besides his bed. Putting them on, he saw the always-stoic face of Snape, black hair curtaining his pale face. He could never tell what the man was thinking, but it couldn't be good. Sitting on his desk was a plate of chicken, applesauce, and carrots plus a glass of milk.

"You have surgery in the morning," the professor reminded him while ignoring both of Harry's questions. "You can't have anything to eat or drink after midnight, so you need to eat now." He held the plate out for Harry

Leaning up on his elbows, he grabbed the plate placing it on the bed in front of him. "You didn't answer my questions."

"Clearly, you're in your room because I brought you up here from the sofa downstairs, and I'm here to make sure you eat."

Yeah, he could have guessed both of those now that his head was clearing out. None of the Dursley's would have brought him upstairs. At the time they seemed like appropriate questions.

Snape's cold onyx eyes were looking at him as he ate, "Why are there locks on your door?" Harry froze. He held up his hand before Harry could answer. "Let me rephrase that, why are there locks on the outside of your door?"

"Erm... My uncle doesn't like when I wonder at night?" That didn't sound convincing even to Harry's ears.

"Try again." Snape's eyes narrowed.

"You obviously already know, so why are you asking!" Taking another bite of chicken, he couldn't believe he was eating his 3rd meal for the day.

"I've had a talk with your aunt and uncle. For all intents and purposes, you're in my care now, they have no say so over what it is you do." That didn't sound much better, but Harry knew not to say so. "Have you read through any of the materials yet?"

"Not quite... I decided to do my chores first and then, well, you saw what happened." He paused, "Thank you, by the way."

"You already thanked me," Snape said quickly, "do you have any questions about what's going to happen tomorrow?"

Am I supposed to have questions?

"What exactly is going to happen?" He took a sip of milk which felt good on his dry throat.

"Did you hear anything that was said this afternoon?" Now Harry felt stupid for asking such a question.

"I do listen-"

"I wasn't being cross," Snape interrupted him. "I just want to know how much I need to go back and explain." Oh, now he felt stupid again.

"I'm getting a port inserted here," he pointed above his right collar bone, "and it's going to be under my skin and it's to help get chemo."

"Precisely. They'll make an incision-"

"Wait a minute, I don't need that much detail," it was Harry's turn to interrupt. He put his half eaten dinner plate back on his desk. "Specifically, what does being under general anesthesia mean?"

"It means you'll get a medicine that will put you to sleep. They'll insert the port while you're sleeping and when you wake up, you'll come home." Snape made it sound so easy. If it was that easy, why did he have to be put to sleep for it? "In the long run, this is the best option."

"And they're doing chemo then too? I thought they needed the port for that?" Here is where he started to get confused. Harry rubbed his right temple as he felt a headache coming on.

"The first intrathecal chemo, yes. That's the preventative one that goes directly into your spinal cord," Why couldn't Snape explain potions class like this? "It's done in the same manner as the spinal tap they did today, but instead of taking fluid out they'll put it in."

Was that only today?!

"At least I'll sleep through that one."

"Don't worry, you'll get plenty more if you feel like you're missing out." Snape didn't seem as amused as Harry would have expected. "We'll go through the schedule, in as much or little detail as you'd like, on Sunday before Alton gets here."

"Sir, what's going to happen with my relatives during all this? I doubt they want me staying here," this wasn't exactly the conversation he wanted to have but the question was sitting like a brick in his mind.

"Right now the headmaster and I agree that this home is the safest place for you. He's working to make other arrangements, but ultimately you need the blood ward protection at least a little while longer."

That didn't exactly answer the question, in fact it sounded more like a distraction from the actual question he'd asked. Too tired to push it, he sat up all the way to start getting up from bed.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"If you must know, to the loo sir," Harry rolled his eyes annoyed, "Or do I need permission to brush my teeth and take a piss?"

Harry could see Snape literally hold his tongue back likely from some snide remark. Not caring, Harry got up and walked right past his professor and out the door into the loo taking notice of his school trunk standing in the corner of the small room as he left.

He took a minute to take in his appearance in the mirror. The exhaustion across his face was the most obvious sign something was not right in his body. He touched the dark purple circles under his eyes as if he'd expected them to disappear with his touch. He then noticed how thin his face was, his cheeks were sunken in more prominently than in the past.

After deciding on a quick shower and then brushing his teeth, he walked back to his room hoping Snape had gone to bed. Of course, he wasn't that lucky. No, instead his professor was examining around the room As a spy, he would have expected the man to be a little more subtle with his snooping.

"What do you think you're doing?" He snapped at the professor in front of him.

"Determining what still needs to be done to your room," he explained as if that meant anything to Harry.

Shaking his head slightly, annoyed he asked, "Can you leave?" That was about as nice as he could be right now.

"As you wish. We need to be at the hospital at 9:00 tomorrow morning. Don't forget, no food or drink."

That was too easy.

"Got it sir," was the last thing Harry said before rolling over in bed and falling asleep.

Harry sat in the hospital bed the next morning, still in his full going out of the house glamour, picking at the clear dressing from the tube Healer Smithe just placed in the top of his hand. According to Snape, who was sitting in the chair next to his bed signing what appeared to be a textbook worth of paperwork, this was an IV and would be used to administer the medication to knock him out. Snape may have said "put you to sleep" to make it sound a bit nicer, but either way the IV hurt which just confirmed to himself why the port was a good idea in the first place. Right now there was something in it to hydrate him.

He was trying his hardest not to think about what was about to happen. He was going to be unconscious, cut open, and a small device placed into his chest - specifically attached into a vein towards his heart - all while having zero control of what was happening around him. This was not something he could spend too much energy thinking about.

So naturally, while trying to avoid thinking about the immediate future, he instead was thinking of the immediate past, which wasn't much better. Yes, Snape had mentioned last night that he'd "spoken with his aunt and uncle" and they basically couldn't tell him what to do anymore, but that didn't stop them from making his co-existence with them extremely uncomfortable. Take this morning for example, when conveniently his door had been "accidentally" locked last night which meant he had to wait until an angry Snape had come to supposedly "wake him up before they were late" only to find him trapped in the room. Aunt Petunia's face was bright red for the entire angry-lecture she received from Snape. Harry knew it wouldn't matter in the end; for one it was always Uncle Vernon that locked his door at night, and for two if it's not the locked door today it will be something else tomorrow.

Then of course, there was what Harry referred to as the immediate-immediate past. When he was told shortly after arriving at the hospital that a side effect of the chemo can leave him unable to have children in the future. So, sitting next to his professor, he had to decide if there was even a chance he wanted to have children someday - not something normal almost 16 year old boys think about - and if so, then he needed to go and "deposit"... It was an event he could have done without experiencing, but at least the potential future baby Potters are now secure.

Having run out of things to think about, he started picking at the clear dressing on the top of his hand and walking through different spells he knew and what they did.

"If you pick that off, they're going to have to remove it and do it again," came Snape's monotone voice from the chair beside his bed, not even looking up from the papers he was reading and subsequently signing.

He dropped his hand dramatically from picking the dressing, "That's a lot of stuff you have to go through."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say since Snape just looked up without lifting his head and glared, that is definitely a glare this time, at Harry.

"Yes, it would seem they want to have confirmation that at least one person knows what's going to happen with you."

That was either the third or fourth time Snape had brought up the fact that Harry hadn't read through the pamphlets about his cancer, treatment, or port.

Harry just rolled his eyes, "I did read through it this morning, while I was waiting to be let out of my room."

Also not the right thing to say by the angry look in Snape's glamoured blue eyes. Harry had seen that look plenty of times in class, but it just wasn't the same on his Mr. Evan's face and he almost laughed. Both of them would be happy to no longer need to assume their new identities every single day.

There was a soft knock on the door drawing Harry's attention away from Snape's mountain of paperwork.

"Good morning, Harry. How are you doing today?" Healer Smithe asked in his optimistic voice. He was wearing a set of green scrubs, which Harry knew from catching one of Aunt Petunia's hospital shows, and a white coat over them. This was the first time he looked like a full muggle doctor instead of a magical healer.

"A little nervous if I'm being honest," Harry gave a nervous chuckle.

"Not to worry, everything will be very quick and easy today. You'll be back home before you know it. Professor Snape mentioned you had some leg pain yesterday. Can you tell me more about that?" He was looking through Harry's chart and presumably getting ready to write down what Harry was going to tell him.

"Erm, not much to tell sir," Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "My leg has had this dull achy feel for a while now. Not all the time, but enough to notice. And yesterday when I was doing my chores, it was a sharp pain. Professor Snape got some of the pain relievers and it was back to the dull ache this morning."

"I'm glad the medicine helped. Don't feel like you need to wait out in pain, if you need something to help, let Severus know, that's what the medication is there for- to help," the healer emphasized. "Like the nosebleeds, fatigue, and bruising we discussed at your first appointment, bone pain is very common with ALL; it's the build up of the bad cells crowding in the marrow putting pressure on the bone from the inside."

"Professor Snape mentioned that yesterday," Harry was playing with a string on the blanket overtop his legs. This was getting too real.

Standing up, Snape handed the book of papers over to the healer, "Everything looks in order and signed. He's ready to go." Something about Snape signing off on his procedure made Harry's stomach drop. It was a good thing he wasn't allowed to eat otherwise he was sure it would have come up by now.

"Ok, Harry. A quick overview of what you can expect," Healer Smithe was going into his healer-lecture mode, "we're going to do the port first. It will go here," he touched just below Harry's right collar bone, "and will be about the size of a quarter. The area will be tender, or sore, but it shouldn't hurt. You will be able to feel and see it so please brace yourself for that; it can be a shock for some people when they wake up.

"After the port is in, we're going to go ahead and do the first Intrathecal chemotherapy. It's a combination therapy consisting of three medications that will be injected directly into the spinal cord. That process could be up to 30 minutes. Side effects you might experience are headache, nausea with or without vomiting, fever, and less likely some sensitivity to light." He looked up at Harry with a small promising smile. "Any questions?"

"No, I don't think so." Harry tried to ignore the unevenness of his voice and small shaking in his arms. Grabbing some of his Gryffindor bravery, he said, "Let's do this."

"Great attitude. Let me go call in the anesthesiologist, who is the doctor that will be overseeing the medicine to put you to sleep," for some reason Harry didn't expect another doctor to be involved, so he looked over at Snape for reassurance.

"There's going to be several new, muggle doctors in there which is why we're still wearing the glamours," he said slowly keeping eye contact with Harry's worried eyes. "All of them have been checked and vetted by both myself and the Headmaster. You have no reason to worry about your safety."

"Oh good."

Another knock on the door and Healer Smithe returned with another man dressed in the same green scrubs and white coat. He was an older gentleman with a fit build, short white hair, and brown eyes less kind-looking than Healer Smithe's.

"Hello Mr. Evans, my name is Dr. Clavin. You're getting a port for chemotherapy inserted correct?" The new Dr said quickly looking over his file.

"Yes, sir."

"Can you confirm your birthday for me?" He asked flipping pages in the chart barely looking at Harry.

"31st July, 1980."

With that, Dr. Clavin looked up at Harry for the first time. He furrowed his eyebrows while examining him. Shaking his head he commented, "Barely 16; I don't know how you do it Smithe."

Harry's eyes widened at the insensitive comment. He looked over at Snape as if to say this guy's in charge of my care?

Dr. Clavin hooked up a bag on the metal stand next to Harry's bed and started messing with the I.V. tubing. Harry was relieved to see Snape paying very close attention to what was being done.

Harry felt the back of the hospital bed lower and before he knew it, he was staring up at Healer Smithe and Dr. Clavin, while Snape stood up next to his bed.

"Ok, we're going to start the anesthesia now Harry," Healer Smithe explained noticing Harry was shaking a bit. "I need you to count backwards from 100."

"Oh, sure," Harry said, feeling nervous. "100... 99... 98... 97... 96... 95... " the numbers seemed harder to remember in the right order, "ninety-fffourr... Ninet..."

Harry couldn't say the next number as his eyes started to slowly blink close. The last thing he remembered was how much less nervous he felt as the blackness crept up and took over.

"...mmmh..."

"...rry..."

"...Harry?"

"...ake up..."

Harry could hear bits and pieces around him as he started waking up. He was laying flat on his back and as his eyes tried to open, he could tell the lights above him had been dimmed. Trying again to open his eyes, he was surprised by how quickly the surgery had gone, maybe they ran into a problem and couldn't finish?

"Harry?" He heard a familiar, kind voice.

"Harry, can you hear me?" The kind voice asked again, much closer this time. "You can open your eyes."

This time he forced his eyes to open and could only see a blurry blob in front of him. He felt around for his glasses, but his hands didn't go much further than his sides. He could feel the pull of the IV in the top of his hand every time he moved his right arm looking for his glasses.

"Here you go Harry," the kind voice said again this time it slipped his glasses onto his face for him.

Opening his eyes once his glasses were in place, the face in front of him was one of the last faces he expected to see.

"Remus?" Harry asked. He had to be dreaming or something. Standing over his looking down was Remus Lupin. He was wearing a worn brown jumper which seemed out of place in the middle of summer. His eyes were filled with concern as he gave Harry a weak smile.

"Welcome back Harry," Remus said quietly as if Harry might still have been sleeping.

Harry tried to sit up, but his former professor put a hand on his shoulder and gently held him back down.

"Stay laying Harry, the Healer said you need to stay that way for another 10 minutes so the medicine can distribute properly," he pulled the chair up to Harry's bedside and sat back down, his hand still on Harry's shoulder comfortingly.

"So everything went ok? I thought because it was so fast, something was wrong."

Remus gave the young wizard a small smile, "It's the sleeping medicine they gave you. It makes it seem like no time has passed. It's been a couple hours. And yes, everything went just fine."

Harry yawned and turned his head to the side. "What are you doing here? I mean, I didn't mean it like-"

Laughing, Remus interrupted him, "Don't worry about it Harry. Severus asked me to come; he thought you'd like to see a friendlier face when you came out of surgery. I hope that's ok."

"Absolutely," Harry exclaimed with as much enthusiasm as he could manage, which admittingly wasn't much. "Um...did he explain to you about... You know, what's going on?"

He held onto Harry's left hand and squeezed it. "He did, I hope you don't mind. I'm glad he told me though, so I could be here."

"Thank you," he didn't care what his healer said, he still felt embarrassed about it all.

"How are you feeling?"

Harry took a deep breath, "Really tired; most of the day I'm really tired."

"We'll get you better really soon. Just hang in there," Harry was pretty sure that Remus had no idea what the process was going to be like, but he didn't want to say anything. He just smiled at the man who was one of his father's best friends.

He heard the door open and turned his head to look. Walking in was Healer Smithe and Snape.

"Good afternoon young man," the healer greeted excitedly. "How are you feeling?"

"Still a bit groggy and a bit sore, like I slept in a wrong position or something." His lower back and chest were definitely feeling like something had happened. He didn't want to think of the details right now. If he could just avoid thinking about it, maybe it wouldn't be real.

"That's to be expected. You may feel more once you wake up a bit. We also gave you some pain reliever so once that wears off, don't feel bad asking for some more," Healer Smithe explained.

"When can I leave?"

The healer lifted the top of his bed so he was now, at least, in a sitting position. "You'll be able to head home in about an hour. We want to make sure you don't have any negative reactions to the chemo you got, and then you can go."

"Cool," was all Harry could think to say.

He looked past Remus and saw Snape sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. He was reading a potions journal, seemingly in his own world, but Harry knew he was paying close attention. He thought back on Remus's statement that Snape asked him to come. Not for the first time since seeing the professor in the hospital wing before term ended, he thought something strange was going on with the man he'd mutually hated for almost 6 years. Closing his eyes, he decided to table the thoughts about the potions professor; they would see plenty of each other in the coming weeks and he could find time to question him about the strange behavior.

Harry hadn't realized he had fallen back asleep until she heard Remus's soft voice say, "Harry, it's time to go."

Cracking his eyes open a little, the lights still dimmed in the room, he saw Remus, Snape, and Healer Smithe surrounding his bed. Feeling like an animal at the zoo, his eyes went wide.

"Sorry sir," he said sheepishly. He could feel a headache coming on and he rubbed his temple with his right hand. The IV had been removed while he was sleeping and he'd fallen asleep with his glasses still on his face, which always hurt when he woke up.

Swinging his feet off the bed, he definitely felt worse than before he took the small cat nap. Remus grabbed his arm to help steady him as he stood up. Harry instinctively touched his right chest where he felt a sharp pain when he moved; that's when he felt it - a small hard circle, about the size of a quarter as Healer Smithe said it would be - underneath a white, soft piece of cotton. It didn't hurt necessarily, but the area around it was sore and in general his body recognized something was there that should not have been there. He looked up and if possible, the 3 men were looking at him more intently than before, waiting to see how the young wizard would react.

"You will get used to it," Healer Smithe ventured, being the first to draw attention to the port. "It will feel strange at first, but your body will adjust and you won't notice it after a while."

Harry only nodded, not trusting his voice not to betray his scared emotion about the foreign object in his body that would be distributing a poison directly into his veins. He shuttered, which caused his head to ache some more.

Snape handed Harry a cup filled with water, "It's very important to stay hydrated. You were getting fluids in your IV before."

He took a small sip, feeling good on his throat he hadn't known was dry. The water hit his stomach hard, after not eating since last night, plus his headache, his stomach was roiling.

"Thank you sir. Can we go now?" Snape gave him a questionable look, but shook his head. The curtains around his bed were then closed so he could get dressed to leave.

"If it's ok Severus," Harry heard Remus from the other side of the curtain, "I'd like to help get Harry settled."

Harry strained to hear Snape's response as he put on his shirt without looking down at the port. He wanted to see it the first time by himself; it wasn't like he could forget about it, every time he lifted his arm the skin was pulled tight over the device.

"Of course," he heard Snape finally say without the expected grumble.

When Harry finally made it back to his aunt's house, he was pretty sure apparating almost killed him. Now with an awful headache, his stomach flip-flopping all over his insides, and his body sore, he was happy that he'd not have to do that for every treatment.

Since it was Saturday, he had the pleasure of all his relatives home when he walked into the door. As expected, they were in the sitting room watching the telly.

"Who is that you're bringing in now boy?" Uncle Vernon bellowed seeing Remus walk into the house with Harry.

"Remus," Harry introduced quickly, "that's Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley."

Snape came in behind, closing the door and removing his and Harry's glamours. "Take him into the kitchen and see if you can find something he'll eat," Snape ordered walking up the stairs to do who-knew-what.

Harry deposited himself into a chair at the table avoiding his relatives' beady stares at him. Let them watch. Harry laid his head onto the table willing his headache, at this point maybe a migraine, to go away. He could hear the clanking of pots and pans as Remus was cooking something for Harry to eat and before he knew it, there was a small plate of scrambled eggs and a cup of apple juice sitting in front of him.

"Thank you Remus, but I'm really not hungry." He spoke into the table.

"You need to eat something Harry. Even if it's just a small bite here or there." A sound of concern could be heard in Remus's voice.

"I appreciate it Remus, I really do," Harry pleaded, "but if I eat now, I'm pretty sure it will come right back up."

"You need to try," Remus rubbed his back which angered Harry for some reason.

"Easy for you to say," he mumbled back, finally lifting his head.

Dudley waddled into the kitchen, knocking the right side of Harry's chair as he passed, causing the port site to sting sharply. Harry hissed at the sudden pain.

"Well," Dudley opportunistically said grabbing for the plate, "if he's not going to eat-"

"Drop it," Snape warned grabbing the plate from Dudley's swollen fingers and placing it back in front of Harry, along with a small cup of pills "Eat, then take these."

"What are these?" He asked looking into the cup at the six pills sitting in it.

"Vitamin, pain reliever- there are two of those, antibiotic, antiviral, and antiemetic." Appearing satisfied that Harry would indeed take the medications, he went back upstairs. Probably to avoid Remus as much as possible.

Struggling to eat the eggs partially due to his headache/nausea, partially due to Remus watching him, he took each of the medications in the cup and was down right exhausted but so sick of sleeping all the time. He wondered what he was going to do most of the summer, probably work on summer assignments.

"Remus," Harry started very quietly broaching the topic he'd been avoiding, "I wanted to say... I mean I just... I'm sorry. About Sirius."

Remus leaned over placing both hands on Harry's shoulders, "Listen to me carefully Harry," he said, grief filling his voice, "I don't blame you, at all, for what happened."

Harry expected this, Remus was too nice to say otherwise.

"If only I didn't-"

"Harry, listen," he spoke ,"Sirius knew what he was getting himself into the moment he left headquarters, understand? The only people responsible for his death is you-know-who and Bellatrix."

"But Remus-"

"No!" Remus finally yelled. "Get that notion out of your mind. He would not want you thinking like that, he wouldn't blame you Harry. Forgive yourself, please."

Uncle Vernon stood up and as quickly as a man the size of a walrus could, approached the table. "Out!" He yelled to Remus.

"Excuse me Mr. Dursley?" Remus was being far too nice for what Uncle Vernon deserved.

"I said you're out," he pointed to Remus, "I've had enough of your kind in my house!"

Harry almost laughed imagining what his face would look like if he knew the former DADA professor was a werewolf in addition to a wizard. Remus wasn't as amused and Harry reminded himself that the man wasn't used to the way his relatives thought about magic.

"It's ok Remus," Harry said comfortingly. "You should go."

"Ok Harry. I'm headed out on...," He eyed Vernon and Petunia, "headed somewhere for Dumbledore, but I'll stay in touch when I can. You take care of yourself, you hear. Try to listen to Severus, ultimately he means well."

Harry was overly confused about the last sentence and thinking about it made his headache worse. He stood up and gave Remus a hug

"Thank you for being here today. It meant a lot."

"Anytime Harry," he held his hand on the back of Harry's head. Pulling away he added, "I'll be back as soon as I can. Stay safe."

Standing with his relatives surrounding him, knowing that if they messed with him the very agitated potentially-dark wizard upstairs would hex them into next week, he felt very much alone.

"I'll be in my room," he said to no one in particular and he walked out to the stairs.

Halfway up the stairs he started to feel very flush; his head was pounding with the beat of his heart, and his stomach felt heavy with the small lunch he'd eaten. He ran up the rest of the stairs into the, luckily unoccupied, lavatory and sicked up his lunch into the loo until only bile was left and then dry heaves. It took another 2 sets of dry heaves until his stomach felt calm enough to stop leaning over the bowl.

Sitting against the cold bathtub, next to the loo just in case, he closed his eyes to focus on his breathing. A cold glass was pressed into his hand causing him to open his eyes. Kneeling in front of him was Snape, also holding out a towel which Harry took and wiped his mouth before sipping from the glass of water.

Groaning, he went to stand up, but his legs were still shaking. Snape lightly grabbed a hold of Harry's arm to steady him and helped him to the sink. Harry rinsed out his mouth and brushed his teeth, noticing the new extra soft toothbrush. Turning around, Snape handed him a set of red pyjamas he didn't recognize.

"Sir?" Harry questioned taking them.

"I may have noticed that you don't have sufficient comfortable clothes for your treatments, so I picked some up while I was out yesterday." In reality, the professor knew Harry's relatives never bought him any clothes of his own and what he did have was oversized and worn. He needed something he could feel comfortable in for the upcoming weeks. "Plus you needed some that provide access to your port," he pointed to Harry's chest.

Harry stared at Snape amazed; this pretty much confirmed there was something going on with the man in front of him. He was about to ask him about it, but his stomach lurched and he found himself heaving into the loo again.

Once that round passed, he sat back on his feet, crouched on the bathroom floor, head hanging. Snape sat on the edge of the bathtub holding a wet towel on the back of Harry's neck.

"Let's get you dressed and in bed. I'm guessing you can use some rest."

Harry nodded his head the best he could.

"Do you need any help?"

The Boy-Who-Lived shook his head and whispered, "No, I'll be out in a minute."

Snape opened the door and Dudley was waiting outside of it, face pale looking at his cousin on the floor.

"I'll just... use a different loo," Dudley managed to say.

Snape narrowed his eyes and said to Dudley, "Good idea."

Harry closed the door behind Snape barely registering that Dudley had been outside. He fingered the soft material of the pyjamas. It was hard to believe that Severus Snape, the greasy dungeon bat, had gotten him pyjamas just because he wanted to be comfortable. How was Snape so familiar with all of this? Did he know someone with cancer? He mentioned he grew up in the muggle world. The set of questions to ask him was growing by the minute.

To change into the pyjamas, Harry would have to finally see the port. Taking off his jeans, he pulled on the soft flannel bottoms first, surprised at how well they fit for Snape picking them out without Harry being there. They felt warm on his chilled skin and he almost melted into them, feeling like he was home.

Closing his eyes, he turned to face away from the mirror over the sink. It took some maneuvering to get his arms through his shirt and over his head with the sharp pinching of the port on his right chest. Looking down, he felt around the soft cotton covering the incision site. Pulling up the dressing around the gauze, he then turned around to looking at himself in the mirror before putting his pyjama shirt on. There it was; a small circle just barely pushing against his skin as if it were trying to escape. He wiped his cheek feeling the wet from tears he didn't know had fallen. Taking another deep breath, fighting back another round of nausea, he pulled on the button down pyjama top made of red flannel to match the bottoms.

~~~~SS~~~~

Standing outside the bathroom, waiting for Harry to change, Severus pretended not to hear the small sniffling coming from behind the door. He was thinking about ways he could help keep Harry's mind off of what was happening. In addition to several sets of pyjamas, while he was out yesterday he'd also picked up a couple books, muggle playing cards, a chess set, and some new sheets and blankets. During Harry's worst moments in the other reality, his favorite blanket made a difference to his spirit, so he took a risk that this Harry would appreciate the same thing.

When the door finally opened, Harry was wearing the new pyjamas and his eyes simmered giving away the tears that used to be there. He slowly walked out and towards his bedroom, clothes in hand.

"Where's Lupin?" Severus asked now realizing that the werewolf didn't follow upstairs.

"My uncle told him to leave," Harry mumbled. "Probably for the best, I'm not feeling very well."

Severus gave a non-committal humph; not really wanting Lupin around right now but not liking that they're stuck with the uncle. How was Harry supposed to stay positive when he was surrounded by hatred, both real and perceived.

Harry entered his room and stopped in his tracks, dropping his clothes in the process, Severus coming up behind him.

"Everything ok Mr. Potter?"

"My room sir?" Harry's eyes were wide with confusion.

Taking both of Harry's shoulders, he led the Gryffindor into his bedroom. While Harry and Lupin had been downstairs, Severus rearranged and set up his room to be more comfortable for his upcoming chemotherapy. Not only was the room completely cleaned and sanitized, the bed was moved to have a better view out the window, the worn threadbare sheets on the bed had been replaced with a new, soft, light blue set with a green comfortable bedspread not unlike his old room Severus was used to.

The rickety desk had been repaired and enlarged; on it was a stack of novels, a couple school textbooks, and various activities like the chess set and playing cards, along the top of the desk was the picture of his parents and his photo album, both of which Severus found in Harry's trunk. The desk chair was replaced with a plush, comfortable armchair where Harry would be able to sit when he needed somewhere else to have chemo. Draped across the back of the armchair was a midnight blue robe and a pair of matching slippers at the foot of bed.

Harry looked back at Severus as if it were the first time he had seen the black-haired professor.

"I was going to swap rooms with you since the guest room is quite a bit larger," Severus started, "but it is also both closer to your aunt and uncle's room, and further from the lavatory, so I did what I could here."

Harry was speechless, which is not something that happened often between this particular professor and student.

"Thank you sir," Harry finally said sitting down on the now very comfortable bed.

Severus waved off the gratitude. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired, sore, but I feel like that's becoming normal now," Harry leaned against the back of his bed.

"It's to be expected," he sat down on the armchair next to the bed. "Your body is doing a lot of fighting physically, mentally, and magically. Let it rest when you can."

He picked up a journal off the desk, the same potions journal he had at the hospital that morning, waiting for Harry to hopefully fall asleep.

Instead he heard, "Sir?"

"Yes Mr. Potter?" He lifted his eyes; Harry was still propped up against his pillows, staring at the ceiling.

"You seem to know a lot about what's going on, you know... the cancer stuff," Harry was clearly nervous and slowly turned over to face Severus wincing from pain in the process. "How do you know so much?"

The Potion Master took a few seconds to think about how to answer, "For one, I read through all the material Alton sent over."

"So you mentioned at least half a dozen times already," Harry replied sarcastically.

Completely ignoring that comment, Severus continued, "Second, I previously mentioned that as part of my Potions Mastery, I had to study medi-wizardry and the fundamentals are very similar to muggle medicine. Potions Masters are essentially pharmacists for the wizarding world, so I can understand the processes that are explained."

"Oh," to Severus, Harry sounded let down by his answer.

Taking a guess at what the young boy was trying to ask he said, "I can walk you through any of it, if you have questions."

"It's not that... I mean, I definitely could use the help understanding it all. The pamphlets didn't make much sense," Harry looked away from Severus as he contemplated something in his mind. "It just seemed like... I thought maybe you knew someone who had cancer before. Maybe when you were growing up or something."

Severus let out a shaky breath. He was definitely not expecting that and wasn't sure how to respond. He reached over to the desk, picked up the cup of water and handed it to Harry. "You need to try and stay hydrated," he recognized it was a weak diversion, at best.

Harry took the cup and, sitting back against his bed, took a small sip. The silence between them was deafening.

"You're right," Severus finally spoke; so quietly he wasn't sure Harry could hear him until he saw a spark in those emerald green eyes, "I knew a young boy with cancer. It feels like it was a whole other world ago."

"Were you close to him?" There was genuine curiosity in Harry's voice to know.

"Very much so. He was like family to me," he admitted, voice thick with grief.

Severus could see the question sitting on the tip of Harry's tongue, anticipating it before the boy even spoke, "What happened to him?"

There it was.

"That's a story for another day perhaps," it was as neutral of an answer as he could give, but Harry knew. Of course he did, had it been a positive outcome, that would have been the answer instead.

Harry pulled his knees up to his chest. Snape saw the pleading and fear in the boy in front of him, but knew the topic was closed; that Harry wouldn't continue to ask. In a different time and place this child was his; here he was so different yet so much the same as the Harry he once knew.

He noticed Harry's body stiffen, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. Severus got up and moved out of the way as Harry lept out of bed and towards the loo. He found himself standing outside the lavatory door once again, trying to give as much privacy as possible to the occupant inside.

Finally hearing the retching subside, he carefully opened the door. Harry was brushing his teeth again when their eyes met in the mirror.

"I'll let Alton know the antiemetic is not working, I'm sure he can bring something stronger with him tomorrow."

Harry nodded slightly, spitting out the last remnants of toothpaste then rinsing his mouth. He walked by Severus and back into bed without a word spoken. He rolled onto his side and fell asleep into what would be anything but a restful sleep.

7th July, 1996

When Harry started to stir, the first thing he noticed was the feel of a soft blanket against his cheek. He brought it closer against his face and wondered why he hadn't been woken up by any of the other boys in the dorm. He could hear them rustling around the room talking softly and yet they hadn't tried to wake him. His throat was parched and sore and several places on his body, specifically his legs, were screaming from bone pain. Had there been a quidditch accident?

No, he was not in Gryffindor tower at all. Bits and pieces from the previous night came back to him; eating dinner with Snape and the Dursley's - which was probably the highlight of the night - watching Snape find any and every way possible to make Uncle Vernon angry or terrified. Of course, eating didn't seem to be very productive because the next several hours were spent expelling most of it into the loo. Then, the pain medication wore off while he was sleeping and he tried his hardest not to complain about it, but in the end it was more painful than he'd expected. He was finally able to fall asleep some time half-past three in the morning, mostly due to the prescription pain medication, with Snape still sitting in the armchair watching over him.

Moaning more than he would ever tell anyone, his eyes peeled open and saw two blurry figures talking near his door. He leaned over and grabbed his glasses from the desk and plopped them on his face, not caring that they desperately needed to be cleaned.

As he'd expected, the two men were Snape and Healer Smithe. A quick look around the room showed everything appearing in order except a metal stand was now standing between the armchair and the bed, and a large black bag was on the floor beside it.

"Ah! Good morning Harry," Healer Smithe cheerfully greeted when he noticed the young wizard was finally awake. "I heard you had a rough reaction to the I.T. chemo yesterday, so I wanted to let you get as much sleep as possible this morning before we start. I have a stronger antiemetic that I'll give you through your port before the chemo is started."

"Rough is a good way to put it sir," Harry groggily replied, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Do I have time for a quick shower? I feel kind of gross after last night."

"Yes, we have some time," Snape replied. "There's some more pyjamas in the wardrobe for you."

"Before you go," the healer added, "I'd like to check your port site. Then after the shower, be sure to put on some of the numbing cream."

Harry laid back against his pillows and unbuttoned the top 3 buttons of his shirt to reveal the site. He may not have been qualified to say, but it looked like it was healing well. Healer Smithe put on some gloves and felt around the port.

"Any pain directly relating to the port or area around it?" He asked.

"Not really anymore sir. It just feels," he thought about the best way to describe it, "...different."

"As I said yesterday, you'll get used to the feeling. Let me or Professor Snape know immediately if there's any sudden pain or burning."

Making eye contact with the healer, Harry nodded, "I will sir "

Harry then stood up, putting on the slippers and robe Snape had gotten for him, and opened the wardrobe doors revealing several sets of new pyjamas in a wide range of colors. Grabbing a light green set, he went to the bathroom to get ready.

He returned to his room only 30 minutes later wearing the green pyjamas, robe, and slippers. His room was empty and he briefly wondered where Snape and the healer had gone. He sat down on the plush armchair looking out at the dreary sky which threatened more rain.

A perfect day to be stuck inside.

In front of him on the desk sat a bowl of porridge with sliced bananas and strawberries mixed in, a glass of water, and a small cup of his morning medication. He stared at his breakfast like it was going to jump up and attack him. The irony wasn't lost on him; when he wished for regular meals during the summers, this was not the circumstances he had expected. Wanting to avoid another lecture from Snape, he started with small spoonfuls of the porridge. He'd finished most of it and took the medicine when the door opened.

So much for any privacy.

"Oh good, you're eating," his healer said, walking to Harry and leaning against the bed. "If it's ok, I'd like to get started with a quick blood test and the medicine to help prevent the nausea. Hopefully this will work better than yesterday."

"That sounds good."

Healer Smithe put on a pair of gloves, "I'll be drawing blood before each chemo treatment to check your blood levels before we start."

Harry nodded and the healer took a small phial of blood, then hooked up the antiemetic. Harry was happy that the small needle prick into the port was both quick and painless.

"Ok, we'll let that drip and then get started. I'm going to go and test your sample and be back once that's done. Do you need anything in the meantime?"

"No, sir". Harry looked through the contents on his desk, picking up his charms book deciding to get started on some of his summer assignments. He opened the desk drawers and found it full of muggle paper and pens. He looked down in confusion.

"It'll be easier to do your work this summer with muggle materials," Snape scared him as he hadn't heard the door open.

"Like you will accept anyone's work on paper, especially mine," Harry said sarcastically tossing his book to the side.

"Since I'm the one who got it approved with your professors and provided said materials, I think you'll be just fine." He leaned up against the wardrobe with his arm crossed across his chest.

"Oh," that made sense. In a need to change the subject he asked, "Sir? What's going to happen with Voldemort and, well, all this?" Harry looked up at the bag hanging on his IV stand.

"Professor Dumbledore and I are working on some contingency plans should something arise," Harry wasn't surprised by the generic answer. "We're going to keep you in the protective wards as much as possible in the meantime."

That didn't sound like much of a plan, but he couldn't really go seek out the dark wizard in his current state, so he had to go with it for once.

Snape moved so he was sitting on Harry's bed across from him, when the healer came back in.

"Let's take a look," he walked over and examined the bag of medication hanging. "Almost done. I'd like to go over the schedule while this finishes." Harry nodded, feeling like that was all he did lately.

"Every Sunday, for the next 5 weeks, you'll get a set of 2 medications through your port; both of which are the first line of treatment for ALL. Over all, each of these treatments should take about 2 hours and you'll have a week's rest between them.

"Side effects you may experience are fatigue, nausea, vomiting, low blood counts, which means you can be more prone to illness and bleeding, - Professor Snape will be trying to keep you as germ-free as possible - mouth sores, and hair loss. You should also know that one of them can cause your urine to turn red or pink because of its red color." He paused so Harry and Snape could digest what he'd said.

"How long will all that last?" Harry thought to ask.

"It varies person to person, but the first 24 hours after chemo trends to be the worst of it. You probably won't feel like doing much or eating much today and that's ok. Just eat and sleep when you can.

"That will be it for this week since you did the first intrathecal yesterday. Starting next week, in addition to the Sunday treatments, we'll add an additional one on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday for 3 weeks in a row. It's a different medication that we'll go over next Tuesday."

Harry could feel Snape's eyes on him, so he lifted his head a little higher, refusing to show weakness in front of the man. "One more question," Harry knew it was going to sound petty in the long run, but had to ask, "will my hair really fall out?"

The healer had been expecting that question. Every cancer patient, especially the adolescents, ask it. "Most likely, yes. The chemotherapy drugs target fast growing cells, which is why they work well in getting rid of the cancerous ones, but they can't differentiate the types of cells and hair follicles are unfortunately fast growing. A lot of patients choose to shave their hair when it starts to fall out."

"Gotcha... Let's just get this over with." What else could he honestly say to all that? He watched Healer Smithe switch the bag out and jumped a little when he felt the cold liquid going through the port.

"Everything ok?" Snape asked.

"Erm, yeah it's just cold."

Healer Smithe answered, "That's also expected because the liquid is room temperature. Let me know if you feel any burning though, that's definitely not normal."

Now Harry felt like an animal on display again as the healer and Snape watched him. It was so uncomfortable that he was actually happy when Snape asked him if he'd like to play a game of chess. The healer busied himself around with files he'd brought to review from the hospital.

Harry was slaughtered by Snape at chess, which didn't completely surprise him. He could guess that the spy had to be pretty good at strategically thinking in order to do what he does every day. They played two games before Harry couldn't focus on it anymore.

"I can teach you some strategy to the game," Snape said casually as he was putting the pieces away.

"Maybe by the end of all this, I'll be good enough to actually give Ron some good competition," Harry thought out loud.

"Possibly, but he's a tough player." Snape didn't realize his slip of tongue.

Harry gave the professor a confused look, "How would you know?" It came out harsher than he expected. "Wait, was that a compliment?"

Thinking quickly Snape said, "If I remember correctly, Mr. Weasley did get awarded a significant amount of points, unfairly I might add, at the end of first year for his chess skills did he not?"

Harry wasn't buying it, but as he was nearing the end of the chemo, he was getting too tired to argue. He mentally added it to the ever expanding list of questions about the professor. He leaned his head down on the desk

"You've completed treatment 1 of chemo," Healer Smithe said tapping Harry on the shoulder. Sitting up, the healer removed the line from his port. "Try not to have any expectations for today, if you feel well enough go ahead and do things as normal, if not just rest."

Harry thought resting sounded like the best thing in the world right now, but didn't want to say so. He stood up and went to sit on the bed and Healer Smithe placed a pail on the floor next to him. Harry eyed it warily, silently happy to have it there. He could feel his stomach starting to flip and flop inside him. Snape was discussing his post-care with the healer, so Harry just laid back on the pillows and waited.

"I feel like we find ourselves in this position often," Snape said handing Harry a glass of water yet again once they were alone. "It's imperative you stay hydrated."

Harry took the glass tentatively sipping it, but a minute later found himself forcefully vomiting into the pail Snape was holding for him. When the nausea finally passed, he was sweating but cold, shaking, exhausted, and starting to feel pain through his body.

"Was he a muggle or a wizard?" Harry asked randomly, his voice cracking from all the vomiting.

He suddenly wanted to know more about the boy Snape had known. Watching Snape process the question, Harry noticed how completely exhausted the man looked; he wondered how much sleep Snape had actually gotten lately and felt guilty for being the reason behind it.

Snape's eyes betrayed his grief for a small second before answering, "He was a wizard." Harry didn't miss the confirmation of the past tense "was"... He was no longer alive and Harry assumed it was because of the cancer.

"And he tried to use the potions didn't he?"

"Yes," Snape's soft answer rang through the room. "Which is why, Harry, I didn't want you trying them, the chemotherapy has far better success than potions. By the time we realized they weren't working, there was nothing else we could do."

"Did they make him as miserable as I feel now?" For a split second Harry considered changing his mind if the potions would alleviate his current predicament.

"Yes and no," Snape recalled. "There was a lot of vomiting in the beginning, much for the same reason you are now - killing off the fast growing cells - but our stomach calming draught was more successful at easing the effects until his body was used to it. He didn't lose his hair, but was still very tired all the time.

"In the middle, several months in, we had a long period where things felt normal. He wasn't in any pain, his energy levels were back to normal, no more excessive bleeding or bruising, we thought we had it beat," Snape was starting to speak as if all of this was so long ago and fresh in his mind at the same time. "And then it took a turn and there wasn't anything we could do. No more potions or chemo would help; we were too late. In the end, all I could do was keep him comfortable."

Harry felt the sadness in his professor's voice. "I'm sorry sir." He meant it, he could tell whomever this boy was, the professor still cared deeply for him.

"You don't need to keep calling me sir," was not what Harry expected to hear.

"Erm... ok professor." The irony wasn't lost on Harry that this was the same man that demanded he be called either sir or professor out of respect.

These conversations were getting stranger by the second, but Harry didn't have time to question it before another wave of nausea hit him hard and he was bending over the edge of the bed vomiting into the pail. His throat was burning from the bile, his head pounding into his ears, and he was very aware of the sour smell coming from inside the pail as he leaned back against his pillows. As if Snape had read his mind - and maybe he had - the contents of the bucket vanished.

"I'll be right back," Snape said quietly walking out of the bedroom.

Harry looked out the window to his left where kids, with their parents in tow, splashed through puddles on the side of the road. The kids were holding umbrellas and laughing big belly laughs to their parents. Harry watched enviously for several minutes when he heard his door open.

Snape walked in and sat on the end of the bed.

"Try this," he said handing Harry what looked like an ice lolly. "It's made with a touch of ginger to help settle your stomach, while hydrating you."

"Thank you professor."

"You're welcome Mister Potter," Snape followed where Harry's gaze was when he arrived. The children were still outside playing in puddles.

"You can call me Harry," the young Gryffindor said. "You seem to switch between that and Potter, but you can call me Harry here."

Snape's face didn't give away his happiness at that statement. "Harry, then. You should get some rest."

"I really wish I could, professor," Harry tried not to whine, "I feel exhausted and jittery at the same time and that if I turn the wrong way, I'm going to sick up again."

Harry then heard Snape hiss in pain, hold his left forearm, and curse. Harry's eyes opened wide when he understood what was happening.

"Go, professor. I'll be fine here."

Snape contemplated something and then nodded his head briefly, "Do not leave this house, ok?"

"Ok sir," Harry said thinking that there was no way he was in any condition to leave now anyway.

Snape gave him one more look and ran out of the bedroom.

Later that evening found Harry sitting on the floor of the lavatory shivering. He'd been there for the last hour after waking up from a fitful nap unable to keep anything in his stomach even though it had been emptied 3 rounds of vomiting ago. All of his body was in pain one way or another, and twice his aunt stuck her horse face into the room complaining that he couldn't take up the loo all day.

He was laying across the floor directly in front of the loo when he quietly heard above him,

"Harry?"

He looked up and Dudley was almost nose-to-nose with him. He groaned, "What do you want Dudley?"

"I... Wanted to see if you needed anything," Harry was surprised by the confidence in his cousin's voice.

"I'm fine..." Harry mumbled, lowering his head against the cold, tile floor.

"Sure you are. Where'd your professor go?"

"He got... Called out for work," it was lame, but the best he could think of under the circumstances.

"What kind of work does a professor get called for in the summer?" To that, Harry gave Dudley a glare that would rival Snape's worst.

"Dudley," Harry tried to say but ended up back over the loo instead. Once he'd finally stopped, but still resting over the bowl completely exhausted, a pudgy hand was placed on his back. The last thing he wanted right now was an audience.

"Are... Are you sure I can't get you somthin','' Dudley nervously asked.

"No, I don't know what I can take or how to get a hold of my healer." In hindsight, this was a big oversight on his and Snape's part.

"Healer?" Dudley was genuinely confused.

Harry laid back down on the floor, "A doctor for magical people. Seriously Dudley, I'll be fine." He closed his eyes hoping to finally get some sleep. A soft blanket was draped over his back and for the first time he was starting to warm up.

The next time he opened his eyes, the light to the bathroom had been turned off and the small window showed it was dark outside. The only light was now what filtered in from the street lamps. He rubbed his eyes, realizing his glasses had been removed. Sighing, he sat up feeling like his insides were on fire, but still had a small shiver when the blanket fell off his shoulders.

Feeling around the floor, his hand brushed against something solid; almost like a person. Groaning, he sat up all the way and could see a large blob leaning against the wall near where his head had been. From the steady breath, the blob was sleeping. Frustrated that his glasses weren't anywhere within reach, he was starting to stand to check on the other side of the sleeping blob.

"Looking for these?" He jumped at the sound of Snape's voice. Having solved both mysteries - where his glasses had gone and who was sleeping - he reached for his glasses that were being held out for him.

"Yeah, I was." His voice was hoarse but he tried to ignore that fact. "What are you doing in here? When did you get back?"

"I sat down waiting for you to wake up. I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep," Snape admitted and Harry thought that had to take some courage for him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like the Knight Bus ran me over... Twice."

"Let's get you up off the cold floor to start," Snape stood up, his robes all wrinkled, and held his hand out to steady Harry as the young man stood. "Have you taken anything?"

Embarrassed, Harry said, "No sir, I wasn't sure what I could take after everything this morning."

"Ah," Snape exclaimed as they rounded into Harry's bedroom. "I should have left instructions."

Harry sat down on his bed noticing a plate of peanut butter toast sitting on his desk. He shivered again at the thought of eating at the moment. Pointing at the food he said, "Thank you professor, but I really can't eat right now."

"I understand, but I believe that came from your cousin," Snape bent down next to the desk and rummaged through a bag Harry just noticed.

"Dudley's been acting strange," Harry said out loud as well as in his head.

With hard eyes, Snape looked at Harry. "If I may, I believe your cousin has just had the realization that you are not infallible."

Harry thought hard about that statement, closing his eyes as images of Harry Hunting flashed through his head; all the times he wished for Dudley to act like this, but had long given up on.

"You need to take your evening medicine," his professor held out a small cup with a variety of tablets and a cup of fizzy off-color liquid.

"What is this?" He asked referring to the beverage.

"Ginger Ale. It will also help settle your stomach."

Harry took a sip and slowly swallowed, taking each tablet with a small space between them to make sure they didn't immediately come back up.

"I don't think I've ever vomited more in my life," midway through one of the episodes, Harry thought about how he had taken for granted his previous good health.

"I spoke to Alton about it and he keeps saying everyone handles it differently. Your magic might be causing some exasperated side effects."

Harry nodded again, his eyes getting extremely heavy.

"Take this," Snape said, handing Harry a black sphere. "If you need me, just squeeze this and it will alert me. The color will change depending on what the issue is, so I can arrive prepared."

Harry placed the sphere on his desk and sunk into his plush pillows.

"G'night sir." Harry mumbled.

"Good night Harry," Snape said, but Harry hadn't heard him. He also didn't feel Snape take off his glasses and place them on the desk before carding his hands through the fringe of his black, messy hair.

~~~~SS~~~~

Earlier that day

"Lemon drop?"

As always, Severus declined the offered sweet from his mentor. Albus would probably have a heart attack if he ever actually took one.

The headmaster gestured to the seat in front of his desk. Severus had apparated to outside of Hogwarts directly after meeting with the Dark Lord, as was customary for these occasions, but he wanted to make this a quick visit so he could get back to Harry. He'd already been gone several hours and should have asked someone to go stay with the ill boy.

Sitting in the plush chair he told Albus, "I need to make this quick as Harry had his first full treatment today and is not well."

"Of course, my boy. Anything of importance to report?"

The Potion Master rubbed his forehead feeling it starting to ache. "This wasn't a full meeting, it appeared that only I was called at least at the time. He's getting impatient about Harry being moved, however that wasn't the purpose of the summons. He asked me to brew an extra-potent pepper up potion; enough for two weeks' time."

"And what do you make of this request?" Albus's eyes were full of questions.

"Could be anything," Severus admitted. "As whatever he's planned approaches, he could want something to keep the Death Eaters going, but my instincts tell me that he's requesting it for personal use. He wouldn't likely want to waste the extra ingredients on increased potency for some Death Eaters. I'd like to point out that my instincts are usually correct."

He could see the older wizard contemplating what this information could mean. "And what about young Harry's location?"

"This was not said to me directly, which again is cause for some concern, however Pettigrew was summoned while I was present. They're going to start a watch on the house, presumably to familiarize themselves with any scheduled departures from the wards.

"It's only a matter of time before they discover Alton's comings and goings. I doubt they'll put the pieces together that he has cancer, but they'll definitely find out someone in the house is ill. Hopefully since Alton does both magical and muggle healing, it'll slow down the discovery of it being Harry."

Albus nodded as he pulled out a broken quill from the top drawer of his desk, then handed it to Severus, "An emergency port key; the activation word is polyjuice. As you know, keep him within the wards as much as possible. Maybe if they see he's not leaving, they'll adjust their plans."

"Unlikely, but either way Harry isn't going anywhere."

Albus interpreted the intended dismissal, "One more thing Severus. Should we inform the other Order members of Harry's condition? If for no other reason, than to provide any last minute care for instances as this?"

Thinking hard about the question and implications of the request, he finally replied, "Ultimately, that should be Harry's decision however I do agree it's warranted. I'll discuss it with him."

Standing up, he walked out the door with the port key safely tucked into his robe pocket.

He apparated to an alleyway near Privet Drive after making sure to have his full glamour just in case the new Death Eater guard was in place. The sun was starting to set which gave him the benefit of hiding in the long shadows, but still having the ability to see anyone that may be trying to follow him.

Severus didn't even pause as he approached the door to #4; opening it and immediately removing the glamour the moment it closed behind him. He walked up the stairs, ignoring the rants from the uncle, and into the guest room he was using to drop off several things he brought from his quarters at Hogwarts while he had been there.

Once that was in order, he quietly walked to Harry's room with another bag of things he'd bought to hopefully help Harry through the next month. The light was off, but the sun still hadn't completely set so he could see throughout the room. Seeing the bed empty, the spy placed the bag next to the desk, eyeing a plate of peanut butter toast, trying to keep his calm about the missing boy.

He opened the door with more force than he'd expected and came face to face with Harry's large cousin.

"He's in the loo," Dudley said pointing to the lavatory. "He's been sickin' up most of the afternoon. I think he finally fell asleep on the floor." The young muggle was very pale and Severus got the impression this was altering the boy's view of his cousin, which was bound to anger Harry at some point.

Resisting the urge to say any number of insults to the boy in front of him, he instead gave a small growl and walked towards the lavatory. Not knowing where Harry was on the floor, he opened the door carefully so as not to open the door into Harry's head.

"Harry?" It was said as a whisper.

The bright light was still on, giving him a clear view of the young wizard asleep on the floor in front of the loo. He was laying in a fetal position and his face was grimaced as though he was in a painful dream. A thick quilt was draped over his shoulders and his curled legs.

The Potion Master removed two large towels from the shelf. He placed one on the floor above Harry's head and sat down upon it. The other he folded into a smaller rectangle, took Harry's glasses off, setting them on his other side, and carefully lifted Harry's head so he could place the towel beneath it. At least now he wouldn't wake up with a crick in his neck amongst the other pain he was already in.

At the last minute, he decided to turn off the bright lights, hoping there was some chance Harry could finally get some sleep - albeit unconventionally. Leaning his back against the wall, his eyes were heavy thinking through the horribly long first treatment day. He resolved to get Harry's permission to tell the Order of his condition. No matter what Harry thought now, he always did better with his friends surrounding him.

It wasn't until Tuesday that Harry started feeling closer to his old self. He was becoming more used to the port that would - for the next couple years anyway - sit under his collar bone, but he was still fatigued and taking the Paracetamol, on a constant rotation for the pain. Now he could at least stay awake enough, and out of the loo enough, to function. However, while he had been feeling physically well, a little better each day, he was starting to feel more irritated as the week went on.

By Friday, he was down right cranky with everything and everyone around him. He finally had time to contemplate the situation that was his life right now... Like the fact that maybe Dudley was more disturbed from the dementor attack last year than he'd originally thought - but that doesn't mean Harry could forgive him for years of torment, too little, too late Dudders -, or that Snape had barely left his side since Sunday night -or was that Monday morning? -, how about that he had yet to receive a single piece of mail from his friends; not like he'd sent anything to them either, but Ron does have Hedwig so he was pretty much off the hook for that one.

In the end, he decided to finally start his summer assignments while he had the energy to work on them before getting knocked down again on Sunday. School was still one of the big unknowns he was trying not to think too closely about. Would he be able to attend classes? If so, would he be able to use magic? Magic was the other big unknown he was avoiding thinking about. Summer assignments required no magic, so for now he could table those questions. That's where Snape found him after breakfast; sitting at his desk writing out his transfiguration essay with a muggle pen and paper.

"If you'd like, I'll look over your essays when you're finished with them." Snape offered. He had been trying to navigate Harry's declining mood all week.

Harry rolled his eyes, but with his back to the dark eyed professor it went, luckily, unseen.

"Yeah right, like I'm going to hand you a reason to insult me," Harry spat back.

Snape frowned at the response, pinching the bridge of his nose as he walked up to the sullen teenager. He leaned against the bed with his arms folded across his chest. He was dressed casually for the day in a white Oxford shirt and black jeans.

"Why would you care about my transfiguration mark anyway?" Harry continued, questioning to himself through the mist of anger, if having Snape read his potions essay would be the worst thing in the world and then a half second later deciding it would be.

Shaking his head slightly Snape replied, "If I were stuck with a Hogwarts professor for the summer, I would have tried to take as much advantage of it as I could."

Harry paused writing mid sentence, "Of course you would; cheating is a very Slytherin trait you know."

"Ah," Snape mocked, "taking the moral high ground I see. It's not like the great Harry Potter has never broken any rules before. And for your information, I guarantee to you every single other student, regardless of house affiliation, is having their summer essays read before handing them in."

Harry was just happy to be able to work on his assignments before the train ride back for term, but he wasn't about to admit that to the greasy dungeon bat.

"Yup, you got me. I only break rules when I don't personally benefit from it. Goes back to that whole martyr thing..." Harry trailed off as his mind wandered -saving people thing - that's what Hermione had told him before he ran off to save Sirius. At least he thought he was saving Sirius. He'd been doing his best to avoid thinking of Sirius this summer.

I got him killed.

If only he'd listened to Hermione, maybe he wouldn't be here. Maybe he'd be back at Grimmauld Place with his Godfather. He felt a pang of grief and guilt rush through his chest. He looked over at Snape with fire in his emerald green eyes, if only the git had actually listened to his warning. As part of the Order, it should have been perfectly clear:

He's got Padfoot in the place where it's hidden

But Dumbledore had said Snape did do something, didn't he? He checked in on Sirius and then alerted the Order. Harry refused to believe it. Besides, even if Snape did act on the warning, it was his fault Sirius wanted to leave in the first place. Snape had to taunt Sirius about being useless; what kind of person says that to someone who was wrongly convicted of murder and had to stay hidden? A complete arsehole that's who!

Snape was staring intently at Harry, watching the inner turmoil pass through the young wizard. He had no way of knowing what triggered the anxiety attack this time and therefore how to help it.

"Do you feel like a martyr?" Snape asked tentatively, taking a guess at what was bothering Harry.

Harry glared over at the professor he'd worked himself into hating all over again.

"No, I don't. It was called sarcasm."

"Trust me Harry, I'm familiar with the term. I'll just leave you be."

Harry flinched at the sound of his given name being used. No, he hadn't forgotten he'd given his hated professor the permission to use it, but that felt like a lifetime ago. He watched as Snape placed down the small cup of his morning medication and a glass of water onto the desk beside his essay. Oh, he'd forgotten to take those downstairs. Harry's ears turned pink with embarrassment.

"This is your fault!" Harry yelled just before Snape left the bedroom.

The professor stopped in his tracks, turned around taking a single step back into the hostile room, and closed the door behind him. Harry audibly gulped, but was so angry about Sirius, he didn't care if the anger was misdirected even a little.

"Do pray tell, what exactly is my fault? I'd like to be certain we're both on the same subject before this argument," Snape sounded almost amused.

"You know what I mean!" Harry screamed back not caring how immature he sounded. If he was more alert he would have noticed that Snape seemed oddly comfortable with the idea of arguing with a moody teenager.

"You're the reason Sirius went to the Department of Mysteries!" He'd said it only half believing it himself. "You were always telling him how useless he was and thinking you were so much better than him." Harry looked disgusted at Snape.

"The only reason you're helpful is because you were stupid enough to get branded by your other master before having what, some kind of epiphany? Changed your mind but it was too late? Maybe torturing kids in class was all you needed to feel powerful?" Harry knew he had gone too far, but it felt too good.

Snape, to Harry's surprise, wasn't looking nearly as furious as Harry had expected.

"You're getting dangerously close to things you can't even start to comprehend. Do you hear me? I suggest you turn around and finish your school work." Snape lectured with a harsh snap in his voice warning Harry to leave it be.

"No!" Harry challenged back. "I don't understand how Dumbledore can so blatantly trust you when you've given absolutely no reason for him to."

"And you've been privy to every conversation between Professor Dumbledore and myself?" Snape mocked. "Can you not only hear conversations from afar but also before you were born?" Snape put a hard emphasis on the last four words. Harry felt himself flush even more as Snape approached him.

"Furthermore," Snape continued, "I'd like to point out that had I wanted to deliver you to the Dark Lord, I would have had ample opportunities over the last week to do so. Merlin knows your relatives wouldn't lift a finger to stop me," that was low Harry thought. "So if nothing else, I should have, at least by now, earned a sliver of your trust."

Harry knew he'd deserved every word of that, but he was still furious inside. Looking up at Snape, who was standing with his head hung rubbing the back of his neck, Harry thought he could see a flicker of regret.

"Your Godfather's death is the fault of no one besides the Dark Lord and Bellatrix," Snape finally said after a period of neutral silence between them. "Are there other circumstances that contributed to his death? Absolutely-"

"You mean like you not properly teaching me occlumency?" Harry interrupted.

Snape took a deep breath, thinking back to their disastrous occlumency sessions in the past year before calmly replying, "I put as much effort into teaching you, as you put into learning from me."

Harry couldn't deny that statement. He wished more than anything that he could. He wished he could go back and change it. Could he have trusted Snape enough to learn properly? Probably not, but he could have tried harder to make Dumbledore see how bad of an idea it was for Snape to teach him. Of course if he knew the other option was that Sirius died, maybe he would have tried harder even with Snape as a teacher.

His green eyes met Snape's obsidian eyes fully expecting to hear "Legilimens". He shivered at the thought that Snape can probably do Legilimency nonverbally and wandlessly. A scowl was still firmly planted on his face until Snape bent down to kneel in front of him. Instinctively, the Boy-Who-Lived leaned back in his chair in an attempt to put some distance from his professor, preparing for the backlash he was going to receive.

"Harry," Snape said in a quiet voice sounding like he was trying to keep his patience. Harry couldn't hide how obvious it was that he was caught off guard.

"What," Harry finally said when it was clear Snape wasn't going to continue unprompted.

"Finish your homework and I'll be checking it over when you're done," Snape said and in one movement stood up, walked to the door, and left closing the door behind him.

Luck was on Harry's side because Snape had stayed out of Harry's room for the rest of the day. Harry wondered briefly what the man did during the day when they were inevitably locked up in the house. He made a mental note to peek into the guest room the next time Snape was occupied elsewhere. Not that invading his privacy was a good idea, but the professor was staying at his "home" so Harry considered it justifiable.

Walking down the stairs to the dinner table, which was the only other place he went besides his room, since he couldn't go outside due to potential exposure and he refused to sit anywhere casually with his relatives, he saw dinner was already served on the table. Not being responsible for a house-elf's worth of chores was a nice change for the summer, but he missed cooking. Even though he never got to really eat what he made, he enjoyed creating something seemingly on his own, and it helped that he was actually good at it too.

Tonight's dinner of roasted chicken with baby potatoes and broccoli sat plated out at three place settings. Confused for a minute, Harry looked around to see if maybe Harry was getting out of "family dinner time". Much to his displeasure, Dudley spotted him before he could head back upstairs to the safety of his room.

"Mum and dad went out again," his cousin explained. "Dad's got this big client he's been working on for weeks and he thinks they'll sign any day now."

Harry stared at the large teenager in front of him. Dudley was only a month older than him; if things had gone differently, if Dudley had treated him like a brother - no, Harry had stopped thoughts like that years ago.

"As long as it gets them out of the house, I really don't care why," Harry was still cranky and the last thing he wanted to do was small talk.

He sat down in the chair to Dudley's left, deciding that it was probably safer than sitting next to Snape. He was surprised the potions professor wasn't at the table yet, he rarely missed a meal. Maybe their earlier argument was worse than Harry had thought.

"You seem to be feeling better," Dudley said with a mouthful of potatoes.

Harry really just wanted to eat and leave, but that clearly wasn't about to happen. "Yeah, at least until Sunday."

"Why Sunday?" Dudley looked confused.

"Erm... That's when I get another round of chemo," Harry was pushing his broccoli around on his plate. Even though he wasn't as nauseous anymore, his appetite was not anywhere near normal.

"Oh," Dudley was looking down at his plate of food. "Where's your professor?"

"No idea," Harry peeked around as if he'd expected Snape to apparate downstairs. "We kind of had a row this morning."

Dudley's face went pale, clearly afraid of what Snape could do when he was angry. "You were never one to back down from a fight," he added, looking at Harry.

"What's that supposed to mean," the smaller teen said clearly insulted. "What the hell has gotten into you?" If Harry wasn't already so irritated, he probably wouldn't have bothered asking.

Dudley sat quietly staring at his hands for a solid minute before speaking. He could barely look at Harry in the eyes, "I've done some thinking this year... Well actually... y'see, there was a kid at Smeltings, David, and he reminded me a lot of you."

Harry wasn't expecting a story, mostly because he didn't think Dudley could put enough sentences together, but he listened to what his cousin had to say.

"I... Well, my friends too... It was like having another you at my new school" Dudley stuttered along.

"You mean you beat him up," Harry added, calling it for what it was.

"Yeah," Dudley didn't sound as proud as Harry expected him to, "but like you, he gave it as much as he took it, so it's not like I felt sorry for him or anything.

"I didn't really pay attention, you know, he was just always around. At least until we got back from Easter break this year and he... wasn't there." Dudley paused and looked up at Harry causing the smaller boy to shiver in anticipation.

"My classmates, we were all called to the auditorium that first day back, and... Well, David was killed over the Easter break. They said his dad... " Dudley waited either to compose himself or for his cousin to understand. Harry already had guessed where this story was going.

"The next couple days," Dudley continued, "they had counselors talking to the classes. All sorts of things like what child abuse is, recognizing the signs of child abuse, and who to contact if you or someone you know is being abused."

Harry put his fork down half in shock that his cousin had some kind of conscious now, half because he didn't want to sit and listen to this.

"Dudley, it's-" Harry started.

"No, Harry," Dudley loudly interrupted, "it's not ok. I guess... it was the first time I really thought about the way you were treated and that it wasn't normal."

Harry was not comfortable with this conversation. Yeah, things at the Dursley's weren't good, but he never considered himself abused. Just thinking of that word made him sick inside. Was Dudley trying to apologize to him?

First Snape and now this

"... And then," Harry realized he hadn't been listening to what Dudley had said, "after everything that happened, after all those years, you saved my life last summer. You didn't have to do that... I- I probably wouldn't have done it." Harry didn't doubt that one bit.

Holding his head in his hands, trying to think through everything Dudley had said on top of all the things his brain was already contemplating. It's all too much. Sirius, Leukemia, Snape, now Dudley. He could feel Dudley staring at him on his right and he peeked up to see Snape's plate of food sitting in front of the still empty seat.

"I have to go-" Harry stood up feeling completely exhausted and wanting just to go to bed.

"Wait," Dudley went to grab Harry's wrist, but the wizard staggered backwards at the sudden movement. He barely caught himself from tumbling backwards, "we were wrong. Ok? I know that now... Even if my parents don't."

Harry couldn't breathe. He was aware of his chest moving up and down, but it felt like the oxygen just couldn't reach his brain. He stood staring at his cousin, visions of being locked in his cupboard for days, getting hit by his aunt, uncle, and Dudley, hours of chores, and lack of food floated in and out of his mind. It was not unlike when Snape carded through his memories during the horrible occlumency lessons; memories forced across his eyes.

"Whatever," Harry mumbled as he quickly walked out of the room and up the stairs.

He could hear a door close further down the hall just as his bedroom door closed and he held his breath thinking Snape was about to walk in. He slowly let it out when Snape never entered.

He laid across the bed on his stomach, sun filtering in from the window across his back. He missed being outside. He missed feeling healthy. He missed his friends. He missed Hogwarts. He missed Sirius. It was with those invasive thoughts that he finally fell asleep, still in his oversized clothing on top of his comfortable blankets.

Harry found himself being shaken awake without any idea of how long he had been asleep. Peeking through his eyes, he could see the sun had mostly set and the lights lining the quiet street were illuminated. Sitting in the armchair across from his bed was Snape, no longer dressed in his muggle clothing, but instead his black robes like he had just gotten back from somewhere.

"You need to take your evening medication," the Potions Master said plainly.

Harry peered towards the desk and saw a cup with his medication along with a glass of water and a bowl of yoghurt with what appeared to be granola sprinkled on top. He sat up and rubbed his eyes and temples; sleeping with his glasses on always made his temples sore.

Harry reached out and grabbed the small cup and the glass of water and one by one took the tablets. He was starting to feel extremely sore, so he was happy it was time to take them.

"I'm sorry sir," Harry finally said breaking the uncomfortable silence.

Snape frowned as he looked at the young wizard in front of him. "You've got a lot going on right now, but you've never been one for self-pity Harry, don't start now."

Harry's anger tried to resurface. He wasn't dwelling in self-pity and he resented Snape for thinking that.

"It wasn't self-pity," he defended. "I'm just angry with everything."

"That's to be expected." Snape commented as if he were talking about the weather. "Not only is your body under a lot of stress, at least one of the medications you're on can cause some... Changes in your mood."

Now it was Harry's turn to frown. He hadn't thought about the effects of all the medications being somehow related to his current attitude.

"Where did you go?" Harry nodded to the robes Snape was wearing.

"We had a quick order meeting while you were sleeping."

"Here?!" Harry was surprised he wasn't woken by his uncle's ranting about more magical people.

"No," Snape looked at Harry as if he was the biggest dunderhead the professor had ever seen. "And Molly stayed here with you while I was gone."

"Did you tell them?" Harry asked quietly as he reached for the yoghurt and started taking small bites.

Two days ago, Snape had suggested they inform select Order members about his Leukemia. These are the people tasked with keeping him alive after all and they should know what to expect, there were times that Snape would be called away by either Dumbledore or Voldemort, but the point he stressed the most was that Harry needed to have people he trusted to help him through this and they couldn't do that unless they knew about it. In the end, Snape didn't really need to do all that to convince Harry. Before his first chemo, he would have told Snape where to shove the idea, but afterwards he just didn't want to be there to tell everyone. In the end it was a win-win for both of them.

"Yes, it was discussed," Snape explained while shedding his outer robe. "As promised, we only divulged the information to select members - Molly, Arthur, Tonks, Shacklebolt, and Moody - Remus already knows and was not in attendance tonight anyway. Also as we discussed, I let Molly know she could tell her children."

Harry thought that sounded like a lot of people and was secretly glad they'd discussed the list beforehand. Otherwise, with his current short temper, he would probably be extremely angry.

"Anything I should know about from the meeting?" While Sirius was the only person who ever told him anything about the Order, he figured he had nothing to lose by asking Snape.

Snape's eyes narrowed, "No, like I said this was a quick update meeting."

Harry thought about that sentence as he finished his yoghurt. Snape didn't say he wouldn't tell him what was said, just that there was nothing he should know. He filed that information away for later.

"What happened with your cousin?" Snape asked casually as he took the bowl from Harry and handed him the rest of the water to finish.

"Oh, erm," Harry did not want to tell Snape about his treatment from the Dursleys. This summer had been so strange, Snape would be none the wiser to it. "Something happened at his school, I wasn't paying too much attention."

It was obvious Snape didn't believe one bit of that excuse and Harry couldn't blame him. He's a spy; just by him asking what happened meant he likely already knew.

"Are you ok?" Snape asked and Harry's head shot up at the question.

"It's fine, professor, really. He meant no harm," and Harry actually believed that.

Dudley couldn't know what he made Harry relive by bringing up all of the past. Harry also thought it peculiar how Snape was so interested in that situation. He remembered the memories he had accidentally seen by using the Protego spell. Maybe Snape could relate, which is now the second time he's said that about man in less than a week.

"I think I'm going to go shower before bed," Harry said standing up.

Snape nodded, "Good night Harry." He stood and took one more hard look at Harry before walking out the door to his own bedroom.

14 July, 1996 Day 7

After his outburst with both Snape and Dudley on Friday, Harry was trying his hardest to curb his irritation away from other people and things beyond his control. He was far from perfect, and he gave himself some leniency when dealing with his Aunt and Uncle, but overall he thought he was handling it well. He was going as far as to avoid Dudley whenever possible, which wasn't as difficult as he thought it would be.

On Sunday, he was sitting at his desk, dressed in another comfortable pair of pyjamas, light blue this time, after showering and eating a light breakfast, waiting on his blood results. According to the healer, the results would show if he was healthy enough to receive the treatment that day. He laughed at the irony that they were checking to see if he was healthy enough to get a poison injected to him, which in turn makes him sick, so it can try to cure a completely different illness.

He was reading through one of the books Snape had left for him to help keep him busy. It was an American muggle book, To Kill a Mockingbird, questioning where Snape would have come across a book like this. Either way, it was nothing like he assumed it would be based on the title, but gave him something different to read besides his school books and he was getting pretty interested in it along the way.

He looked up from his book when he heard a tapping on his window. Unlike last week's chemo, today was a beautiful day making Harry more irritated for not only having to stay inside, but that he would likely be in bed - or the loo - most of the day. A spark of happiness raced through him when he looked to the window and saw Hedwig tapping on the glass.

"Hedwig," he exclaimed, opening the window to let her in. He allowed the window to sit open a little longer than he should have just to feel the morning breeze. The snowy owl held out her leg for Harry to take the letter. As expected, it was from Ron. Harry's heart started racing knowing this was likely a reaction to his best friend learning about the leukemia. He reached into the desk to pull out an owl treat for Hedwig, still unsure if he wanted to read the letter now, when Healer Smithe and Snape walked in.

"You... have... an owl," Healer Smithe said surprised.

"Yes sir," Harry answered, "this is Hedwig. She's been at my friend's house."

Harry could tell by the sympathetic look in the healer's eyes that was not a good thing.

"I'm sorry Harry," the healer said, "but Hedwig will need to go to Severus's room from now on."

"Wait," Harry felt like he was losing a friend, "I can't even see her?"

This time it was Snape that responded, "We talked about keeping your surroundings as clean as possible. Unfortunately your owl is counterproductive to that endeavor."

Harry looked at Hedwig wondering if she would go with either man. As if reading his mind, Healer Smithe held out his arm in front of Hedwig.

"Go on girl," Harry urged her. "You'll have to stay in the guest room until I can finish this letter back."

Reluctantly, Hedwig stepped onto the offered arm and was led out of the room. Harry once again felt very alone.

"Alton said your blood counts are holding steady," Snape got right down to business. "He'll start the antiemetic once he's back in."

Harry nodded, still fingering the letter in his hand.

"From your friends? Mr. Weasley, no doubt?"

"Yeah," Harry mumbled. "I'm a little nervous to open it. Do you think that's normal?"

"Absolutely," Snape sat on the edge of the bed.

"Ron hasn't always had the best reaction to startling news," Harry admitted. "Who knows how he'll react to this."

"I'm sure his mother made him wait before writing to you and likely read it before she allowed him to send it. She wouldn't let him upset you in such a state," Harry didn't know that Snape was concerned for this exact scenario and had spoken about it at length with Molly when he'd told her the news on Friday.

"I think I'll wait to read it," Harry placed the letter on top of his desk.

"Please don't delay too long," Snape said amused, "after all, your owl is my roommate until you reply."

"I'll work on that today," Harry said to which Snape simply nodded.

Within 15 minutes, Harry was hooked up to the antiemetic medicine through his port. Without anything else to do, he picked up To Kill a Mockingbird when there was a knock on his door. At this point, Snape usually just walked into the room, Harry's privacy seemingly abandoned by his 3rd or 4th trip to sick up in the loo last week.

"Come in," he tentatively said, more curious than anything about who would be knocking at his door.

He was more surprised than he should have been when Dudley walked in.

"Oh Merlin," Harry complained.

"Who's Merlin?" Dudley asked, staring warily at the I.V. stand and tubing running from it to Harry's chest; through his buttoned down pyjama shirt.

"He's a wizard... nevermind," Harry shook his head, "what are you doing in here?"

"Can I, y'know, come in?"

Harry took a deep breath. Dudley never asked his permission for anything and technically still considered this room his second bedroom, so Harry didn't see why he bothered asking.

"Sure," Harry stood up off the armchair and gestured for Dudley to take it as he pulled his IV stand so he could lay on the bed. "What do you want?"

"Uh," Dudley stuttered.

"Eloquent as always I see," Harry smirked. He couldn't pass up the chance to throw that out. It would have been better if Snape were in the room to hear it though.

"Hey!" Dudley looked offended. "I wanted to check after our last talk."

"It's fine Dudley," Harry didn't like being backed against a corner and yet that's how he felt right now. Instead, he turned to look out the window feeling envious of the neighborhood kids allowed to go outside.

Somehow Dudley managed to pick up on Harry's look because he said, "You can't go outside."

It wasn't a question, but Harry answered anyway, "No I can't. Apparently this whole process makes me more likely to get sick from germs. And then if that doesn't kill me the psychopathic dark wizard after me will."

He saw a look pass by his cousin's face. Harry refused to believe it was pity. He couldn't handle Dudley Dursley's pity. Luckily they were interrupted by Snape and Healer Smithe coming back in.

"Ok, you should be ready to move onto the good stuff," the healer said. Harry wanted to disagree, the antiemetic was the good stuff.

Snape was watching Dudley gauging what Harry's reaction would be to his cousin's presence.

"And I'll have more later this week?" Harry asked, ignoring the other 2 occupants in the room.

"That's right," the healer added while changing out the lines for his first chemo medication. "We're adding a new medication which will be given Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday for the next three weeks."

"Also in the port?" Harry asked looking away as the needle was pressed into his chest. While the numbing agent made sure he didn't feel the prick, he didn't like looking at it as it went in.

"Yes that's correct."

"Great," Harry couldn't have made that sound any more sarcastic. "And I'm guessing I'll feel the same way afterwards?"

"More or less," Harry could tell he was being intentionally vague, "they pretty much all work the same way. This one may also make you feel feverish."

Harry just looked at the healer. What else could he say, the alternative was dying and he didn't want that, especially not before defeating Voldemort, so that's pretty much it.

"How's your pain level been?" Healer Smithe asked after the drip was set up and running.

Harry thought hard on how to answer that question. It wasn't in his nature to complain. "I don't know. The prescription strength tablets work much better than the Paracetamol lately, but even those aren't lasting as long as they used to."

Snape added, "He hasn't been given the Paracetamol since Wednesday. It just wasn't working."

Healer Smithe bent down into his bag and pulled out a bottle. He handed it to Snape, "If it gets unmanageable, and you'll know when that happens, the Morphine should help."

Snape examined the bottle, shook his head in agreement and walked out presumably to put that with Harry's other medications.

"I'll be back to swap the bags in a bit," Healer Smithe was packing up while talking and placed the dreaded pail next to Harry's bed, "just sit back and try to relax."

"Sure thing sir," Harry replied as the adults all left the room leaving only him and Dudley.

"What's this?" Dudley asked, picking up Harry's old potions textbook.

This should be interesting.

"It's one of my text books from school," Harry tried to keep from smirking, waiting for the scream to inevitably leave Dudley's mouth when he realized he touched something magical. "It's actually the subject that Professor Snape teaches."

"Potions? What is Potions?" Dudley was flipping through the book.

"Erm... I guess it's like muggle chemistry," having never taken chemistry in his muggle primary school, for obvious reasons, it was only a guess.

"Your professor is a bit terrifying. Is he like that in class?"

"Oh, he's much worse in class," Harry almost laughed. "We have a complicated history."

Dudley looked up at his pale cousin, "I wouldn't have guessed that."

Now Harry's interest had peaked, "Really? Why do you think that?"

Dudley placed the book down, "None of my professors would step in like yours did and help with my medical problems."

Harry didn't doubt that, but Dudley's never been one to elicit any warm and fuzzy feelings for anyone either. Not only that, he had two adoring parents to take care of any of his needs. When he really thought about it, Harry wouldn't want to end up like Dudley; where it took the death of a classmate to open his eyes to the type of life he's lived.

"It's kind of his job," Harry waved off the comment.

"You're not in school, so it's really not his responsibility."

There was no way Harry was going to get into the responsibility of the Order. In the end, he knew Snape was only stepping up because the Order needed to keep him safe. He had a job to do and until Voldemort was gone for good, they'd do anything to protect him. It was a saddening thought when he dwelled on it for too long.

"It's complicated, Dudley. It's nothing like that," Harry's heart was pounding as his breathing increased. "Hey Dudley," Harry started, "can you hand me..."

Luckily Dudley understood what his cousin was asking for and handed Harry the pail just in time for him to vomit inside it instead of on the floor. Dudley was uncomfortable as if he were intruding on a personal moment. Of course, it wasn't personal for long as midway through Harry's heaving, the healer and potions professor walked in.

Hearing the retching, Snape approached the bed. Harry felt the bed dip down as the dry heaves were finally ending. Handing Harry a glass of water, he pointed his wand into the bucket to vanish the sick away. Dudley's eyes went wide.

"Time to swap bags," the healer was already moving the bags around on the stand. Harry leaned against his pillows giving the man full access to the port site. Looking to his right, Dudley was watching everything they did.

"So, why can't you use magic to make this disappear?" Harry expected his cousin to have an exceedingly stupid question, but this was actually a logical one.

"Cancer is pretty rare in the wizarding world, so we don't have much to treat it," Harry explained since Snape and the healer were discussing some aspect of his treatment amongst themselves.

"How did you get it then?" Dudley asked. Harry didn't want to think about this question, but couldn't blame his cousin for asking.

"I dunno," he answered honestly. "Does it really matter?"

"I guess not," Dudley answered and picked up the potions book again. Snape was watching him flip through the text.

"Something interest you?" Snape asked when Dudley stopped on a page to read.

"This says it's a 'Be-fun-del-la-ment draught', " Dudley looked up at the professor. "What does that do?"

"The Befuddlement Draught," the Potions Master slowly corrected watching Harry as he was looking more nauseated by the second, "when brewed correctly, will cause the drinker to become reckless."

Dudley looked both terrified and amazed at the same time. "Why would someone make that?"

This time Snape didn't patronize the boy with a response. Instead, he focused on Harry who was leaning against his pillows with a grimace of pain on his closed eyes.

Harry was listening to Dudley's insane questions. Why was he even here? He doesn't care what happens to Harry or about his school anyway. What he wouldn't give to be anywhere else right now, even sitting in potions class.

Ok, maybe that's too far.

In order to avoid this awful conversation, he feigned sleep. He had no doubt that Snape likely knew he wasn't actually sleeping, and silently thanked the man for not calling him out on it. Once he felt the line removed from his port, the healer bid Snape goodbye promising to be back on Tuesday to start the new medication, and he heard the door close, he silently laid there listening to the sound of his uneven breathing. He heard a rustling sound near his desk and inwardly moaned. He wasn't alone like he'd hoped.

"What are you doing here?"

The sound paused, "I thought I'd wait for you to wake up," Dudley explained. "Just in case you need anything."

Harry was feeling suffocated. How did he go from not a single person in #4 Privet Drive giving a damn about him to now feeling suffocated by them?

"Ok, Dudley. I give up," Harry sat up carefully, "what is it that you want?"

Dudley appeared to be thinking hard about this subject, "I feel bad."

"So this is about helping ease your guilt?" Harry couldn't keep the anger and resentment out of his voice.

"No!" Dudley yelled. "It's not like that. After all those counselor meetings at school... I found that I actually liked talking to them. It helped me sort some of the things going through my mind. And after those dementy things last summer, there was a lot to think about."

Harry listened while staring at his bare feet dangling off the edge of his bed. At this point it would almost be better to cut his losses and just forget about why Dudley wanted to talk things through, if nothing else, than to hurry this process along.

"They said I should talk to you about it. Since you still live here." Dudley added.

"Only one and a half summers left and I'll be free," Harry mumbled to himself. He raised his head and met Dudley's eyes. "Dudley, we're not going to be friends. That broom has left, so to say."

"I know that," Dudley had regret written across his face and Harry realized what Snape had meant by Harry wearing his emotions on his face. Dudley was extremely easy to read. "I just want to help you now."

Too tired to argue, Harry asked, "Can you hand me that letter?" He pointed to the parchment Hedwig delivered this morning. He might as well read it now.

Dudley picked it up like it might have been poisoned, "Who's it from?"

Harry resisted the urge to tell him it wasn't any of his business. "I'm guessing my best friend Ron," Harry glared at Dudley threatening him to question Harry having friends. "My owl was at his house."

Harry took the letter from his cousin.

"What's that on your hand?" Dudley asked as Harry's right hand reached to grab the letter.

Harry looked down and saw the familiar scar, I must not tell lies.

"It's complicated," Harry put the letter under his pillow and covered his right hand with his left.

His cousin didn't say anything for about a minute, then he challenged, "You say that a lot... That's it's complicated"

Something about that statement broke a dam of emotion within Harry that he'd been trying his hardest to hold back. He refused to cry in front of his cousin, so he clenched his jaw closed to hold it in as best he could.

"My life is complicated and if you can't see that, I can't even start to explain it to you." He never could understand why Ron was so jealous of him. He'd give all his fame and fortune to live like Ron - not being targeted for things beyond his control, having a family that cared about him, not having the fate of the wizarding world on his shoulders, not having everyone around him dying, not fighting an invisible disease within his blood. Harry felt defeated in every way possible.

"Obviously I know about your parents and the cancer, but did you do that to yourself?," Dudley asked, gesturing to Harry's hand.

"Oh, you know about my parents? Do you though?," Harry raised his voice trying to sort through his thoughts. "Did you know my parents were murdered because some dark wizard wanted to kill me? That the last thing they ever did was die to protect me? And now that same wizard is back and actively trying to kill me? That's why professor Snape is here. He's tasked with protecting me from that wizard until I'm good enough to finally kill him, nothing more."

He knew Dudley had heard that his parents had not died in a car crash like he had been told, but there's only so much a kid at that age could comprehend. Harry had barely been able to understand what had happened besides his parents died heroically saving him and not drunks.

"And for the record... this," Harry lifted his hand for emphasis, "was done to me, got it? Now leave," he finally yelled and threw the first thing he could reach, his pillow, for good measure. "Leave NOW!"

~~~~SS~~~~

It was just after 2am when Severus felt the distinct buzzing from the sphere he kept on him that alerts him when Harry needed help. It had been a trying day, at best, as his thoughts cleared to the previous day's events.

He had no one to blame but himself for Harry's mood after leaving Dudley alone with him. In his old reality, Dudley and Harry had eventually reconciled and he, probably incorrectly, assumed that was the natural progression taking place here. Of course, Harry had several extra significant years with the Dursley's that he didn't have in the old reality, so that was bound to have an impact on it all. Either way, as the day lingered, he was getting a larger migraine from it all.

After the Dudley conflict, Harry had slept until mid-evening, mostly due to the increased morphine that Alton had prescribed. This gave some much needed time for Severus to catch up on work and rest. Unfortunately once Harry was awake, the time was spent with back and forth trips from the lavatory to playing chess or muggle cards in his bedroom.

Severus was getting concerned with how Harry was going to handle the mid-week chemo that was being added for the next 3 weeks because his body used that time the previous round to recover. Without that break, he wasn't sure how Harry would maintain his fluid and calorie intake. Even after all his research, he didn't expect the process to be this difficult. He doubted that had they done this in his other reality, it would be this challenging. Here, in addition to keeping up with Harry's care, he was also balancing the Dark Lord, the Order, and keeping Harry's relatives in line. It was too much.

He didn't need to look at the sphere to know he would find Harry back in the lavatory, wondering how long the teen had waited before finally calling him. Wrapping his black sleeping robe around himself, Severus walked out into the hall just as Vernon was coming from the lavatory.

"Does he have to do this at all hours of the day and night? All I ever hear anymore is the doors slamming," Vernon whined as he waddled past the professor. "Some of us actually have to work around here and need some peace and quiet!"

This time Severus couldn't resist the urge and used all his strength to grab the oversized man and slammed him into the wall. A picture frame hanging on his right of a three-person family out on a beach, Dudley looking about 8 years old and Harry clearly missing, trembled and fell from the impact. Severus didn't even blink when he heard the glass shatter across the floor.

"I'll have you know Dursley that there are things I'm more than capable of doing that would go completely unnoticed by your muggle authorities. Trust me, you do not want to test me on this," he brought his face so he was nose-to-nose with the man. "I don't even want to see you breathing towards that boy in there, understood?"

Vernon's face turned purple, both from anger and lack of oxygen due to Severus's arm across his large throat.

"I know your rules, you can't do your freaky things on normal people."

Severus tightened his grip, "It's really a shame sometimes, however never did I mention anything about using magic."

Vernon's eyes went wide when the implications made it through his idiotic brain. With one last shove into the wall, Severus let go of the man and said, "Now get out of my face," before continuing down the hallway.

He knocked once on the lavatory door and then looked in. Harry was shivering on the floor clearly in pain. He was paler - if that was even possible - and his emerald eyes were dull and sunken in, clearly not the healthy, defiant teenager from only a month ago, or even a couple days ago.

"S- sorry professor." His shoulders were slumped with his head held in his hands.

"It's nothing," Severus opened the medicine cabinet to pull out several bottles looking for the right one; it was time for his morphine dose. He summoned a glass and the ginger ale before kneeling in front of the young Gryffindor. "Here, this should help."

"Yeah," Harry sounded exhausted, but took the glass, "thank you."

Severus watched Harry take the medication wishing he could do something more; wishing he could comfort not only the boy who still felt like his son, but also the teenager who thought he was all alone in this life. The Potions Master grabbed a hand towel, dampened it, and placed it on the back of Harry's neck. They both sat on the floor against the bathtub, side-by-side, feet extended out in front of them.

"I think every time I come to the bathroom, it wakes Uncle Vernon up," Harry said through the shivers. "Don't see how, his room is on the other end of the house."

Severus took off his black sleeping robe and draped it across Harry's shoulders. "Don't think twice about him."

"H-hard not to s-sir," Harry stuttered, "he's been here yelling ev'ry time I'm in here."

The professor had to use his strong occlumency shields to keep his calm. Harry didn't need him throwing a fit right now.

As the minutes ticked away, Severus could tell Harry was relaxing into sleep. The young wizard was breathing deeply and leaned over to rest against Severus's arm, but no sooner did Harry's head touch his shoulder, he lurched up and was heaving into the loo. Severus kneeled up and placed his hand on Harry's shoulders to help support him upright. Once that round was done, he helped Harry stand so he could rinse his mouth again.

"Think you can get back into bed?" Severus asked. "You'll be infinitely more comfortable there and we can play another round of chess if you don't feel like sleeping." It was something he spent a lot of nights doing with his Harry in that last month. He shook his head side-to-side to clear those thoughts.

Harry just nodded, pulling the black robe tightly around him. Walking slowly out of the lavatory, making sure Harry didn't stumble, they made it back into the bedroom. Harry climbed into bed carefully and Severus pulled out the chess board peeking a look at the clock - 2:45 am - he would probably need to go back to his quarters to replenish his invigoration drafts.

They played with a companionable silence between them, neither fully focusing on the game.

"Professor McGonagall tells me you want to be an Auror," Severus brought up casually.

Harry smiled, "Yeah, I'm hoping so."

"Any reason why you think you won't? From what I hear, that group you taught last year was quite impressive." That was another difference Severus noticed with the different realities, without Umbridge as a defense professor Harry didn't need to run the defense association.

Harry flushed a little at the offhand compliment. "Oh, well thanks. I didn't realize news of that spread."

"Most of the professors knew and secretly supported your efforts. I also heard the members are expected to do above average in their defense O.W.L.s," he paused. "So I can only guess your hesitation is on your potions marks." It was a risky subject to bring up as they've typically stayed in neutral territory.

"Erm, that's probably the biggest factor...yeah," Harry was nervous. "But I can't do much else at this point until I get my marks back. I think I did better than I expected, I just don't know if it was Outstanding enough." Harry was examining the move Severus just did; it was obvious he wasn't too involved in the game.

"That's a very mature way to think about it," Severus frowned at Harry's rookie move.

"I've got plenty of other things I can be worrying about right now," Harry yawned at the end of that sentence. "At this rate, I might not be alive to do it anyway."

He looked at Harry trying to think of something to say. Everything always seemed worse in the middle of the night and he had no idea what to tell the boy in front of him.

"I know," Harry finally said, "I shouldn't dwell in self-pity."

"Very good advice," Severus complimented himself. "You'll get there, I promise you."

"Sure," Harry said with a blanket of sadness in his voice.

"Let's call it a night. You look about ready to sleep."

Severus started to pack the game up while Harry laid down in his bed and rolled onto his side.

"Sleep well Harry," he said as he got up, removed Harry's glasses and placed them on the desk. He took the sphere out of his pyjama pocket and placed it next to the glasses. His eyes caught a glimpse of the clock - 3:47 am - it would be dawn too soon.

"G'night professor," Harry sleepily replied. "Thank you."

"You needn't thank me Harry," he said quietly as he closed the door.

The Potion Master was happy that Harry slept until almost quarter to eleven, only waking shortly once to take his medications around seven that morning.

The only requirement Severus had for Harry during all of this was he needed to be downstairs for mealtimes, but he was more lenient after chemo days. Harry needed to get as much rest as he could get.

Severus was sitting at the desk in his room, clearly avoiding the Dursley's as much as possible, when there was a knock on his door. Grabbing his wand out of habit, he stood and slowly went to the door, cracking it open.

"Harry," he released his breath seeing the young wizard standing in front of him. Harry had showered, as was evident by his messy, still wet hair. He had also changed out of the pyjamas and into a pair of lounge pants and an oversized grey shirt.

"What can I do for you?" the professor asked, stepping out of his room into the hallway. Hedwig was back from hunting, so Harry could not enter the room until it had been fully cleaned.

Harry handed a letter to him, "Can you ask Hedwig to send this to Ron?"

"Of course," Severus replied. He looked at the letter then added, "You didn't mention my staying here, correct?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "No sir. I know better than to do something like that; besides Ron would flip out. I don't need that right now."

Severus nodded, then leaned back into the room to place the letter on the bed as a reminder to send it later.

"Are you hungry?" he asked Harry as they walked downstairs. He stopped Harry before he could inevitably say he wasn't, "I thought about trying a smoothie for lunch. The liquids seem to sit better on your stomach than the solids. Muggles have powders we can add to make them more nutritionally sound."

Harry flushed at the offer, "It's worth a try, professor. The worst that can happen is I sick it up anyway."

By the time they made it downstairs, Dudley was sitting at the table and Petunia was making lunch. Harry looked over at Severus to see the man's reaction. He appeared more smug than normal at the sight of his aunt.

"Hello Tuney," he called her that just to make her angry.

"Finally awake I see," she said to Harry, completely ignoring Severus. "Too many lie in's I'd say. It's bad for someone like you."

Harry had a confused look on his face, but just sat at the table across from Dudley.

"Morning Dudley," Harry said.

Severus was listening to Harry and his cousin, interested to hear where the conversation was headed, as he collected the ingredients he would be using for the smoothie. Severus wished he could take credit for the idea, but Alton had stopped by that morning to check in on Harry and had suggested it as a very common food for chemotherapy patients.

"Mornin' Harry," Dudley said, ignoring his mother's stern eyes to the use of his given name. "You missed breakfast earlier."

"I was sleeping," Harry spoke into the table since he'd placed his head onto it. "Besides, I wasn't hungry."

The next several minutes were silent until Severus placed the glass next to Harry. He tapped the teen's shoulder, "Here, give this a try."

"Thanks," Harry met the professor's dark eyes, his green pleading for some relief.

Harry took the first small sip, when Severus felt the familiar burning sensation in his left forearm. He covered it with his right hand.

It's the middle of the day for Merlin's sake!

Harry placed his hand over the professor's that was covering the mark, clearly having heard the small hiss of pain. An internal debate flooded Severus's mind

"Professor, you have to go," Harry said sympathetically. "I'll be fine, I really will this time."

Thinking quickly, Severus took out his wand and summoned Harry's sphere. He said several incantations, then handed it to Harry, "If you need anything, this will now alert the Headmaster."

After sending a quick patronus to Albus and summoning his Death Eater robes and mask, he walked out of the house. Passing the anti-apparation wards, he then left to be at his other master's side.

Severus landed in front of the iron gates of a large manor, fixing his mask firmly in place. Entering the lavish meeting room, which he was sure used to be the formal dining room, he immediately took his spot in the circle relieved to see he was not the last to arrive. Too many times he's had to explain why he was last after enduring the Cruciatus.

He was stealthily watching his fellow death eaters. Even though he'd assured Albus his cover was still intact, getting summoned 3 times in just over a week with no idea what was being planned alarmed him greatly. It appeared like the other members were equally as confused; most of them having left work suddenly to be by Voldemort's side.

The Dark Lord walked confidently into the room. He looked over his servants before taking his seat in the chair on the raised dais in the center of his death eaters.

"My faithful servants," the dark wizard hissed at them. "It is almost time and I must make sure we are ready. I will not have the boy escape me this time."

Severus conspicuously peered around the room yet again, only Crabe and Goyle did not nod at this statement. He did not like to be grouped with those two imbeciles. Not wanting to give away his lack of knowledge, he listened for any hidden messages the Dark Lord wasn't saying between his sentences.

"Wormtail!"

The skittish, lumpy man practically crawled up to him.

"Yes m'lord?" Wormtail kneeled before the snake-like wizard kissing the hem of his robes.

"Update, Wormtail."

Those 2 words echoed across the vast room sending a chill down Severus's spine.

"I've breached the subject and it's in place, m'lord, for T-Thursday," Wormtail was clearly nervous with his update, which did not surprise Severus one bit. That man was nervous over any little thing.

"Thank you Wormtail. I expect no issues along the way, " Voldemort said dismissing the man in front of him.

"Yaxley," the blonde death eater stepped forward and bowed, "the watch?"

"The closest we've been able to go is 3 houses down," Yaxley stated. "From there we can see the older man, his uncle, leaving at 8:15 every morning and returning at 6:30 in the evening. We've tailed him and can confirm he's not in touch with the Order and has little to do with the boy at all.

"The cousin comes and goes as he pleases, but the older woman, his Aunt, is mostly in all day. Potter hasn't left the house once; not even to the gardens. He's likely been given strict orders not to leave and will need to be coaxed out," Yaxley waited after hearing the Dark Lord hiss in anger. It was becoming obvious they wanted Harry to mistakenly leave the wards. In his opinion, this was a foolish plan and had he been taking lead on it they would not place all their eggs in this proverbial basket.

"There's more my Lord," Yaxley continued. "There have been 2 men that have visited the house on several occasions. The first is a registered healer with a private muggle practice. He works mostly out of a local hospital in Surrey and has both magical and muggle patients. He had no known ties to the Order."

"Do you know if he's treating the aunt? Or perhaps our boy is ill?" Voldemort questioned with a small smile.

"We cannot be sure, but he's visited the house at least 4 times in the last week. It seems excessive even for a muggle illness. Plus with Potter not having left the house it's highly probable he's the patient in question," Yaxley explained.

Voldemort was deep in thought over the debacle.

"And the other man?" he asked, tabling the healer thoughts.

"I was able to identify him as Charles Evans," Yaxley said. Severus held back a flinch at his other identity being revealed. They knew it was more than a possibility that he would be seen around the house. "He's a muggle relative to Potter's aunt. He appears to be staying with them for an indeterminate amount of time."

The professor almost reacted; that was death eater language for "I have no idea how long."

"Thank you Yaxley," Voldemort dismissed the Death Eater with a wave of his hand. "Severus."

The Potions Master walked up taking the space where Yaxley had just vacated.

"Yes my Lord?" he asked, kneeling in front of his master.

"Does the Order have any knowledge of Potter being ill?"

"No, my Lord," Severus lied, placing every occlumency shield he could up in his mind. "I'll question more thoroughly at my next meeting with Dumbledore."

"You do that Severus," Voldemort stated, "Any plans to move the boy?"

"None yet sir," Severus didn't need to lie this time. Given whatever plans were being discussed, there was no way they would move him away from the wards. "Dumbledore has not said how long he's to reside at his relatives' house to keep the wards at their strongest. Shall I suggest the need to relocate him prior to the weekend?"

The Dark Lord paced in front of Severus taking into consideration this request.

"That shall not be necessary Severus," came the reply from above the spy's head. "In time, the opportunity will present itself and I feel we will do better to catch the Order and the boy... Off guard."

Severus didn't like the sound of that. It could be that he was a bit paranoid, but the Dark Lord's words sounded like he didn't trust Severus and that could not end well.

"Yes, my Lord," Severus replied. He got up, back to his spot in line and listened to the preparations being made to contain Harry Potter in the dungeons directly below his feet.

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry was sitting up in his bed trying to work on his summer Charms homework, when there was a knock on his door. The sun was setting, leaving a bright orange sky through his window. Snape still hadn't returned and he assumed whoever was knocking was his newly assigned "babysitter" until he was back.

"Come in," his voice strained from the combination of lack of use and sore from the vomiting.

"Hey Harry," he heard his cousin's voice as the door cracked open.

He groaned, "What's up Dudley?"

Dudley apparently took that as an invitation into the room. He walked in, closing the door behind, with a handful of board games.

"I thought maybe you could use a distraction... Since you're stuck in here all day," Dudley placed the games on the ground and held up Monopoly.

Harry closed his book and put the notepad on the desk. He wasn't sure what Dudley's plan was for this, but he was far too tired to care.

"Fine, Monopoly it is," Harry said, sitting up further on the bed, opening the game to start setting it up.

The two boys sat in an awkward silence as they started to play. Harry had not played many board games in his life, but Monopoly he at least recognized, even if Dudley had to explain the rules to him. The concept was strange and he thought that this type of stuff - business things - should probably be taught in the wizarding world.

"Do you play any sports at school?" Dudley asked randomly.

Harry frowned, Quidditch was another thing that was questionable for him. After his ban from Umbridge, he would give just about anything to get back on the pitch, but he doubted he'd play again at least this year.

"Yeah," Harry finally answered, "I play a game called Quidditch. It's kind of like football, but played while flying on a broom." Harry hoped that would deter any further questions.

"What position do you play?" Apparently he'd been wrong.

"Erm, I'm the seeker. It's my job to find a little flying ball before the other team's seeker does," Harry cringed knowing he wasn't explaining it properly.

"Sounds cool," Dudley replied, focusing again on the board game in front of him. "Do you play other magic schools?"

Harry turned his head considering the question he was asked.

"No, we compete against each other really," it sounded odd to say it aloud. "We're separated into different groups... We call them houses... In our first year and the houses compete against each other. We did have a competition against the other schools 2 years ago, but only 1 student from each school competed and they didn't play Quidditch."

Harry really didn't want to get into the triwizard tournament, but deep down it felt good to talk to someone who wasn't part of the school about it all. If Dudley was angry or scared about any of it, he did a good job hiding because to Harry he seemed legitimately interested.

As it started to get dark and the game went on, the two cousins fell into casual and neutral conversations. They talked about everything from classes at their respective schools, Harry's friends, muggle football, and their plans after they're done with school. Harry was surprised to hear Dudley recently decided he wanted to join the British Army after Smeltings. He found it intriguing that they had picked careers so alike for having such different upbringings. This had to be the first time he's ever enjoyed Dudley's company and it hurt to think that this was a glimpse of what life could have been like had he not been a wizard. What life with a brother could have been like; he was envious of Ron all over again.

"Are you hungry?" Dudley asked midway through their game.

"Not really," Harry said looking at the clock with a shiver, "I need to take my evening meds though."

"I can grab them for you," Dudley offered. "You look a little sore."

Harry's eyes narrowed in suspicion. It was one thing for Dudley to want to get to know more about him and another to physically help him out. He was definitely feeling the pain coming back though.

"Thanks, but I have to use the loo anyway."

"D'you feel sick," Dudley said quickly, grabbing for the pail besides the bed.

Harry laughed, "No Dudley... I just have to pee. If you'd like, we can take a little break and then continue the game?"

"I'd like that," Dudley's face lit up at the olive branch Harry was offering and if Harry was honest, he felt the same way even if he was still unsure of it.

~~~~SS~~~~

"...a real dragon?!"

"Erm...hot I guess..."

"...got to be kidding me?!"

Severus could hear bits and pieces of the conversation coming from Harry's room when he finally made it back to Privet Drive. He was nervous when he saw Harry's window still illuminated from the front garden, but it seemed he was having a friendly conversation with his cousin about the first task of the triwizard tournament.

Since everything seemed alright for the time being, he continued down the hall to the guest room. Entering in, he deposited his death eater robes and mask in the bottom of the wardrobe. On the bed was the letter Harry had written to Ron, but went unsent, and now Hedwig was back out hunting. That seemed like days ago instead of only 12 hours. He'd have to send it first thing in the morning.

As usual, he'd gone to update Albus about his summons and due to the nature of his report, an emergency Order meeting was called immediately afterwards. There had been some debate over if Harry should be moved immediately or stay put. Severus couldn't deny that moving him now could foil any plans the Dark Lord had, but it could equally play right into them. In the end, Albus decided that leaving Harry in the wards was the safest place for him and they would increase their watch on the house through Thursday night.

After splashing some water on his face and getting into more comfortable clothes, he went to go check on Harry. He could still hear the boys talking loudly and he wondered what his aunt and uncle must think hearing it too; luckily they seemed to be asleep.

He heard a soft, "come in" after he knocked.

Harry was sitting up in bed already dressed in a pair of emerald green pyjamas, and Dudley was sitting in the armchair also dressed in his bedclothes. He conjured a chair for himself finally admitting that he was exhausted, to which Dudley didn't even flinch.

"Everything ok sir? You were gone a long time," Harry sounded worried and had looked at the clock - 11:34 PM - as he asked.

"I am fine," the potions professor replied, "I had to meet with the headmaster and his group which held me up longer than expected."

"Prof-" Harry was interrupted by Severus's raised hand.

"There's nothing you need to concern yourself with at the moment," he said watching the two boys closely. "How are you feeling? Did you take your evening medicine?"

"I'm fine," Harry was looking away when he'd said it causing Severus not to believe him. "Yes, I took my medicine. I just... couldn't sleep right now, so I've been telling Dudley about dragons."

Severus turned and eyed Dudley. Neither boy appeared to be upset, so he was not going to get involved at this time. Maybe things could finally settle down between them and it would be one more thing to help make Harry feel more comfortable in this house.

"Alton will be here at 9am tomorrow. If you need me-," Severus held up the sphere and placed it back on the desk.

As he was closing the door, he heard Dudley say, "I told you-" but he closed it before he could hear the end wanting to maintain Harry's trust and privacy for however long he could.

While Harry hadn't had much experience with Chemotherapy so far, only three days of it, he absolutely hated the new medication. His body was given no time to recover before the next day's started, which meant that between the pain and vomiting, he'd barely been able to move from his bed both Tuesday and Wednesday, the only times being to visit the loo.

Dudley tried to spend time with Harry whenever he could to help out, however he learned to wait until Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were gone or asleep. Tuesday evening, Uncle Vernon caught Dudley walking into Harry's room and came crashing in as if the young wizard was holding his cousin hostage. His uncle completely pushed past Dursley, ignoring his son's protests, and practically ripped Harry from his bed by his arm. Harry will never know how Dudley managed to run fast enough to get Snape before he was too seriously hurt, but he was extremely grateful for his cousin. He wasn't sure how Snape handled his uncle, but he knew a silencing spell had to be used because it was oddly silent on the other side of his bedroom door. Later that night, Harry found a set of bruises on his arm from his uncle's hand. Snape had said how important it was to report any abnormal bruising because of his lower platelet count, but Harry figured it wasn't abnormal because he knew how he'd received it.

To make the week worse, he knew something was going on with Voldemort. Not only was his scar constantly tingling in pain, but Snape had been in and out of the house all week for both Voldemort and Dumbledore. Two weeks ago, he would have been happy to have the man gone so often, but now he just wanted the little consistency his potions professor provided. Dudley never complained about stepping in to help out when Snape was gone, no matter what time of day, and Harry finally stopped looking at him suspiciously. He was happy to have the distraction because whatever was going on, Snape wasn't giving him an ounce of information.

By the time of his last chemo for the week on Thursday, his whole body was in almost constant pain. It had been an extremely long week and he didn't know how he was going to manage the next two weeks of this. Yesterday, Healer Smithe finally added morphine to his regimen directly after each chemo when the pain started to feel like he was under a constant Cruciatus curse and the tablets were no longer working. It didn't last all day, but it helped get a little relief.

"Harry?"

There was a quiet knock on the other side of the lavatory door. Harry had finally decided a bath was needed regardless of how much his body was hurting. Knowing he'd feel the best before starting the chemo, he'd gotten up early and, grudgingly, with Snape's help made it into the warm bathtub.

He was now standing over the mirror looking at himself in both shock and horror. He knew he'd likely lost some weight, but wasn't prepared for how skeletal he was now. Even with his strange eating habits he thought he had to be eating more now than any previous summer at the Dursleys, but you'd never know it. His cheeks were sunken in and pale, his eyes no longer their bright emerald green instead dull in color, but the biggest change, and one he'd been trying his hardest not to focus on, was the small patches of his messy black hair that were now clearly thinning. Yesterday, when he woke up at some point during the day, he had seen the first strands of hair left on his pillow case. Based on how it looked in the mirror, he'd guess it had started earlier this week, but he hadn't noticed and no one mentioned it to him. That last part made him angry inside. It was like everyone was walking on eggshells around him. He lifted his hand and carded it through his hair, looking down at the strands that were left between his fingers.

"Harry?" he heard Snape call again as the door cracked open.

To avoid getting hit by the door in the small lavatory, Harry sat on the closed loo staring at the strands of hair in his hands.

Snape tentatively walked over and kneeled in front of him, a look of pain on his face.

"It will grow back once this is all over," he said, placing his hand on Harry's right knee.

"I know," the teen said sadly, "doesn't make it any easier to see."

"No, unfortunately it doesn't."

A deafening silence engulfed the room. Harry could hear the beating of his heart in his ears.

"We can shave it," Snape finally broke the silence, "if you'd like. It might make the inevitable feel a bit more comfortable if you have some control over it."

"Maybe," Harry shrugged, "I'll think about it."

Snape squeezed Harry's shoulder. Harry knew this week had been difficult for the professor too. On more than one occasion, he'd woken up to the sight of his professor asleep in the chair next to his bed. Snape probably slept there more than his bed in the guest room.

"Let's get you back. This week is almost over and then you'll be able to recover the next two days."

Once he was back in bed and seriously thinking about falling back to sleep, his door was opened.

"Good morning Harry," Healer Smithe said, walking into Harry's room with the last chemo bag of the week. Harry glared over to the man. "Ready for the last one?"

"Until we start back over again on Sunday," Harry was having a difficult time staying positive lately, but he didn't want to talk to anyone about it. Surely any normal almost-16-year-old would have a difficult time coping and Harry was far from normal before all this started. It felt justifiable to be upset.

"You're doing great Harry," the healer said sympathetically as he hooked up the bag. "I know it's hard, but you're handling it very well."

I doubt he knows what this feels like.

Harry just nodded and closed his eyes again trying to pretend he was anywhere else besides here. Those thoughts lead him back to Hogwarts. He opened his eyes knowing Snape would be sitting in the armchair. Sure enough, the man was sitting there and appeared to be deep in thought as he looked out the window.

"Sir?"

Snape shook his head like he was clearing it out before meeting Harry's eyes.

"Erm," Harry nervously started, "what's going to happen when it's time to go back to school?"

Harry had been holding onto hope that he would get to start classes as normal, but this week had proven otherwise. Now he was just hoping he'd get to go back at all.

"A lot will depend on if remission is reached after this round or if another induction round is required," Snape carefully said. "Either way, with your lower immune system, you'll not be staying in the tower, at least to start. The Headmaster is looking into other arrangements for your housing in the castle."

Harry had assumed so, but hearing it out loud didn't help his mood one bit.

"What about classes?"

"You'll likely have individualized lessons for at least most of the first term," this time the professor gave a small sigh. "The details haven't been worked out yet, but there are regulations in the Hogwarts Code of Conduct for such allowances in the case of disability or illness. I'll make sure the Board of Governors follow it and you get the allowances you're entitled to."

A warm feeling spread through Harry's chest. No one had ever made sure he was being treated fairly and taken care of.

By late afternoon, Harry questioned if something serious was going on. All week, Snape had been in and out of the house mostly for either Order meetings or Death Eater summons, but today the man hadn't left Harry's side. He also seemed to be in high alert looking out the window more often than was necessary. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't left much capacity to think about what that was before he plummeted back into chemotherapy hell.

When evening rolled around Harry knew something was up, Snape wouldn't let Harry leave the room, even to go to the loo to sick up, which the young wizard always preferred to the pail. He eventually refused to let anyone into the room, including Dudley who up until this point had been Snape's unofficial assistant. Snape left only to get a smoothie for Harry's dinner and a bag of his medications and then said neither of them were leaving the room for the remainder of the night. Harry tried not to think about what would happen if he needed to pee.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus was relieved when Harry eventually fell asleep. It was difficult for the teen to get any kind of consistent rest, so it was a relief whenever he could sleep. When the sun set, he strategically left the lights out to prevent any potential watch guards from easily seeing inside. This left the only light in the room coming from the street lights through the window. The spy was planning to stay up as much as possible throughout the night so he could be ready should anything arise. Tonight was the night the Dark Lord had discussed with them all week and he wasn't willing to risk a surprise attack while he was asleep.

When Harry woke up again the clock read 12:24 AM, which was far less sleep than Severus would have hoped for him. He could hear the painful breaths coming from Harry's bed; they still had a long night ahead of them.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on? And don't say nothing, I can clearly see there's something wrong," Harry accused with less patience than normal.

"It's nothing you need to be concerned with right now," Severus replied knowing full well he was lying. "How are you feeling?"

Harry was silent for so long, Severus thought maybe he had fallen back asleep. Finally he saw the teen reach for the lamp on the desk to get some light. Severus quickly grabbed him by the hand.

"Don't... turn on the light," Snape warned in a low voice.

"Fine. I'm guessing you can't tell me why either, but I'm supposed to believe nothing is going on."

"You didn't answer me," the professor tried again ignoring Harry's accusation, "how are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling tired of people asking me that," Harry mumbled angrily, "I'm feeling tired of being locked in my room, and I'm feeling tired of being sick for days on end."

There it is. Severus thought to himself.

As if on cue, he heard some rustling and then Harry vomiting, luckily into the pail. He sat down on the bed, his insides knotted up, and pressed his hand against Harry's lower back. How much more could this young man endure? With any luck, he could at least prevent any attempts to lure the Boy-Who-Lived away from the protective wards tonight.

When the dry heaves were long gone, they both sat up against the pillows, side by side yet again. Harry slowly leaned over to rest against Severus's left side in complete exhaustion, both physically and mentally. After a second's hesitation, Severus lifted his arm and draped it across the back of Harry's shoulders. If anyone who didn't know the two of them walked in, it would look as if this was completely natural. Harry's shaky breath started to even out.

"Can I ask you a question professor?" He sounded completely defeated.

"Of course," Severus had assumed the young wizard was sleeping otherwise he wouldn't be sitting in this position.

"Why?" Harry's voice gave away the pleading behind the question.

The Potions Master thought hard, but wasn't following where Gryffindor was going with the question, "I don't understand."

"You've been different," Harry closed his eyes. "There have been a bunch of little things I've noticed. Even back at school, you acted differently."

Severus could blame it on lack of sleep, though he's used to running off little sleep this was crossing a line even for him; he could blame it on the pleading voice of the young man who has lived through more than any grown adult ever should; he could even claim he wanted to just stop the need to keep up the exhausting charade. In the end though, he knew it was none of that... in the end he wanted to tell Harry the truth to try to ease his own suffering; he wanted his child back and he couldn't keep it hidden any longer.

"That's because I am different," he finally said after what felt like an eternity.

Harry sat up suddenly, likely thoughts of polyjuice and Confundus Charms going through his head.

"Who are you?" The panic was thick in Harry's voice.

In one swift movement, the fastest he'd moved in a week, Harry grabbed his holly wand off the desk and turned on the lamp. Severus didn't need Legilimency to see the memory flash in teen's mind; when the professor first showed up in the bathroom during the nosebleed incident, did Harry verify his identity?

Severus didn't pull his wand to try and ease Harry's despair. He thought back through this reality's memories to find something only the two of them would know. It wasn't nearly as easy as it would have been back in his old reality.

"Your remedial potions lessons were a cover up for occlumency training," he finally settled on.

Harry was thinking back if anyone else would have known about their lessons. Hermione and Ron knew, which brought about another panic attack. What if something happened to them?

Against his better judgement, Harry closed his eyes and asked, "What happened at the last lesson?"

Severus took a deep breath to hold back anger, no idea where the anger was stemming from inside him. Yes, that was one of his worst memories, but it was also one he'd discussed at length with his Harry.

"You looked into my pensieve. The scene you saw was from my 5th year, after my defense O.W.L. when your father and his friends hexed me by the lake," he slowed down recognizing he was speaking almost too fast to sound in control of the situation. "It was the day I called your mother... I called Lily a... mudblood. I threw a jar of cockroaches at you afterwards."

Harry opened his eyes, "What is going on then?"

"I don't know how to explain it to you and even if I did, you likely wouldn't believe it," Severus answered honestly.

"Try me," the boy in front of him challenged, "I've seen a lot of strange things happen."

Severus contemplated what and how much to tell. He didn't want to scare Harry away from whatever little trust they've managed to build up to this point.

"I'm waiting," Harry impatiently said holding his wand back up.

"Last month I woke up with memories of events that no longer happened," Severus made sure to maintain eye contact so Harry would not think he was lying. "I woke up as a different version of myself, leading a very different life than when I went to sleep the night prior."

Harry creased his eyebrows in confusion. Things like what was being described don't exist; people don't just wake up in a new life.

"How did that happen?"

"In this other life something devastating occurred," he carefully explained, "and the Albus Dumbledore there gave me the chance to fix it. I shouldn't have done it, but in a moment of weakness I took the opportunity he presented and woke up here."

That was the simplest way to explain the convoluted event.

"That's not possible," Harry was staring almost through him.

Taking out his wand, Severus created a small ball of light that he set to float between them.

"Harry, we need to turn off the lights," he explained peering over to the window. "We can absolutely continue this conversation, but not like this."

Harry nodded, reached over to the lamp and aggressively clicked off the light.

"So, I'm just supposed to believe that you're from some other time or something?"

"I don't think physically," Severus thought back to the post-cruciatus shaking when he first woke up in this reality. No, physically he was the same here. "It's more like I lived a previous life, woke up in this one, but have memories from both."

"That sounds confusing," Harry said sarcastically, but willing to play along for the time being. "Did it work? Did whatever you wanted to change actually change?"

This time, Severus couldn't maintain eye contact and peered out the window.

"Technically yes," he answered; Harry had chosen the different treatment option. "How it will all play out, I'm yet to know."

"Assuming I believe you, which is a stretch, did you ever think that maybe things are just fate and you shouldn't mess with them?"

"Like using a time turner to save-" Severus couldn't shut his mouth fast enough; he wasn't supposed to know that event. Harry would just assume he didn't want to talk about his Godfather after their last conversation, but it was too close for comfort.

"Finally figured that one out did you? That was different," Harry sneered.

"It was very much the same thing."

Professor and student sat in silence with the small ball of light flickering between them. Neither of them knew where to go from here.

"Was Voldemort still there? In your other life? I'd love pointers on how to finally kill off the bastard."

"Language," Severus reprimanded, "and no the Dark Lord hadn't yet returned."

He could see a look of pain pass through the Gryffindor's eyes; imagining a life without the threat of the darkest wizard hanging over him.

"So you weren't a spy there?"

Severus knew the child was curious, which meant he believed some part of what the professor was saying, but he was swimming too close to a line he shouldn't cross.

"I was," he cautiously explained. "Everything from the first war happened as it did here, the Dark Lord just hadn't been able to get his body back."

"Then my name wasn't called out of the Goblet of Fire?"

Severus gave a small chuckle, "Oh no, it definitely was pulled from that damn goblet, but you didn't compete after the first task."

Harry's eyes almost bulged right out of his head. "How did I get out of that?!"

"A well sought after loophole." Severus was quite proud of himself for that one, if only he'd thought about it early enough so Harry hadn't needed to fight the dragon.

"Well, that all sounds like an upgrade to me, can't imagine why you'd want to come here," it came out a little to whiney, but he didn't care.

"First, I didn't get to choose where I ended up," Severus felt ridiculous explaining it all, "second, I lost something that was more important than the Dark Lord returning."

Harry couldn't miss the grief that filled the response. What would be worth having Voldemort back? His friends, yes. His parents, definitely. But his professor didn't have friends and he didn't want to think of the man's parents, so what did he have to lose?

"So, you think that gave you the right to screw over my life to fix yours?"

How could Severus argue against that? From this Harry's point of view, that's exactly what it looked like. The clock read 2:43 AM, still a while until dawn; when he could assume that whatever lure Voldemort was planning hadn't happened as expected.

"So what did you lose?" He heard a small, weak voice ask; Harry's steam having settled greatly.

"Not what... whom."

That was something Harry was very familiar with, he'd lost a lot of people in his young life. So instead of jumping in, he sat back and quietly waited for his professor to continue.

"My son," Severus finally said almost in a trance, "from the same cancer you have."

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry sat in silence. A soft rain had started and he listened to the hypnotic drizzle hitting the roof above his head. He remembered the conversation they'd had about the boy with cancer Snape had known. He was from this other life. He'd tried the magical treatment. He died.

What are the odds?

Cancer is rare in the wizarding world; Healer Smithe explained it to him at that first appointment. Harry was confused, something was missing in this story. Something was definitely off about it, but he couldn't think straight right now.

"It's the boy you were talking about last week," he didn't expect an answer, but Snape nodded anyway. "But where is he now? In this life?"

He didn't need the light back on to see the cold stare from Snape's obsidian eyes. The man was deeply bothered by that question. If he was supposed to change something, then where was this boy? Maybe in this life, the boy just never existed. He'd be bloody angry if he'd risked changing realities only to find out what you wanted to fix was gone. In the back of his mind he was putting together connections without consciously realizing it.

"How old was he?" He decided to change tactics; his need for information greater than his self-preservation. Nothing new there.

"Your age when he was diagnosed and he died less than a year later. He was just shy of 17," Snape said far away in a memory and Harry felt like an intruder listening to the man, "We were going to spend the summer at the beach because he absolutely loved the sea more than anywhere else. It was going to be a celebration of both his cancer remission and coming of age. I even had a new pocket watch picked out for him for his birthday.

"I would have given anything to switch places with him... I wish I would have known how quickly those 4 years would go by, how much could happen in that short time."

"Um, sir? Why only 4 years?" Now Harry was thoroughly confused.

Snape looked at Harry like he hadn't expected him to be sitting there, "I guess it was technically 5 years since he lived with me for almost a year before everything was official."

There was a pregnant pause and noticing Harry's still confused look Snape added, "He was adopted... on the 5th of March, 1993... you were twelve."

Harry unceremoniously fell straight off the bed and flat on his face with a loud umpf.

What did he just say?!

When he stood up, Snape was cradling his head in his hands. Harry thought something had to be seriously wrong for the man to look so vulnerable.

"No that can't be... Did you say-" Harry started but was interrupted a second later.

"Yes."

With that one word his world came crashing down. It was almost as bad as hearing Leukemia for the first time. He started trembling as he sat back onto his bed. This couldn't be right. In what world would he allow Snape to adopt him? The man who hates him and has made his last 5 years at school a living hell.

"Wait," Harry thought of something, "you said your... Erm, I... um, was almost 17. That's not possible."

Snape lifted his head to meet Harry's eyes and the teen couldn't help thinking yet again how exhausted he appeared. This man looked like he had lived two different lifetimes; and suddenly all the little things started to connect in his mind.

"It was 1997 in my old reality; mid-May to be exact."

"And we were... I mean, I was..." He couldn't bring himself to say it even if he had no choice but to believe it. There was no other explanation for why Snape - the acerbic Potions Professor Severus Snape - would have done everything he had these last couple of weeks otherwise.

This time, Snape didn't have to confirm it. His face said enough. In wherever Snape had come from, he had been Snape's son.

"This is insane you know," Harry managed to yell in a whisper. "So you knew all along? About the cancer?"

The professor took another deep breath. Harry saw him peek at the clock, 3:26 AM; why did it always seem like these conversations always happened in the middle of the night?

"I did," Snape admitted. "Which is why I was so insistent you see a healer."

Great, now he's lecturing me.

How could this have happened? Why was it always him that had these rare occurrences - surviving the killing curse, speaking parseltongue, getting muggle cancer, why not add being part of a time/reality change with Snape? What did it really matter anyway; they were in this life where he hated Snape.

But that's not really true anymore, is it?

He thought back to the last couple of weeks again. Yes, he could honestly say he didn't hate Snape anymore. Though he didn't really like him that much either at the moment; he felt deeply betrayed by the man. The professor had played him this whole time, waiting for the right time to...

All of a sudden a burning question sprang to his mind.

"Did I live with the Dursleys?" he blurted out as if the answer were the air he needed to breathe. "You said everything was the same in the first wizarding war and obviously my parents died otherwise you wouldn't have been able to... you know... so then did I live with the Dursleys?"

Snape was struggling with the answer, which told Harry everything he needed to know. If he'd been with Snape since before 2nd year, then he had likely been removed from the Dursley's care.

"What about the blood wards? Dumbledore said I have to live here, think of it as my home, because of blood protection from my mum. How did you get around that?" His stomach was knotted up like it was tied around a rock; sitting there in the middle of his core waiting to drag him down.

"He simply wasn't given a choice in the matter. I was not about to let you come back here to these people." In the dim light, Harry could see a look of disgust on Snape's face as he said the last two words. So he knew back there and he knows now. And just like that the rock in his stomach plummeted and anger filled him up instead.

Actually, to say Harry was angry would be an understatement, he was furious. The way his mind oversimplified it, because he happened to live in the world with the arsehole version of Snape, he was left to live with his neglectful relatives and battle Voldemort time and time again. He could feel the start of tears creeping up from the edges of his eyes. He swiped them away before Snape could see. Was it possible for someone to grieve a life they'd never lived in?

"Get out" Harry said, his voice bitter and full of hurt. "I don't want you in this house anymore. I don't want you anywhere near me anymore."

"Harry-" Snape tried to say and Harry ignored the grief the professor couldn't hide.

"No!" Harry yelled picking up the sphere he used to call Snape when he was sick and threw it at his bedroom door. "Get. Out. Now!"

Snape reluctantly stood up, and Harry couldn't look the man in the eyes. How could he feel so empty and numb, but full of raw emotion at the same time?

"As you wish," the Potions Master said, opening the door to leave. He looked back over his shoulder before he left and added, "Someone from the Order will be here tomorrow to stay with you."

Just like that, the door closed and Harry was once again truly alone. This time he didn't stop the tears from falling.

After staying up until the sun started to rise, Harry slept until well after lunchtime. He missed his morning medications and both breakfast and lunch. He woke up with a migraine, nauseous, and pain throughout his body that radiated down into his bones. Looking through his window, the rain that started early that morning hadn't stopped. In fact, it was now raining so hard he could only guess it would continue to rain the rest of the day. He thought about just staying in bed, but in the end his bladder won out and he got up to use the loo.

He couldn't see anyone from the hallway, but he could hear Aunt Petunia mumbling gleefully in her bedroom. The door to the guest room was closed and a wave of sadness washed through Harry. He couldn't muster the courage to see if Snape was still there.

Some Gryffindor I am.

Instead, he continued to the next door into the lavatory. He could use a shower, but his body was in too much pain to even attempt one. After brushing his teeth and splashing some water on his face, he grabbed his medicine bottles trying to remember which he was supposed to take, counting as he pulled them out - steroid, antibiotic, antiviral, pain reliever, vitamin, antiemetic. Using the glass next to the sink, he filled it and took each one carefully.

Next he needed to try to eat something since he couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. He walked slowly down the stairs, a little embarrassed to still be in the pyjamas from yesterday, and was relieved to see only Dudley in the sitting room watching the telly.

"Morning Harry," Dudley called to him, "or I guess afternoon."

Harry nodded and passed him into the kitchen. Looking through the refrigerator, nothing seemed appetizing so he settled on a banana from the counter. He then unceremoniously plopped himself into a chair at the table.

"Everything ok?" Dudley asked sitting down across from Harry.

"Why?"

His cousin was nervously wringing his hands, "Your professor left in a hurry this morning."

Harry's heart plummeted to his stomach. Of course, for the first time ever Snape actually listened to him and left.

"Well he probably won't be around here anymore." When he saw Dudley's skeptical look he added, "Don't worry, someone else will be coming to stay in his place. Was he angry?"

"Yeah, he seemed it. Sorry."

Instead of answering, he just laid his head on the table willing it to stop aching. He could hear his aunt's shrilling voice talking as she was coming down the stairs; her high heeled shoes click-clacking with each step.

"Oh Diddy! He did it!"

Her voice grew louder when she entered the kitchen. Harry groaned from his headache pounding with her voice.

"He got the Ryan account!"

That was the client Uncle Vernon had been working on closing for the last two weeks. At least his uncle couldn't blame a single thing on Harry and his "freakiness", which was the only good thing about Uncle Vernon doing well at work - Harry was only blamed for the bad stuff that happened.

"We're going out to celebrate with them tonight," she continued completely ignoring Harry. "Will you be ok here? Maybe you can ask Piers to come over? I'll order some pizzas."

Dudley peered over at his cousin, "Pizza sounds great Mum, but I think I'll just hang out alone tonight."

"Anything you want my baby."

Harry snorted from the table; he couldn't keep that one in.

"Enough from you," she spat at him. Harry didn't even have the energy to open his eyes at her. "You just stay in your room where you belong."

"Not a problem there Aunt Petunia."

Once his aunt left to go buy a new dress - because all of hers just wouldn't do - Dudley placed his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Don't worry Harry, I'll hang out with you tonight."

"Thanks." Harry lifted his head and went back up to his room.

Harry was surprised that no one had come to replace Snape at the house. He kept expecting Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, or even Mad-Eye Moody to knock and announce themselves as his new chemo-babysitter. He still hadn't gained the courage to go into the guest room; seeing it cleared out would only cause more pain inside of him. He managed to convince himself the only reason he cared that Snape was gone was because without another wizard in the house, how long would his relatives continue to leave him be?

He heard Uncle Vernon get home at half past six that evening, as usual, his normal grumbling replaced with elated banter about his latest deal. Harry was relieved when the man didn't even try to open his door. Less than an hour later, he heard the car driving away to take his aunt and uncle to celebrate the deal with the Ryan's. Harry watched the car drive off and continued to watch the rain pouring down thinking that it was perfect weather to match his miserable mood.

As promised, Dudley came into his room shortly after Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia departed, which at this point had almost become their routine. This time, his cousin also brought in the telly from his bedroom along with the VCR and a handful of movies. He left briefly and came back with a smoothie Harry knew had to be freshly made.

"Want some pizza too? I can bring you a plate from downstairs," Dudley asked sitting in the chair at the desk.

"No, s'ok. Thanks for this."

"I thought we could watch a movie. It might give you something else to focus on then homework and... well, everything that's going on," while Dudley was getting more comfortable with Harry's illness, but he didn't really like talking about it out loud.

"Sounds good Dudley. You pick; there's no movies in the wizarding world," Harry gestured to the pile of movies on the desk.

"Seriously?!" Harry laughed for a brief second as his cousin continued, "How about Shawshank Redemption? Mum doesn't like me watching it, which of course makes it one my favorites."

He handed the movie case to Harry who read through the back. He normally wasn't allowed to watch anything, regardless of the content, but the fact that Aunt Petunia didn't like it was a good enough reason for him to want to see it.

"That's perfect," Harry said leaning back against his pillows when the movie started.

Every so often, the room would flash with lightning and a little while later he'd hear the crashing of thunder. As a kid, Harry always loved thunderstorms and he'd never admit it, but those were the times he loved laying in his cupboard. Everything sounded distant from the middle of the house, so he would imagine the clouds rolling in a field with thunder in the background and it would almost instantly relax him. Tonight though, laying on the bed next to the window, the sound was anything but relaxing.

It was almost 11pm when the movie ended, but Harry had barely been able to pay attention. Not only was he sure he'd fallen asleep at least once in the middle, his scar had a constant aching feel. Every so often, the pain would get bad enough that he would press it against the cold window just to help get some relief.

"Why does your scar hurt," Dudley had asked him when he'd had a spike of pain so bad they had to pause the movie.

"Remember that dark wizard I told you about? Sometimes I can feel when he's angry or happy...it comes through this," he pointed to the scar.

"So... He's angry now?"

"Something like that," was all Harry replied and then they went back to finish the movie in almost silence.

"Shouldn't your parents be home by now?" Harry asked. The last thing he needed today was to be accused of stealing the telly from Dudley's room by Uncle Vernon.

"They never mentioned when they'd be home. Probably doing some good celebrating."

Harry's breathing rapidly increased as he had a flashback to the conversation with Snape the night before -

We were going to spend the summer at the beach because he absolutely loved the sea more than anywhere else. It was going to be a celebration of both his cancer remission and coming of age. I even had a new pocket watch picked out for him for his birthday.

He'd never been to a beach. The Dursley's never took him when they'd go on holiday in the summer. Apparently not only had Snape taken him in this other life, but he knew the other Harry loved the sea.

I bet I'd love it too. If the cancer doesn't...

No he wouldn't go there, but it was getting harder to stay positive today about beating the cancer and Voldemort. It was like finding out about this other, better life had sucked everything from him, much like a dementor.

Dudley was still talking, but Harry hadn't heard a word the other boy said or even noticed he was talking until he stopped mid sentence.

"Everything ok Dudley?"

Dudley shook his head, "I thought I heard something."

Harry sat still listening for anything that might sound out of place.

"Maybe thunder?" He suggested having heard a small booming noise from his window...

Or was it a cracking noise?

He tried to look outside the window, but couldn't see a thing because of the heavy rain pouring down.

Before either boy could move, the window burst open spraying glass over Harry's face and arms once he'd moved them to block. Rain whipped into the room through the broken window. Instinct took over and Harry reached for his wand beside him.

"Go!" He yelled at his cousin, "stay in your room!"

The house started trembling as what had to be close to two dozen flashes of colored lights were steaming in through the broken window hitting the ceiling and walls trying to connect with one of the teenagers in the room. Harry ducked Dudley down as chunks started to fall upon them. At this rate, it wouldn't be long before it collapsed down completely. Harry quickly wondered if that was how they planned to get through the wards, by knocking the house down. He didn't have time to think about that though.

"We have to get out of here!" He yelled towards Dudley who was being much calmer than Harry would have ever expected.

"C'mon," Dudley grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him across the room to the door.

As Harry was crawling across the floor trying to avoid the curses and hexes coming through the window, a large beam came crashing down onto him. His wand was knocked out of his hand.

"Arrrrggg," he screamed in agony, his legs now pinned under the ceiling beam. Dudley's grasp was pulled away from his arm.

He searched around for his wand only finding the sphere he threw after his argument with Snape. He squeezed it tightly willing the man to know how desperately he was needed back on Privet Drive. His heart broke when nothing happened... No light was emitted from the sphere as it had when he previously used it.

"Dudley, go to your room and hide! It's me they're after. If you're quiet, they won't even look for you," the young wizard lied. They'd kill Dudley the first chance they got.

To Dudley's credit, he argued that he didn't want to leave Harry alone. Only after reassuring his cousin that his Headmaster would know the moment the wards had fallen and would be here any second did Dudley leave.

Harry could hear his heart beating in his ears louder than the crashing coming from around the room and outside. There was still rain coming in from the window and now through the ceiling above his head, soaking him from head to toe. He was shivering, but strangely didn't feel cold at all.

He laid his head down trying to hide beneath the debris pinning him to the floor and could hear quick steps coming from the floor below him. The Death Eaters made it inside the house. If the Order didn't get here soon, it was only a matter of time before they'd get to him. Where was the watch that was supposed to be outside his home? Silently, he hoped no one was hurt when the attack started.

The sound of thick footsteps climbing the stairs could be heard and he'd never tell a soul that he closed his eyes in fear of being discovered. Then, what sounded like a duel was happening outside his door. Someone was out there for him!

Loud blasts could be heard from all around him - outside his window, on the other side of his door, from the floor beneath him. With each loud blast, the walls and ceiling would start to crumble some more.

Then one big BOOM, an explosion from the bathroom that shared a wall with his bedroom, opened the wall allowing the Death Eater access to his bedroom. It also was the last piece supporting the ceiling above him and the rest of the ceiling fell into the room completely covering Harry.

He couldn't hear anything; not any of the battle that was going around the room, not his heart beating, not his labored breathing. His glasses were broken, leaving his vision blurry in one eye. He could only see reflections of red, green, orange, and yellow on the wall he was facing. His body felt broken and he would give anything for it to stop.

He couldn't tell how much time had elapsed, but his adrenaline was running out and he just wanted to go to sleep. The last thoughts he had before the black seeped in around him was that he hoped someone would be able to find him under everything.

~~~~SS~~~~

This was his fault; he shouldn't have left without notifying the Order. He was summoned first thing that morning and spent the day at the Dark Lord's side making what he now knew were last minute arrangements for the attack and then working on menial tasks. He'd have to answer to the Order for his lack of contact, something he was not looking forward to doing.

Severus had been up for over 2 days straight and he wasn't about to leave until they found Harry. The house had been practically demolished by the death eater attack. Albus was outside reinforcing the house so it didn't completely collapse before they could get Harry out and setting up new wards so they could work without any further attacks.

"Harry." Severus called walking into the bedroom he was all too familiar with. It looked nothing like the room he'd been in the previous night. "Damnit!"

"Severus," he turned to find Lupin standing in the doorway. His eyes went wide as he looked at what was left of the room. "What happened?"

"I don't have time to go through it all. Who knows how long this house will stay up."

"Is he in here?"

"Dolohov never made it in and the idiot who blew up the wall blew up half of his body in the process, so he has to be here. No one else could have gotten to him."

The two wizards started levitating pieces of furniture, drywall, and wooden beams out of the way. Two small fires were immediately put out with a quick Aguamenti.

"What are the odds he survived this?" Lupin asked in a dark tone that made Severus nervous and angry at the same time.

"He's stronger than you'd think," Severus replied as Albus came into view.

"Kingley's finishing up the wards and we've done the best we could on the structure," the headmaster explained, holding his illuminated wand out in front of him. "In any case, we should work fast."

They were working mostly in silence when another person came to the door.

"We found his cousin," Tonks said, her hair now a fiery red. "He's in the room across from this one. Alive, but totally knocked out. Can't tell if it's from a stray hex or debris. Can we get some help moving him?"

Lupin nodded and walked out of the room to assist. It was strange for Severus to see them separately as in his other reality, they had already been a couple for some time at this point and got married the fall before Harry had died.

"The bed was over there," Severus said pointing towards the window that had been repaired. They started carefully vanishing debris away, mindful that at any moment removing the wrong piece in the wrong order could be disastrous.

"Severus," the older wizard said, "I don't doubt that had you been in a position to alert us of the attack, you would have."

"I should have known something was wrong when nothing happened yesterday," the Potions Master explained, angry with himself. "I was going to report into you, but I was summoned this morning."

"Where does this leave you now?"

He looked over at the man that was the closest thing he ever had to a father, Severus hated to disappoint him.

He shook his head, "I duelled Dolohov in front of Harry's bedroom. There's no good way to recover from that...it leaves me useless to the Order now."

Albus paused, blue eyes full of empathy meeting angry black ones.

"In time, you'll see your true worth my boy. Just have some patience."

Severus didn't believe the old wizard one bit. He finally made it into the room and saw the sphere roll out from a pile of debris. Harry had to physically squeeze it to activate, so he had to be close.

"I found something!" He called to the headmaster, holding up the sphere. "Harry!"

He continued to call out to the missing teen, worry filling his voice when each call went unanswered.

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry heard someone calling to him; or calling for him. It sounded like he was at the bottom of a lake and the person calling was outside of it. He heard his name, but couldn't make out anything else from the muffled words. He wanted to call out to whoever it was looking for him. They sounded scared or angry. On second thought, maybe he wanted to stay hidden. He could feel something above him shifting and a white light was shining in from somewhere.

"He's here!"

Harry felt a wave of relief pass through him. He tried to call out but it was only a whisper. His throat was dry and coated with dust and his chest hurt every time he drew in a breath.

I must be dying was the only thought crowding his mind. He would never get to apologize to Snape for what he'd said, say goodbye to his friends, or have a serious conversation with Remus over his guilt for killing Sirius. He always figured Voldemort would eventually kill him at some point; however this wasn't how he'd thought it would go.

The young Gryffindor was still conscious when finally his face was freed from the rubble. His vision was still too blurry to make out any details around him. All he saw was a blurry figure with long dark hair. Instantly, he felt calmer than he'd been all day. Maybe there was still hope he'd get out alive.

"...hear me?"

Harry shook his head back and forth. Everytime this person moved the pieces from the ceiling covering him, a sharp pain raced through his body so intense he saw white throughout his vision.

"Harry!"

There it was yelling at him again. This wasn't his fault, he didn't blow up the house. His uncle was going to be furious with him. Maybe he should have run away before they got home.

"Harry! Can you hear me?"

He furrowed his brows. "Yes," he managed to say, but wasn't sure it would be loud enough to hear.

"We're going to get you out," the voice said in a less panicked tone.

I guess I was loud enough after all.

"Just stay still while we get the rest of your free. We have some more help coming"

Definitely not going anywhere.

"Severus," the Headmaster said, "keep him talking."

By now, he was aware of at least three other bodies around him working on getting him out. His chest was now free, but after sitting in the rain on the flooded floor, he was convulsively shivering. The people around him must have noticed because a warm cloak was laid over him. He instantly relaxed, feeling it's warmth spread throughout him to his core as only a good heating charm can do, and it had a distinctly familiar smell of spices; maybe cloves?

"Is that better Harry?" The voice, Harry finally figured out had to belong to Snape, asked him.

" Y-y-es," he stuttered wondering why he was still shaking if he was no longer cold. "M'tired."

"I need you to stay awake Harry," Snape was kneeling on the side of Harry's head. Every so often he would look down towards Harry's lower body and then Harry would feel pain as the remnants were being moved. "You'll get plenty of time for that once we get you to Hogwarts."

"M'sorry s-sir," Harry mumbled.

"We needn't discuss that now."

"I shouldn't've told you t'leave," he wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to stay awake. "I wanna hear more 'bout all that... Y'know."

Even if his glasses weren't broken, he couldn't focus enough to see Snape's reaction. What he did hear was another familiar voice that filled him with calm.

"How're doing Harry?," the kind voice of Healer Smithe was next to his ear.

"Alive," it wasn't funny but Harry didn't care at the moment.

"Celebrate the little things, that's what I always say," the healer joked. "We've almost got you cleared out of there and once we get you back to Hogwarts you'll start feeling loads better."

Harry doubted that, but nodded anyway.

"I need to run a diagnostic scan," he continued. "It's to see if there's anything that needs to be fixed immediately before we can move you."

"Like what?" Harry asked not sure he wanted the answer. If he was in this much pain, he could only imagine what was causing it.

"I'm sure it's nothing." Harry didn't miss the deflection of his question.

" 'k... do what you need to do." He felt the tingle of the diagnostic spell go through him. "Anything exciting?"

"You're doing great," Snape answered this time and again Harry didn't miss the deflection of his question.

Healer Smithe and Snape were standing, turned away from Harry, likely discussing his condition. He was very tired of getting into these situations.

"Professor?" Harry asked as he felt a significant amount of weight lift off his waist. "I was thinking about what you said yesterday... morning," he added at the last second.

Snape kneeled back down, "Which part?"

"I think I want to just shave my head. Think it'll be cold?" He hadn't really put too much thought beyond their discussion yesterday morning, but he figured it didn't really matter in the long run.

"I'll get you some hats or beanies, but I think that's a smart idea," Snape placed his hand on Harry's shoulder trying to ignore the wince of pain the young teen gave.

"How bad is it?" Harry gestured over his body. "You never sugar coat anything, so don't start now."

"To use your words, you're alive and right now that's all that matters."

Harry didn't like how that sounded. He heard someone yell from the other side of the ceiling debris by his feet.

"Harry," Snape said looking him intently into his green eyes, "they're getting ready to move the last piece. I need you to listen carefully... A lot of things will be happening at once. The beam is likely holding in some of the bleeding which will start again once that beam is lifted. Understand?"

Harry nodded that he understood. He worried his bottom lip holding back his fear when Healer Smithe placed a solid muggle wrap around his neck, telling him it was to protect him without using magic when they could finally move him.

"Shacklebolt, Lupin, and Professor Dumbledore will be lifting the last beam; as soon as it's safely off of you, Healer Smithe will wrap the damage and then I'll port key you straight to the hospital wing at Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey is already waiting for us. All I need you to do is try your best to stay awake," Snape said all that with an authoritative voice that not only had Harry nodding again, but received verbal confirmation from all the others involved around him.

"On the count of three," Kingsley Shacklebolt called out. "One... Two... Three."

Just like Snape described, everything happened at once. Harry felt a tingling pain down his legs which he hadn't realized had been completely numb before, Healer Smithe practically crawled under the wooden beam with with rolls of muggle cotton wrap and started feverishly wrapping his right leg, and Harry did his part with staying awake although he'd much prefer sleeping to avoid the pain. He couldn't hold back his yell and tears when it felt like he was literally getting ripped in half.

He could feel Snape lift his upper body onto his lap and a cold sweat was running down his forehead. Harry reached out and Snape grabbed his hand as the teenager squeezed down as hard as he could.

"They're almost done Harry," Snape said quietly into Harry's ear. "You're doing great, but if you fall asleep you'll be in detention every day for the first month of term."

Harry tried to chuckle, but it was more of a groan, "Oh sure, those are always the worst cauldrons to clean."

"Exactly. Don't fall asleep."

It felt like an eternity before he heard Healer Smithe say he was ready to be moved. He started to tremble all over his body even while wrapped in the charmed cloak. This was from a combination of fear and pain, not the cold.

"It's ok Harry," Healer Smithe said, "Severus will get you to Hogwarts. I'm heading there now to get Poppy ready."

Harry couldn't say a word even if his life depended on it, so stayed silent watching his healer port key back to his school.

"Ready?" Snape asked. "Don't worry about staying awake for the port key, I've got you and when you wake up, you'll be feeling much better."

Harry thought those were the best words he'd ever heard, especially coming from Snape. He closed his eyes as a crushed water bottle was placed in his left hand and he felt the familiar hook behind his navel.

~~~~AU SS~~~

Severus woke up that morning far earlier than he needed to and blamed it on wanting to be as prepared as possible, but in reality he was simply too nervous to sleep. They filed all the right paperwork, went through over half a dozen interviews - together, separate, friends and colleagues, anyone the ministry thought they could get away with asking. The Ministry of Magic Department of Children's Services had stopped in unannounced more times than he thought possible; luckily he had completed the renovations at Spinner's End early in the summer holiday - otherwise there was no way he would have allowed Harry to stay there in the first place, even before the thoughts of adoption were in his head.

They asked him about his career plans, examined his all financial statements, questioned him every which way on why he wanted to adopt the Boy-Who-Lived, and more specifically why they should allow a "supposedly-former" Death Eater to adopt the Boy-Who-Lived. He had no idea what they asked Harry in his private interviews because he respected his, hopefully, future son's privacy and never asked. All that mattered was that after all the grueling work, he was able to circle the 5th of March on his calendar as the day it would all be worth it and that day had finally come.

He was dressed in a new set of dress robes, appropriately colored black and white and had bought Harry a new set for the occasion. Even though it was a weekday, he had Harry sleep in his room in their dungeon quarters the previous night so the 12-year old had plenty of time to get ready that morning. Both of them had been excused from classes for the day. Severus walked into the kitchen to a table already set for breakfast with a wide assortment of foods and a note next to it all saying:

Best of luck today Severus and Harry.

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore

Severus shook his head, but silently thanked his mentor for thinking ahead about such a small detail. He heard Harry's door open, announcing the young Gryffindor awake, and then the start of the shower proving that he was indeed getting ready. Severus poured himself a cup of tea while helping himself to some porridge and fruit from the center of the all the food.

"Morning Severus," Harry called as he entered the room still trying to tame his black, wild, damp hair, wearing his new set of navy dress robes.

"Good morning," the professor greeted pouring Harry a glass of pumpkin juice. "Have some breakfast; the Headmaster arranged it."

Harry picked up the card, read it quickly, then started making up a plate with eggs, bacon, and buttered toast. When the small boy first lived with Severus, he was underweight even after a year of Hogwarts large and balanced meals. It was a constant battle of how much he should be eating and even now, when Harry was at a much more acceptable weight for his height and age, he sometimes needed prompting to eat.

"I promise I will only ask you this one more time, though I'm sure you'll get it much more throughout the day," Severus said calmly, "are you sure this is something you want to do? It's not too late to change your mind, but after today it will be permanent."

Harry smiled, "Yes Severus. I really want to do this."

"Perfect," that was the only word he needed to say to explain all the feelings flowing inside of him, most of which he thought dead long ago.

As predicted, the day had been long and tiring. Each section of the adoption proceedings had to be reviewed in-depth yet again. And though no one said so and he didn't ask, he guessed the extra measures had more to do with him having the dark mark than Harry being the Boy-Who-Lived. In the end, the recommendation from Albus Dumbledore had been one of his solicitor's best decisions because no matter what objections the Ministry came up with, Albus had previously negated them in the memory shown of him giving his recommendation. It was the first time in the whole process Severus had gotten to see the recommendations they had received from Albus, Minerva, and Pomona. It was also the first time he'd seen the testament of Arabella Figg on Harry's treatment at the Dursleys. By the end, it was the closest he'd ever come to crying besides Lily's death.

They were both brought back into a large airy office where Severus sat with Harry by his side, and they signed what had to be dozens of documents. Some needed his written signature, where others needed his magical signature as well. Each one was read prior to him signing it by his solicitor and it was all going smoothly until they reached one titled "Petition for Official Name Change of a Magical Child".

"Will there be a name change with the adoption?" their case worker, Marie who was an older woman in her 60's with short grey hair and a kind smile, asked directly to Harry.

Harry furrowed his brows in deep concentration; they had not discussed if Harry would take the Snape surname.

"Oh... Erm," the young Gryffindor stuttered.

Noticing his young charge's discomfort, Severus immediately spoke up with, "No, he'll still remain Potter. If that's ok?" The last part was meant for Harry.

"Yes," Harry said relieved, "thank you."

Marie nodded her head and asked Severus to sign one more document. Then with a last wave of Marie's wand over the documents, all the ink dried, the parchment was duplicated into five copies, and then they were rolled and tied. Just like that, it was official; Harry was adopted and he was now Severus's son.

~~~~SS~~~~

Harry had indeed passed out when the port key was activated, which didn't surprise Severus one bit. The teenager had to be completely exhausted both physically and mentally. He was exhausted as well, but running pure on adrenaline at this point that he hardly noticed.

The hospital wing at Hogwarts was surprisingly well lit for being after two o'clock in the morning and Severus was oddly aware of how often he'd seen these early hours of the morning. Madam Pomfrey and Healer Smithe were both waiting by a bed surrounded by an IV stand with several bags hanging when Severus and Harry arrived. The moment he placed the young Gryffindor on the bed, they immediately jumped in. Alton started by connecting Harry's port to a bag of red liquid hanging on the IV stand then proceeded to insert another IV site into the top of his left hand for the others. Poppy was running a diagnostic scan and comparing it to the parchment from the one that was run back at Privet Drive presumably from the healer. Both were working completely synchronized; you'd think they always worked side-by-side together.

Harry started moaning and Severus cautiously approached the bed, scared to reach out to the young wizard not wanting to cause him any more pain. A chair was conjured next to Harry's right side and Seveus met Poppy's eye where she gave an almost imperceptible nod. The professor sat down in the chair and hesitantly took Harry's right hand in his own. As he was running his thumb mindlessly over the top trying to help calm the teen he felt smooth ridges under his fingertip. Confused, he looked down at the thin hand and saw healing scars that clearly said I must not tell lies. His heart pulled again trying to imagine why and where these could have come from. Yes, Harry had a rough year with most of the wizarding world thinking he was lying about Voldemort's return, many of whom were fellow students, but how this could have occurred; who did this to him? Images of Harry being held down and having this carved into his had passed through his mind, or worse... Harry sitting alone and doing it to himself. He gently squeezed the Gryffindor's hand; unfortunately, this was at the bottom of all the things to worry about right now, but he resolved to ask him about it later.

Poppy paused with her wand hovering over Harry's body, turned towards Severus and asked, "Severus, you're Harry's medical proxy correct?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"You need to decide how we should proceed with healing him - by magical or muggle means," the matron explained with an urgency in her voice showing how dire the situation was.

He frowned. Yes, he was responsible for making these decisions, but if he was honest with himself he had no idea what Harry in this reality would want. He knew the cancer meant they weren't supposed to use magical healing on him because the extra stress on his medical core could cause the depletion faster, however this seemed like an extreme circumstance where it may do more good than harm. He looked at the frail boy laying on the bed in front of him. For all he knew, Harry would wake up hating him again, but Severus would always do whatever it took not to let him die; he would not fail Harry again.

"Use magic for any potentially life-threatening injuries," he said confidently. "The rest can be treated by muggle means."

Healer Smithe nodded and started to get to work, again working in perfect synchronization with Madam Pomfrey while Severus tried his best to stay out of their way. On the other side of the curtain he could hear Professor Dumbledore speaking with Moody and Lupin and he was already dreading the interrogation he'd be receiving once Harry was stable; he'd made mistakes that would have to own up to. Luckily, Albus was able to convince Moody to hold off on the grounds that as he was Harry's medical proxy, he would be needed to make possibly life saving medical decisions as quickly as possible. No matter how much Moody would take pleasure in interrogating the now-former spy, even he wouldn't do it at the possible expense of The Chosen One.

In the end, Harry's broken ribs and resulting punctured lung, as well as his internal bleeding were healed by spells, potions, and salves. His broken leg was set in a muggle cast, they'd have to wait to see about the concussion, and the cuts from the glass were cleaned and bandaged; what was the most concerning to Healer Smithe was the high fever. Harry had been given a fever reducing potion, but with his lower immune system it wouldn't clear out the infection that could quickly sweep through his body. He was given morphine, a larger range of antibiotics than he was regularly taking, and a wide variety of other medications through his IVs - something about white blood cells and platelets - and now the healers had done all they could for the time being. It was a waiting game for Harry to wake up. Severus carded his hand through the young wizard's wispy hair, ignoring the strands that were left behind between his fingers. He then brushed the thinning fringe that was covering Harry's scar, which was swollen and an angry red color against his pale forehead.

He knew it was coming, but that still didn't lessen the anger building up in his chest. Albus finally had to agree to let Moody interrogate Severus, but under the requirement that it was done in Madam Pomfrey's office. By doing so, Severus would be able to know the instant should Harry's status change, but it still didn't make the current situation any easier, especially since his adrenaline was now gone and he was completely exhausted. If nothing else, it may prove to be entertaining.

"I find it curious that the date you provided the Order was off by a whole 24 hours," Moody accused.

As do I.

"I've given you no reason not to trust my intelligence previously," the Potions Master simply explained, "I don't know why Pettigrew reported Thursday. Had it been incorrect, I'm sure I would have heard his punishment."

"Because you were there? What were you doing all day yesterday?"

"I already told you I was." This was anything but a friendly chat. "After the summons meeting, the Dark Lord had me brewing a range of potions. Mostly pepper ups, invigorating draught, fever reducer, pain reliever, and one explosive which had obviously been used on the wall between Harry's room and the next door lavatory."

"Why does he need all those potions," the ex-Auror had always been skeptical of Severus's explanations.

"Since he's not big on gossip, your guess is as good as mine. I'm told what to brew and I do it... No questions asked. Death Eaters learn that last part pretty quickly; or at least the smart ones certainly do, and I like to think of myself in that category." He'd much rather have Shacklebolt or even Tonks questioning him with his current mood; he was a half a minute away from hexing the man in front of him and that definitely wouldn't help himself at all. Albus really should have stepped in to save both men from this antagonistic agony.

"Why weren't you part of the team to retrieve Harry?" That seemed like a stupid question and Severus seriously doubted the man still knew how to properly interrogate someone. He leaned back in his chair to demonstrate how little this process meant to him.

"I had always made it clear to Albus that this was not a mission I was involved in. I invite you to find the Dark Lord and ask him yourself if you're insistent on a reason," the black haired man explained. "Dolohov was running it and I was left to brew."

"You weren't left alone at all?"

"Obviously," Severus slowly answered looking up with disdain in his eyes, "or I would have sent word immediately. Pettigrew was with me almost constantly; plus I didn't even know they were ambushing until after it started."

"So how did you know what was happening?"

This time Severus couldn't hold back the eye roll, "I made Harry a way to contact me when he was sick-"

"That's right-," Moody interrupted placing the sphere on the table, yet again, not hiding his skepticism, "-this thing."

"Yes, that thing," Severus continued. "Once Harry squeezed it, I was alerted and when the message that came through said "mortal peril", I left immediately.

"When I arrived at Privet Drive, there were Death Eaters sending hexes and curses every which way through his bedroom window and the house had been breached. As a Death Eater, no one gave a second glance at my arrival. Dolohov had just gotten up the stairs when I started to duel him," Severus stopped, looking over at Albus who had just walked into the office.

"If that's all Alastor, I'm sure Severus can use a good night's rest," the headmaster said, finally ending the interrogation. Moody grumbled and shook his head.

He left me there long enough Severus thought walking back to the chair next to Harry's bed. He quickly transfigured it into one much more comfortable and sat down. Pulling his cloak over him, he gave one more check on the small boy in the bed hoping he'd wake up soon.

~~~~HP~~~~

As Harry started to come back into consciousness the only thing he could think was how much he ached from head to toe; even his insides ached and in a different way than the post-chemo pain he'd become so accustomed to. He could smell the familiar scent of the Hogwarts hospital wing - not as sterile as the hospitals he's been in recently, but still enough to recognize it as a place of healing. He tried to think back to what happened to land him here. Maybe a Quidditch accident again? No, it's summer holiday, so why was he at Hogwarts to begin with?

I think I was watching a movie with Dudley.

That was the last thing he remembered, watching a movie with his cousin after his aunt and uncle went out celebrating; then there was the fight with Snape from yesterday.

He finally cracked his eyes open and based on the small amount light filtering in through the windows, it had to be after dinnertime. He tried to push himself upright, but became aware of several things at once - his right foot couldn't move at all, his port was hooked up to some kind of muggle medicine, and he also had an IV in his left hand. He ended up abandoning the idea of sitting and instead reached over to where he knew the side table would have his glasses. Unfortunately, one lens was still broken but he only needed one to see. Looking down, he noticed he was not in the standard infirmary issued pyjamas, but a pair of button down black flannel ones with the top 3 buttons undone for access to the port.

His curtain was closed for privacy, but someone was asleep in the large armchair pulled up on the right side of his bed. On second thought, asleep wasn't quite the right word, it was more like passed out. Leaning over, his heart leapt, it was Snape!

His curtain was opened causing him to jump. Of course, it was Madam Pomfrey, who else would be notified that he had woken up.

"Good Afternoon Mister Potter," the medi-witch whispered peeking over at Snape. "How are you feeling?"

Harry wet his lips and then tried to say "fine" but nothing came out. Frustrated, he tried again, this time a scratched "water" was heard.

Madam Pomfrey nodded in understanding and handed Harry the glass of water from the bedside table. She then repaired his glasses with a quick reparo.

"Better?" she whispered again.

"Yes, thank you," he croaked. "What happened?"

"I'm afraid there was an attack at your home in Little Whinging last night," Madam Pomfrey started explaining in her typical no-nonsense manner. "Unfortunately, most of the home was destroyed, but several members of the Order were able to get you out. You'll be here for at least a couple of days."

Number 4 Privet Drive was destroyed? There were so many questions running through his mind.

"What happened to Dudley?" At Madam Pomfrey's confused look, Harry added, "My cousin. The last thing I remember is watching a movie with him."

"Oh, yes he's just fine. Knocked out real good, but he went to a muggle hospital and will be staying with an aunt or someone like that."

Harry shuddered, "Aunt Marge? What happened to his parents? My aunt and uncle."

"I believe so dear. You don't worry anymore about it, Professor Dumbledore will fill you in on all the details when you've gotten your strength back."

Harry tried not to dwell too much about what he couldn't remember as Madam Pomfrey did a wide range of checks on him; it proved to be almost impossible though. His right leg was in what he now realized was a cast from the bottom of his foot up to just below his knee, clearly due to a broken bone that wasn't healed magically, serving as a constant reminder of what had happened.

Once the medi-witch was finished, she brought him a bowl of chicken soup with bread for dinner. He picked at the food thinking about everything that had gone on in the last couple weeks. From the Department of Mysteries to now, his life looked nothing like he was used to and now with the house on Privet Drive gone, he had no idea where he would end up staying this summer.

Harry got his answer about where he was going to be living for the summer only three days later. Madam Pomfrey and Healer Smithe refused to even consider letting him leave the hospital wing until his fever was completely gone and his blood levels back to as close to normal as they could be considering the Leukemia and chemotherapy. Healer Smithe explained that due to the infection, he couldn't continue on his normal treatment schedule and he would present the new schedule at a later time. Harry thought that sounded rather ominous, but no matter how much he pleaded, the healer wasn't budging, claiming he needed to review the protocol with his oncologist consultant.

By the time he was cleared to leave the hospital wing, he was feeling the best since starting the chemo and the only lasting effect from the Privet Drive attack was his broken leg and sore muscles. He would be in the cast for no less than 6 weeks, which would be right before classes started back for fall term. To get around, he was required to use a set of muggle crutches which looked completely out of place in the castle and he was secretly happy no one would be around to see him.

Snape had not been to the hospital wing as much as Harry had hoped since he had so much to discuss with the professor. A lot had happened since he found out about Snape's other life and even after Harry kicked him out, the man had come back to rescue him. That wasn't something he could just ignore. Snape stopped by at least twice a day, but Harry suspected the Potions Master was there more often, especially seeing as he slept off the fever most of the day. He could tell Snape was in a state of panic, or at least as much as a man with that much pride and stoicism could show, because he was constantly on alert especially whenever the headmaster stopped by at the same time. Harry could only assume it had something to do with Voldemort, but no one was giving him any information.

There were two topics that were consistently avoided - anything that had to do with whatever reality that Snape had come from and the details of the Privet Drive attack. No matter how many times Harry asked, everyone managed to avoid answering his questions with not-so-subtle diversions. Harry spent his time sorting through all the information he did know either inherently or by the eavesdropping he'd managed to do... the wards fell around his relatives' house Friday night, Dudley wasn't seriously hurt but had now gone to stay with Aunt Marge, Snape showed up after the Death Eaters entered the house, someone blew up one of his walls, the Order showed up and the battle eventually ended. He was getting extremely frustrated with the adults around him and at this point would almost take going back to live with his aunt and uncle just to get away from everyone.

"I bet you're ready to get out of here, aren't you Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey cheerfully said coming around the curtain.

"You have no idea. I'm pretty sure I was fine last night though." Harry was always hating staying in the hospital wing and he was more than ready to get out of there. Remus had been by with whatever they could salvage from his bedroom which at least included a pair of his own pyjamas. He was wearing a set of green and black plaid bottoms with a green long sleeved t-shirt.

"Yes, well an extra day never hurt anyone," she busied herself running one last diagnostic charm. "I see your healer has been by to remove the IVs and delivered your crutches."

Harry nodded, looking over to the side of his bed where the crutches were leaning; thinking how interested this was going to be. Snape and Dumbledore walked around the curtain just as the diagnostic test was finishing and Snape picked up the crutches holding them out to Harry.

"Is anyone going to tell me where I'm bloody going?"

Dumbledore took control of the conversation, "Of course, Harry. You'll be staying with Professor Snape for the time being-" hearing this, Harry took a sideways glance at the potions professor who didn't react at all, "- he'll still be overseeing your care at least until the start of term."

"What will happen to me then?" He was twisting a thread from his blanket around his fingers as he nervously asked, relieved the professor still wanted to help him.

"We'll discuss that as we approach the start of term," the headmaster explained and Harry felt like he was an inconvenience being passed off from one person to the next.

Harry nodded. "And what about my aunt and uncle?"

Snape and Dumbledore turned towards each other as if they were having a silent conversation. For all Harry knew, they actually could be.

In the end, it was Snape that spoke up, "Harry, the blood wards... What do you know about them?"

"Oh," this was an unexpected question, "well, it's an extension of my mother's sacrifice. As long as I call the same house "home" as my aunt, I'm protected from Voldemort and the Death Eaters or at least I was supposed to be."

"Exactly," the younger professor said. "Last Friday, the wards fell completely leaving you unprotected which is how the Death Eaters were able to attack you.

"After a thorough investigation, we found that the Dark Lord discovered that by eliminating your aunt, the wards would then fail, giving them complete access to you."

Harry felt like all the air was sucked from the room and straight out of his lungs. His aunt was eliminated ... killed... to get to him. While he should have been more affected by their deaths, he found he wasn't sad at all. What he was upset about was that he was finally starting to get along with Dudley and now the boy was an orphan too; and it was all Harry's fault, just like Uncle Vernon used to yell about. Once again Voldemort managed to completely screw up his life.

"Oh," was all he could think to say. "But how? Sir?"

"It appears the clients your aunt and uncle were visiting that night were part of an elaborate ruse," Snape was speaking slowly, but confidently. "Once they were on their way home, there was a car accident and neither survived."

"A car accident?" It was ironic, really, but Harry wasn't going to express that now. "Are you sure it was Voldemort then? Could it have been a coincidence?"

"Based on the scene, there is no question," Dumbledore spoke this time. "In fact, quite a few muggles had to be obliviated afterwards for witnessing such unique circumstances."

"Oh. I need to see Dudley," Harry started to stand up with the help of his crutches. He didn't know where he was going, but he needed to move.

"You're not leaving the castle," Snape said, placing a hand on the teen's shoulder. "Once you're settled, he's expecting a letter from you. We'll send it to Mrs. Figg and she will make sure he receives it."

Harry didn't sit back on the bed, he was ready to leave and didn't want to wait any longer.

"Can we please go now sir?"

"Of course," Snape said, gesturing with his arm for Harry to start walking.

It was a tedious journey down to the dungeons trying to navigate the staircases on crutches. He was so focused on not falling face first down the stairs that he didn't really think about the fact that he would be staying with the professor he kicked out of his house less than a week ago. Not to mention that said professor somehow came here from a different world where he had adopted Harry. They definitely had a lot to clear between them, but it couldn't be much worse than living with the Dursley's could it?

After an eternity of hobbling down the corridors, Harry was exhausted and relieved when Snape stopped in front of a blank section of the stone wall. Harry nearly commented on if the professor forgot where he lived, but luckily stopped himself at the last second remembering the entrance to the Slytherin common room from second year. Snape waved his wand in a complicated pattern Harry hoped he would not need to remember then turned to the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Place your right hand here," the potion master said pointing to a depression in the stone.

Harry obediently placed his hand and immediately an extravagantly carved wooden door appeared to the left section of the wall.

"I don't expect you to be out wandering alone," Snape glared down at him as if to say that Harry would be in a heap of trouble for doing so, "but should you find yourself needing to come back without me, I've keyed you into the wards. All you need to do is place your hand in that space again and the door will appear."

Harry had visions of himself wandering the dungeons placing his hand on every section of the walls trying to find the right one. Without waiting for Harry to respond, Snape pulled the door open and ushered Harry inside. To the Gryffindor's surprise, and delight, the door did not disappear upon entering the inside of the room; otherwise he would have felt trapped.

He'd never put too much thought into where any of the professors lived while at school, but if he had, this was as far away from what he'd expect Snape to live in as possible. Instead of the cold, dark dungeon with bats hanging from the ceiling, he was met with a bright, comfortable space. Ron would be highly disappointed.

Directly in front of him was the sitting room. He made his way over to an enchanted window which showed the midday sun over the black lake. The window brought in the same amount of natural light as a regular window would have caused Harry to briefly forget he was underground. The walls were made of stone, but colored in a brighter grey than the regular dungeon stones. A modern-looking sofa that appeared rarely used sat in front of the large fireplace, with two comfortable looking armchairs on either side of the sofa, and a low coffee table was in the middle of them all. There was a desk next to a hallway off the left side of the sitting room where he could see a couple of doors and then a doorway to the left of the hall leading into a small kitchen. Finally, the right side of the sitting room was completely covered in tall bookshelves filled with both muggle and magical texts, and another closed door.

"That's my office," Snape said pointing to the door by the bookshelves, "which also leads to my personal potions lab. You are not to go in there alone for any reason."

"Yes sir," Harry replied. He could not think of a single reason why he would ever want to step foot in that room alone, but Snape had made it perfectly clear that should he find a reason, he likely would not survive the ordeal.

"Your room is this way," the professor gestured for Harry to follow him to the hallway. They stopped in front of the first door on the right. Pointing further down the hallway he continued the tour, "My room is at the end down there on the left. This-," he gestured to the door next to the one they were in front of, "- is a lavatory that you have access to directly from your room."

Something about the way Snape said your room made Harry feel warm inside, like he was a welcomed addition to the normally private professor's space. The door to his bedroom opened to reveal an inviting room with the stone walls colored a light blue. A desk on the left wall sat next to a door leading to the lavatory Snape showed him from the hall. The wardrobe was on the wall flushed with the door and Harry thought the first thing he should do is unpack his trunk. The bed in the far right corner of the room sat under another enchanted window showing the same view as in the sitting room. The four poster bed was made up with blue and green sheets and bedspread making it look not only comfortable, but welcoming.

"This is brilliant sir," Harry said, truly grateful for a room that actually felt like it could be his. "Thank you."

Snape merely brushed off the gratitude as he always did, "You should have everything you need in the wardrobe and lavatory. If anything is missing, please do let me know."

Going further into the room, he found his wand on the bedside table. He'd been wanting to ask if anyone had recovered it, but since no one was discussing the attack with him he hadn't had the chance. Even though he wasn't supposed to use magic, he relaxed just holding his wand knowing should he have to use it, it was there.

"Alton will be stopping by within the hour to discuss the rest of your treatment schedule," Snape said before slowly leaving, the intention clear that Harry was expected to be there.

There was not quite enough time to get started on school work or take a nap, so he went over to the desk and found it already filled with all the supplies he could ever need - parchment, quills, ink, and an assortment of muggle paper, pens, pencils, and markers. He pulled out some paper and a pen to write to Dudley. How do you write a letter to the person whose parents you got killed?

There's nothing I can say that he'll want to hear... I've now gotten 3 people killed in only a month.

After four failed attempts to write the letter, all of which now sat crumbled at his feet, he gave up and went to find Snape. He moved slowly on the crutches, but made it out to find his professor sitting in the closest armchair by the fireplace, a roaring fire keeping the air warm in the cold dungeon. He made a note to check if his slippers or warm socks made it here from the house.

Snape was reading through a large sheet of parchment and appeared not to notice Harry enter, which the Gryffindor didn't believe for one second. Just in case though, he went around the room so as not to surprise Snape from behind. Of course, as a spy he didn't really think the man could ever actually be surprised by such a thing. He decided to sit on the other armchair since the three-person sofa looked rarely used.

"Can we talk about, y'know... where you came from?" Harry was beyond nervous to bring up the topic that had been unofficially off limits since the day before the attack.

Snape put down the parchment and narrowed his eyes at his young charge, "I am not physically from anywhere else."

Why does he have to make this harder than it already is?

"Well, it's the best way I can think to describe it. Seriously, though... " Harry trailed off slightly embarrassed.

"What is it you would like to know?"

"How did it happen?" Harry was relieved Snape didn't need anymore prompting; he instinctively knew Harry wanted to know how he'd ended up in his should-have-been hated professor's care.

"It wasn't an overnight occurrence," the professor was being intentionally vague; trying to provide the least amount of information that would satisfy Harry's curiosity. "Let's just say that an event occurred over the Christmas holiday of your first year that caused me to reevaluate my initial opinion of you."

Am I imagining things or does he sound embarrassed?

Harry could tell this was a topic the Potions Professor did not want to discuss, but the young wizard couldn't imagine why. Harry would have thought the man would be happy that Harry was at least taking him seriously and deep down Harry thought maybe this could start to change his views of Snape after all.

"And that was it? You were just nice to me after that?"

Snape paused before answering, "I was certainly more tolerant of you going forward."

Harry thought hard about that statement, maybe his other self hadn't realized the paradigm shift in the professor. He still couldn't see how they went from mutual hatred to father-son.

"Did I still accuse you of trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone?"

The professor actually laughed, "Yes, unfortunately all of that still occurred up to Quirrell's death, however I believe that was also the moment you realized I was no longer an enemy to you. While my opinion of you had been consistently changing throughout the end of first year, yours to me was a bit of a sudden leap."

Snape sighed as if he decided that he could not get out of the conversation, so he would give in a little more than he wanted to.

"What was different between our realities Harry was that in mine, I spent most of spring term determined to get you away from your relatives. In hindsight, I can now say that it was not only because it was the right thing to do but because I truly wanted what was best for you. At the time I told myself that it was what any responsible teacher would do for their student. It wasn't, however, nearly as easy as I would have hoped, but I should not have expected otherwise. Albus was insistent that the blood wards were of the utmost importance and your life inside that house, while not ideal, was also not endangered."

Harry listened to the story as if he were getting pieces of a memory back; as if he'd had amnesia or something and he was now trying to fit pieces of two different puzzles into one. It was a whole other life of his that actually existed without him knowing it.

"By the end of term, after the Philosopher's Stone debacle and you were unconscious in the hospital wing, the Headmaster informed me that he had decided to send you back to them. I refused to let him, telling him I'd take you under my care and if he didn't agree then he could find another former Death Eater to spy for him should the Dark Lord return. He finally agreed and put my already heavily warded home under a Fidelius Charm. Honestly I think he put up a big fuss just to get me to do exactly what I did. It worked out for us, so I cannot hold it against him."

He could hear the endearment in Snape's voice talking about events perfectly relevant to the man, but not at all to Harry. Instead, Harry closed his eyes wishing it had been him. He had so many questions he wanted to ask. How did he react being told he'd be living with Snape of all people? Was he excited just to be away from Privet Drive that he would have gone with anyone?

It didn't matter either way because apparently Snape had deemed the conversation closed, picking up his parchment to continue reviewing whatever it was. Living with the professor meant he'd get plenty of opportunities to ask about this other life and he intended to take full advantage of it.

"What is that you're working on?" Harry asked casually, but in true Snape fashion he completely ignored the question.

"Have you put any more thought into shaving your head?" Snape asked bluntly, not even looking up from the parchment he was reading.

Harry flinched at the abrupt question.

"Erm... yeah," he started, this causing Snape to look up, "I might as well just get it over with right?" He ran his hand through the black mess again coming back with more hair in his fingers as if to prove a point.

"It's completely your decision," Snape replied, going back to his reading, "would you like some assistance?"

Harry took a deep breath considering the offer, "Erm... I don't think so."

"Ok. I'll leave the clippers Alton brought by for you in the lavatory after dinner," the professor casually said as if he were talking about going to buy potions ingredients.

Harry stared down at his feet just to have somewhere else to look besides Snape, feeling oddly out of place. Suddenly, the older wizard looked towards the door and a couple seconds later a piece of parchment appeared on the coffee table in front of them that just said Alton Smithe.

"Your healer is here," Snape called standing up and heading towards the door.

Harry could only assume that it was some kind of Wizarding Doorbell he'd just experienced. Not for the first time since entering the wizarding world he was amazed with what magic could do.

Grabbing his crutches, Harry stood up and started to head with Snape to the door before he was stopped.

"Sit down," Snape scolded him, "we'll have tea in here."

Harry sat back down, but this time on the sofa. He laid down sideways with his legs resting on the cushions next to him, really hoping Snape wouldn't mind his casual position. The sofa was quite comfortable and as long as he didn't get lectured by Snape, he determined this was going to be his spot.

A tray filled with tea, cups, and biscuits came hovering into the sitting room, practically over Harry's head. Sitting up a little further, he saw Healer Smithe walk in and take the armchair Harry had been previously sitting in. Snape hadn't followed and when Harry turned to find the potions professor, he saw Snape standing by the kitchen doorway staring at him as if he'd seen a ghost. He shook his head when their eyes met and entered the room taking his seat as well. Snape served tea for the three of them.

"So Harry," Healer Smithe started, "you had quite the weekend."

Harry frowned, "Something like that sir." He took a sip of his tea, which was surprisingly flavorful.

"I wish I could say the rest of your summer would go smoothly, but it at least won't be as bad as this weekend," he pulled out a folder from the bag Harry just noticed he brought with him, "I've reworked your treatment schedule due to the infection you had. Luckily, your blood work is stabilized again, but we'll continue to take blood everyday to monitor it. "

"Everyday?" That sounded far from pleasant.

"Unfortunately yes, we'll do a blood sample every morning until your induction chemo is completed. Which brings me to-" he handed Harry a schedule which might as well have been written in German, " - the schedule. It's been recommended, and I agree, that you start a continuous round of chemo to finish off the induction phase."

Harry looked down at the paper, shook his head and handed it over to Snape. "Continuous? Like, as in all the time?"

"Again, unfortunately yes. On top of having to miss several doses due to the infection, your blood samples weren't where we'd hope they would be at this point of induction, so we're going to go more aggressive to finish it off. Hopefully that will give it an extra push to remission. Starting Friday, you'll be on a 22hr on, 2hr off, schedule for a total of 7 days. Thursday I'll be by to do another Intrathecal, which should have been done this past weekend."

Harry could feel both sets of eyes on him gauging his reaction. He resisted the urge to complain, knowing it wouldn't matter in the end anyway, and decided to keep whatever bit of dignity he could.

"So, nothing tomorrow?"

"You should rest," Healer Smithe explained. "You're still recovering from the attack and you should gain as much strength as possible."

Harry nodded - that's all he ever did lately - and zoned out the rest of the conversation between his professor and his healer thinking about the fact that his blood work did not look promising to reach remission. It was a depressing thought. He didn't pay attention to the conversation around him until he heard Dumbledore's voice from the floo.

"Severus," the Headmaster's floating head greeted, "can you spare a few minutes?"

"I'll be right through," Snape replied standing up and Healer Smithe mirrored him once the headmaster was no longer in the floo.

"I'll be by tomorrow morning for a blood sample," Healer Smithe said while he readied his bag to leave. "Severus, please consider my suggestion."

Harry perked up at that statement, of all the times not to pay attention, he missed the chance to eavesdrop on something good.

"I'll consider it Alton," Snape walked the healer to the door and bid him farewell.

"I need to visit the headmaster," Snape said, coming up to the sofa. Harry had laid back down across and expected to be reprimanded for it, however the professor had that far away look again. "If you need me, I've recovered the sphere."

He handed Harry the sphere from his bedroom on Privet Drive. Harry lowered his eyebrows remembering the last time he tried to use it.

"I think it's broken sir. When I squeezed it during the attack, nothing happened."

"That's because it recognized you had intruders after you," Snape smirked. "You wouldn't want your enemy to know you had called for help, correct?"

Harry's mouth dropped open. That was the most Slytherin-thing he'd ever heard and yet totally brilliant. He was legitimately impressed by the idea. Before he could say anything to his professor though, the man placed his potions textbook on the table and then floo'ed to the Headmaster's office.

Harry picked up the potions book, assuming he was to start reading for his summer assignments. He'd been avoiding this subject because living with the professor - when he had every intention of reading over his assignments - meant he would get the inevitable tongue lashing early and he just didn't want to subject himself to that. Plus, without knowing his O.W.L mark for potions, he didn't think working on an assignment for a class he might not take was a good use of time. Now though, he'd either have to start the reading or get up to get another book and he just didn't want to move at that moment.

Potions theory just wasn't captivating enough to keep Harry's attention that afternoon, so it didn't take the teen long to fall asleep. He dreamed the strangest dream of the Pivot Drive attack; of Snape threatening him detention of all things during the whole ordeal. When he awoke, it was to a feeling he'd long lost and was happy to experience again - hunger. Sitting up, he reached for his glasses finding them on the table beside him. Snape must have removed them when he came back from meeting with Dumbledore. Once his glasses were on his face, he noticed a soft green and silver blanket was covering him and he couldn't contain the small smile at the warm thought of his professor doing such a thing as covering him with a blanket.

The clock on the fireplace mantle read half past four and the enchanted window brought a soft glow of the pending sunset, so grabbing his crutches, Harry headed towards the kitchen. He could hear pots and pans moving around when he came through the doorway.

"You need to learn Occlumency," were the first words Snape said without even turning away from the small stove.

"Why are you cooking? I always took you as having a house elf to do that kind of stuff or are there no house elves around in the summer?" Everyone else seemed fine to ignore his questions, so he didn't feel bad at all about ignoring Snape's statement.

"As a matter of fact, no the house elves are not working per se. During the summer months they focus on things that cannot be done when there are hundreds of teenagers around," he turned to face Harry, arms crossed over his chest. Harry was getting too used to seeing the professor without the billowing teachers robes and he wasn't nearly as intimidated by the man anymore. "If need be, they are here, but I prefer not to have them in my quarters and to handle my own cooking. Plus, I generally don't spend the summers at the castle; at least not exclusively."

That made sense, in fact Harry should have assumed the professors had somewhere besides Hogwarts to call home. He wondered what Snape's house was like. The man's quarters in the castle were nothing like he expected, but he had a hard time imagining his house was anything but dark and dreary.

Snape gestured for him to take a seat at the four-person table in the small kitchen area. A plate of dinner consisting of roasted turkey with gravy, potatoes, and peas, was placed in front of him. Snape sat down at the settings across from the young wizard.

"As I was saying," the professor lectured, "you need to finish learning occlumency."

"Why now?" Harry picked up his fork and poked at the food. It smelled delicious, but he was wary to eat it.

"It is not poisoned. I thought we've been through this already."

"It's just weird," Harry took a tentative bite.

"Elaborate please," Snape seemed way too comfortable to Harry.

"Well, I've never been in a professor's quarters before," Harry started explaining, "and then, I don't know... Having you cook for me in your kitchen just seems... Odd."

"Unless you plan on starving yourself this summer," Snape said dramatically, "get used to it."

They let an awkward silence fall over the table while they both ate their dinner.

"Care to explain why you don't wish to discuss occlumency. Besides the obvious?"

Harry took a sip of his pumpkin juice so he could delay his answer as much as possible. "Well, I just don't see the point. Voldemort wasn't successful last year when he possessed me, or whatever that was, and frankly from what I've seen, you're not a spy anymore so there's not much he can gain from me."

"Have you thought that maybe learning about your current... ailment would be less than ideal for the side of the light?" Harry could hear the doubt in the former spy's voice as he considered what would happen if Voldemort found out. "Besides, there is another, more pressing reason why you need to learn."

"What's that?"

Snape raised one eyebrow, "I can't provide that information at this time, but once term resumes, be prepared to start again."

Harry frowned, "Are you sure that's wise sir? I mean, last time-" Harry trailed off, having a hard time looking his professor in the eyes.

"As I said previously, you put as much effort into learning as I did in teaching and... I apologise for my part in that."

Harry almost audibly gasped. An apology from Severus Snape! Ron would never believe this... But then, this isn't the same Snape is it? This Snape has memories from a completely different life, so did that even count? Harry decided to take the opportunity to continue asking about his other life.

"Did I know occlumency where you're from?" He had to ask the burning question in his mind. Had Sirius...?

"Yes," Snape answered quietly. "I taught it to him, or rather you, in fourth year."

"So, then the Department of Mysteries... And Sirius?" Harry couldn't ask it out loud and was relieved when Snape understood.

The Potions Master looked uncomfortable, "It didn't happen. Even if the Dark Lord had been around to invade your mind as he did this past year, you already knew occlumency by then. The summer before your fourth year, you started to see visions of a graveyard. Once you finally explained to me what was happening, we were able to stop them using occlumency."

Harry shifted in his seat showing how uncomfortable he was with this discussion. This confirmed it was his fault Sirius died. Had he been able to learn from Snape last year, he never would have gotten the false vision.

"Remember Harry, by that point you'd been in my care for over 2 years and trusted me much more than my counterpart here. While I don't expect that level of trust now, I do hope we can at least gain some sort of working trust so you can protect your mind from a very real threat in this world."

Harry bit his lower lip, that was a lot to ask. Could he really trust Snape? If he was honest with himself, it didn't seem as much of a stretch now than it would have last year or even last month. He wanted to trust the man, but he didn't know if he could go through with it.

"So, then what happened with Sirius?"

"Are you looking for something specific?" Snape asked and when Harry shook his head he continued,

"Ironically, he was in this very room the day I left there and woke up here. Everything from your 3rd year happened as it did in this reality, even that damn time turner from the Headmaster," Severus never understood why Albus would trust that to a set of 13 year olds and the Potions Master threatened his resignation with Harry's unenrollment over that event, "but you managed to convince me to question his conviction and we were able to prove his innocence. Unfortunately, we never did find Pettigrew.

"Your Godfather and I eventually came to a truce with each other. At first, he had a hard time adjusting to the adoption, given our history and his status as your Godfather, but he learned to respect it; more for your benefit than mine."

Harry closed his eyes trying not to think how unfair it was that in this world he was alive, but not Sirius and in that one Sirius lived while Harry had died. It's like they were destined not to coexist together. He found himself wishing he could wake up tomorrow in that other world, before the diagnosis. Maybe then he could make different choices than he did and live a life surrounded by people who cared for him with no Voldemort instead of his lonely world where he's destined to kill or be killed.

"Don't," Snape said threateningly.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't go down the what if's," the professor explained. "Life here happened as it did and the best we can do is keep moving forward. You have enough to focus on ahead of you."

"Like saving the world from Voldemort?" Harry knew it sounded petty, but he didn't care one bit.

"I think you should start with trying to see some worth in yourself, maybe try to forgive yourself, and be confident in who you are as a person and a wizard. The rest will fall into place."

While all that sounded fine and good, Harry didn't exactly know what it meant or how to accomplish it.

"How did I get out of the Triwizard Tournament? You mentioned a loophole before?" Harry had deemed that as the turning point for Voldemort's return here which did not occur in the other world, so knowing why and how he managed to stop it felt important.

Snape turned away from Harry momentarily before speaking, "Well, as your parent I tried to refuse to give consent. I went as far as the Wizengamot, but was told parental consent was not needed and therefore not a valid reason to break the contract. At that point, there was only a little over a week before the first task, so I focused on training you the best I could. I don't think I'd ever been so scared in my life; watching you with that dragon.

"Once that was behind us, I continued to spend as much time as I could searching for a way to get you out of it. Finally discovering that the contract - the one that did not require my consent - was written for Harry James Potter. When you were officially adopted, we never considered changing your name; I didn't want you to think I was in anyway replacing James. However, there was no contract requiring a Harry James Potter-Snape to compete. Since you legally had a right to take my surname, once we filed the paperwork, the contract was broken automatically."

"So... Where you come from, I went by Harry Snape?" That sounded very wrong and Harry could feel his heart rate increasing.

"Potter-Snape. And you didn't need to. I told you I didn't expect you to use it, but once it was official you just did. I never asked why," the professor didn't say he'd overheard Harry's reason when he was discussing it with his friends and it was one of the few memories he most cherished.

So, Snape had been the only reason he didn't get to the third task and Voldemort's resurrection. To Harry, that was a hard truth to swallow.

"Ok professor," he finally conceded, "I'll try harder to learn Occlumency this time. But I still think you should at least tell me why it's so important that I learn it."

Snape gave a frustrated sigh, "In time I will, but for now take it as your first test of trust in me."

Nothing in that statement made Harry feel comfortable.

~~~~A/U SS~~~~

As usual, Severus and Harry had a very casual Christmas at Spinner's End this year with a relaxing morning just the two of them, followed by dinner at Grimmauld Place with Sirius, Remus, and Remus's new girlfriend Nymphadora Tonks, who refused to go by her first name and only answered to Tonks. They had a much more vibrant New Year's celebration at the Burrow with more people in attendance than Severus was comfortable to be around, but it made his 14-year old son happy so he endured it. The kids spent most of the night playing a pick up game of Quidditch before they all rang in the New Year with some questionably legal fireworks courtesy of Fred and George.

They had just resumed classes after the Christmas holidays and Severus was feeling infinitely better now that he'd managed to get Harry out of that blasted Triwizard Tournament. He mentally kicked himself for not having thought of it before the first task, but it was done and now behind them.

"Oh Severus," Minerva said on the first morning before classes started back, "I see there was an official change to my house roster for a Mr. Harry Potter-Snape."

"Don't get too sentimental," Severus said realistically, "it was a means to an end."

Minerva smiled, "I guess we shall have to wait and see what the young man himself decides. I have a feeling you'll be pleasantly surprised."

The potions professor simply shook his head. No matter what anyone else thought, had Harry actually wanted to use his last name they would have changed it much sooner than this.

Severus didn't make it a habit of listening in on his son's conversations, but in Potions class that day, Ron and Harry were seated in the front row and their topic of conversation caught his attention immediately -

"Are you really going to start using Potter-Snape?" He heard Ron ask Harry once they started their work for the day, "I mean, it was all just on paper to get out of the tournament right? It's not like you're required to use it now."

Harry put down the stirring rod and turned to Ron, "I know, but technically it's magically binding, so all of my school documents automatically updated. It would be a constant battle to keep correcting professors, so I think I'm sticking with it."

Severus watched discreetly as Harry went back to stirring the potion; proud of him for keeping a close count on the clockwise and anticlockwise steps. Once the Gryffindor finished with the required three in each direction he looked back at his friend and added, "Not only that, why can't I have the same last name as my dad... Everyone else does."

Severus quickly took interest in the papers on his desk, while taking a large cleansing breath. Harry had never referred to him as "dad" before, at least not in his presence. Two things happened that day - from then on, Harry went by "Harry Potter-Snape" and he started calling Severus "dad". Severus didn't care what anyone else would say about him, but at that moment couldn't keep the smile off his face.

~~~~SS~~~~

Deep down Severus knew that conversation wasn't going to go well. Knowing Sirius hadn't been killed was difficult for Harry to hear and he definitely did not want to think of himself as a Snape even if it wasn't in this lifetime. As expected, the Gryffindor promptly got up from the table and took his plate to sink before leaving the kitchen. Severus was surprised that the bedroom door wasn't slammed any harder than normal.

He had just finished cleaning the dinner dishes and left over food when he heard banging from the hallway. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked to go deal with the sullen teenager. For the briefest moment he almost thought this could have been any normal day in his old world.

"Harry?"

Getting closer to his bedroom door, he heard the banging again but coming from the adjoining lavatory. Starting to worry, he tried to open the lavatory door carefully but was met with resistance on the other side.

"Harry," he called out, "are you ok?"

Pressing his ear to the door, he heard sniffling and a muffled "yeah". Not believing for a second that he was indeed ok, Severus changed tactics and walked to the bedroom door. He slowly cracked it open wanting to provide whatever privacy he could for Harry, but not at the expense of his safety.

Once in the room, he walked to the open lavatory door. Leaning against the doorframe he looked down at the small teen. Harry was slumped against the door leading to the hall, his head resting on his arms on his one propped up knee. Between them was a stool in front of the sink with the muggle hair clippers sitting next to the sink. It wasn't a stretch to figure out what had occurred.

"I can't do it," Harry said, finally looking up to meet Severus's eyes.

"You can always wait for... nature to take its course," Severus said calmly, "or if you'd like, I can do it for you."

Harry just blinked at him and Severus started to question to himself if he'd suggested that out loud or not.

"Would you mind?" The small voice asked, his eyes pleading for help.

"I would not have offered if I did," he held out his hand to help Harry off the floor, "I don't know how you even managed to end up down there."

Harry hobbled up and sat down on the stool facing the mirror. He ran his hand through his thinning hair one more time.

"Other way," Severus said, lowering his eyebrows. "This way you don't have to watch, that is unless you want to."

Harry rotated on the chair, "Oh, that's a good idea. I don't want to see it."

Severus grabbed a towel from the shelf and draped it over Harry's bony shoulders. Turning on the clippers, he waited for Harry to get used to the sound in case he changed his mind. Harry gave a small nod and Severus started to run the clippers as carefully as he could from the front of his head to the back. Slowly, black locks of hair started to fall and collect on the towel and tumbled onto the floor.

Once it was completed, Severus ran his hand over Harry's smooth head.

"Looks good," he said trying to act like nothing had changed.

"I don't think good is what I'm going for," Harry said, intending to be sarcastic but it came out sad. He was about to turn around, when Severus stopped him.

"Wait a minute," he walked out of the lavatory into the bedroom. He'd placed some beanies in there the other day in preparation for when this moment arrived. Grabbing one, in green to match Harry's eyes, he also summoned a blank piece of parchment then made his way back to the lavatory. Harry was still sitting with his back to the mirror, his eyes currently closed.

"Here," he said softly, handing Harry the beanie. "You should look before putting that on."

Instead of turning around, Harry opened his eyes, took the beanie and looked down at the hair all around the floor.

Snape gestured to the hair and held out the parchment, "Do you mind?" he asked.

After Harry's confused look, he bent down and picked up a lock of hair and placed it on the parchment. He waved his wand, placing a sticking charm on the lock of hair, then folded it and handed it to Harry to keep.

The young wizard took the parchment and simply said, "Thank you," before turning around to look in the mirror.

Severus placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, "It will grow back once all this is over."

~~~~HP~~~~

I'm a coward.

Even though he really had no reason to be, Harry was in a foul mood after the haircut. It didn't help that he was finally able to bathe, but with the bloody cast on his leg it was awkward and he grudgingly needed Snape's help yet again. Even though the professor placed a waterproofing charm on the cast itself, Harry was still hesitant to test it out submerged in the water which made for an uncomfortable experience all around.

Tomorrow was supposed to be considered a "rest day", but now that he knew what to expect with the chemo coming up, he really wanted to use this newfound energy to see Ron. He's always had his friends by his side and even though at the end of term he was ready for some space, being cooped up with his potions professor had gotten to him. The only problem was he had to ask Snape to arrange a visit and that's exactly why he was calling himself a coward.

He probably should have been in bed at least an hour ago, but he was anything but tired so he was laying across the sofa in Snape's sitting room attempting to read through his potions textbook yet again. What he was actually doing was thinking of all the ways Snape would humiliate him for asking to visit with Ron; none of which ended well for the Gryffindor.

"Are you planning on teaching next term?" Snape's monotone voice broke through his thoughts.

"What are you talking about?"

Snape gestured to the textbook, "The only reason I can imagine you would be reading the same page for almost a half hour is if you planned on teaching the lesson."

Harry felt his face flush. "Oh, erm. I wasn't really reading it."

"Obviously," the professor paused, "what is on your mind?"

"It's nothing." The young wizard dramatically flipped the page in the textbook as if to make a point.

Snape put down the book he was reading, Powerful Potions of Ancient Asia, on the coffee table. He crossed his right foot over his left knee and stared questioningly at his young charge.

"Is it about your O.W.L. marks?"

Harry frowned and replied full of sarcasm, "Actually, I kind've forgotten about those. Thanks for the reminder though, another disappointment to look forward to this summer."

He knew that wasn't exactly fair to throw back, but he really hadn't been thinking about them and it wasn't like the scores mattered that much anyway. Without being able to cast spells, he was bound to fall behind. Did O.W.L. marks expire if you don't take the N.E.W.T. course right away? He made a mental note to ask Hermione; it was something she would know.

"Sorry sir," Harry finally said. "It's just... I was thinking... Never mind."

See, you're a total coward.

Deciding just to go to bed and forget the awful day, he reached for his crutches meeting the professor's eyes in the process. The man appeared upset, but at what Harry couldn't even start to guess.

"Fine," Harry conceded angrily, "I was hoping to see Ron now that I'm at the castle for the summer, but clearly that's a bad idea."

"And why is that?"

Harry swept his arms around the sitting room as if that explained it all. To further prove his point, he added, "I'm living in the dungeons for one. I could just imagine how that conversation would go."

"Are you finished?" Snape asked a moment later. For some reason, that infuriated Harry even more.

"Yes... No! I don't know!" He yelled, "Why does it matter?"

"First," Snape leaned forward steepling his hands together, "I don't care where we stood in the past, but you will respect me in these quarters.

"Second, before you work yourself into a deeper anxiety attack, Molly Weasley will be here tomorrow anyways. If you'd like the youngest Mr. Weasley to visit, you needn't go further than simply asking."

Harry felt like an idiot. How was he supposed to know Mrs. Weasley was going to be here?

"Why is Mrs. Weasley going to be here?"

The Potions Master narrowed his eyes clearly thinking before replying, "I'm needed by the headmaster tomorrow."

"So she's babysitting me." It wasn't a question and he was highly offended at the thought of a babysitter.

"Don't think too hard about it," Snape brushed off the offended tone, "she is going to be in the castle anyway and I simply asked if she could check-in on you. Would you like me to request the youngest Mr. Weasley to accompany her?"

As much as he hated to admit it, spending time with Ron was more important than his pride.

"Yes sir," he mumbled, "that would be great if you could." There... he swallowed his pride, "I take it there's no chance of me meeting him outside on the grounds is there?"

"None at all," Snape confirmed picking his book back up, "you're still immunocompromised, which means you have to stay in these quarters. Now go to bed."

Harry gave a hard sigh, but picked his crutches up and left for his bedroom.

"It's totally barmy," Ron exclaimed once they were alone in Harry's bedroom in Snape's quarters the next day.

Harry was sitting across the bed actually dressed in clothes that couldn't be classified as pyjamas; a nice quality plain blue t-shirt and a pair of trousers that actually fit. There was a whole set of new clothes like these in the wardrobe and he suspected Snape had gotten them which was more than a little embarrassing.

Mrs. Weasley was making them all lunch, to which Snape not so nicely declined to stay. Even though Mrs. Weasley had seen Harry back at Pivot Drive, he was extremely self-conscious now that his hair was gone. Add to that, the idea of seeing Ron for the first time and he almost cancelled the whole thing. Luckily, Ron was more distracted by Snape's quarters than Harry's lack of hair and cast.

"Your room is nice though," his friend continued, "I'm sure Dumbledore made sure he didn't put you in a cupboard or something like that."

"I wouldn't go that far," Harry commented quietly letting Ron interpret that as he wanted. After all, he didn't know that Dumbledore had left him to literally live in a cupboard for 10 years. "How's your summer been?"

"Oh, it's been awesome," Ron said, not picking up on the subtle change of subject, "Fred and George have brought home all these new things to test. It's driving mum mad, I wouldn't be surprised if she starts searching them before they come over to the house from now on."

Harry laughed, a real full laugh which felt good compared to the gloomy mood he'd been in recently. No matter what they'd been through in the past, he could always count on Ron to help lighten things up.

"I wish you could see the new shop," Ron exclaimed. "It's bloody brilliant! How long do you think you'll be stuck down here?"

Harry shrugged, "Not sure to be honest; doubt I'll be able to leave as long as this-" he pointed to his cast, "- is still on. And that's at least until right before term starts."

"Rotten luck Mate, I'll be sure to bring you something from their shop next time. If you get caught though, you're on your own with Snape," Ron gave Harry a terrified look. "Then once you're feeling better you, me, and 'Mione will go check it out."

Ron went on to continue telling him all about the twins' shop and what he's already decided to sneak into the school next term. He didn't seem to care that there was no way Hermione wouldn't find out about it especially since she was staying the rest of the summer at the Burrow starting next week.

"I'm sorry about your relatives. I know you didn't like them much, for good reason," Ron finally said after they'd gotten through a handful of other topics.

Harry looked down into his lap. He hadn't talked about the attack with anyone yet. "Thanks Ron. I don't really know what I feel about it yet. I guess it's still sinking in... If nothing else, I feel bad for Dudley."

Ron looked very uncomfortable with the conversation, "Your cousin, right? Why would you feel bad for him?"

Harry frowned. Ron grew up in a big family, with both his parents alive, he would never understand what it felt like not to have them there for him.

"Well," Harry started, "besides the fact that I know what it's like not to have parents and I wouldn't wish it on anyone, he knew his parents... He knows what he lost. Yes, I miss my parents all the time, but it's still different because I don't really remember them. Not only that, Dudley changed a lot this past year."

"Wait... So you're not saying you guys actually got along?!"

"Something like that," Harry knew he would never get Ron to understand. Hermione might, but Ron couldn't. "I have to write to him at some point."

Ron just gave a small nod, clearly not sure what else to say about the topic.

"Do you know anything that's going on with Order?" Ron finally asked to fill the silence.

"No, nothing at all," Harry honestly answered, "you?"

"No," the redhead's face fell, "something's going on though, I can just tell it's something big too. Bill and Charlie have even been home, which is just strange. Y'know, since you're living with Snape..."

He trailed off as Mrs. Weasley approached the doorway.

"Ronald, you will not get involved in things that are none of your business," she lectured directly to Ron. Then turning towards Harry she said, "Lunch is ready dear. Do you need any help getting to the kitchen?"

"I'm alright Mrs. Weasley. Thank you though," he said, "for making lunch too."

"You're very welcome dear. Don't take too long," she said to Ron before leaving.

"I swear she likes you better than any of us," Ron complained.

Harry laughed again, "Well, in your defense, she doesn't actually live with me. I'm sure she'd get tired of me after a while too."

"I don't think so Mate," Ron said grabbing Harry's crutches and handing them to him. "You know, Dad's going to want to learn all about these; just warning you now."

Lunch was comfortable, even though they were sitting in Snape's kitchen, a fact that Ron had a hard time grasping. Mrs. Weasley made plates of ham sandwiches, watermelon and strawberries, crisps, and pumpkin juice. Harry was happy to still have his appetite from yesterday and ate a full lunch.

"So Harry," Mrs. Weasley asked about halfway through lunch, "have you received your O.W.L. results yet?"

Harry took a sip of pumpkin juice before answering, "No, not yet. Honestly, I'm not sure they'll know to send them here."

"Don't you worry about that, they'll get them to you," Mrs. Weasley patted his forearm as she said it.

"I'm sure 'Mione is freaking out over getting hers," Ron laughed.

The rest of the lunch was spent discussing only neutral topics like the twins' joke shop with all the new products they've been working on (Harry made a mental note not to eat anything he received from them without questioning it first), plans after Hogwarts (Auror for both of them), Hermione's plans to stay at the Burrow starting the following week (which made Harry more than a little jealous), the Chudley Cannons season, and what Harry had learned living the 24 hours in Snape's quarters (since he wasn't suicidal, he didn't say a single thing). What they didn't talk about hung over the conversation like a thick fog; the attack at Privet Drive (Harry still didn't know if anyone from the Order had been hurt or killed), Harry's cancer (though he could clearly see they had loads of questions), Voldemort, and the upcoming school year.

After lunch, Harry and Ron spent the afternoon playing wizard's chess in the sitting room until Snape returned around dinnertime. Mrs. Weasley wouldn't take no for an answer when Snape said she didn't need to prepare dinner, so they all ended up eating together at the kitchen table.

As they were finishing dinner, Snape surprised them all by asking, "Mr. Weasley, I hear you have an excellent game of chess, care to test that?"

Harry almost spit out his pumpkin juice laughing as the blood completely drained from Ron's face.

"Uh, me sir?" Ron managed to reply.

"I sure hope you didn't think I would call your mother MR. Weasley," the fact that Snape seemed amused only caused Ron to become more terrified.

Standing up, Snape waved them all into the sitting room, "Come in the sitting room, I have a very nice set handed down through my family."

Still recovering from the Privet Drive attack, Harry was exhausted but was having such a good day that he didn't want to miss this by going to bed. Chemo days would be coming back to haunt him and he wanted to soak in all he could before that started.

Ron was too nervous to say "no" once Snape set up the chess set and he gave Harry a face as if to say this might be his last night alive. Harry sat with Mrs. Weasley on the sofa, who was reading a new wizarding cooking book, while Ron proceeded to start the game with several moves even Harry knew were bad. Once he became comfortable sitting across from his most hated professor, casually playing a game of chess, he was too far gone to recover.

"Next time," Ron said with confidence as Snape put the pieces back, "I'm going to start more focused; I think I could have taken you if it weren't for the start of the game."

"Challenge accepted," Snape smirked as he replied.

"Thank you for the wonderful evening Severus," Mrs. Weasley said as she and Ron were preparing to floo back to the Burrow. "I'll see you back here on Saturday."

Harry lowered his eyebrows considering what he'd just heard but he was too tired to put much thought in that tonight since it was already half past ten o'clock. To Harry, it was a perfect day and exactly what he needed to refresh before the chemo started again; technically tomorrow with the Intrathecal.

He left to brush his teeth and then dressed in a set of comfortable red pyjamas. Everything took him longer than normal with the cast and crutches, but when he finally made it back to his room, Snape was sitting on the chair at his desk.

"I need to ask you about something I saw the other day in the hospital wing," the professor asked the moment Harry entered the bedroom.

Sitting down on the bed he asked, "Ok, what's wrong?"

Snape looked exceedingly uncomfortable which actually calmed Harry's nerves more than he expected. The older wizard spoke in a very calculated manner, "I noticed some... marks, on the top of your hand."

Harry immediately covered his right hand with his left as if that would stop this entire conversation. His breathing shallowed thinking about the detentions with Umbridge.

"Where did they come from?" Snape asked confidently.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry mumbled. "It's really not a big deal."

"I'll be the judge of if it's - as you say - a big deal or not."

This was not how he wanted to end such a great day. Why did Snape care where the words came from?

"Did you do it to yourself?" He heard the professor ask.

"What?" Harry asked quickly. First Dudley, now Snape. "No! Why would you think I did this?!"

Snape steepled his finger clearly trying to keep control of the conversation, "I know last year there was a lot of talk throughout the school about your claims with the Dark Lord's return-"

"Yeah, there was! Even the professors didn't believe me!" Harry yelled then mumbled a moment later, "or at least one didn't."

"Professors?" Snape raised one eyebrow in question. "Are you saying a professor did that?"

Harry didn't answer, but he knew he didn't have to. Snape was smart enough to figure it out on his own. He tightened his lips into a scowl as if to show he wasn't going to complain.

As realization hit the professor's eyes, he simply said, "Umbridge I take it?"

He didn't want to answer, but staring into the professor's eyes filled with rage that for once wasn't directed at him, but instead for him, he finally nodded. "In detention, she had this quill," he added, "and whenever I did lines, it would scratch what I was writing into my hand as the words appeared on the paper."

"A blood quill," Snape sounded defeated. "Of course she'd use dark magic on students."

Snape reached out and grabbed Harry's right hand and closely examined the scars. They would never go away, a permanent reminder to the young Gryffindor about one of his most horrific years at Hogwarts.

"How many detentions did you have? And why didn't you tell anyone?"

Of course it's my fault.

"I told Ron and Hermione," he admitted, "and yes they told me to go to McGonagall or Dumbledore, but I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of hearing me complain about it. Hermione used Murtlap Essence on them, but this is what was left."

Neither professor nor student made a sound, however Harry could see the rage still behind Snape's dark eyes. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about the situation that had already happened. Harry really just wanted to ignore it altogether.

"I have to tell the Headmaster," the professor said, sad that this was yet another example of how the adults in Harry's short life had failed him. "He needs to be aware of the situation and he can handle it how he sees fit, even if that means going to the ministry."

There was nothing Harry could say to change Snape's mind. Had it only been himself subjected to the blood quill, he'd argue if that was really necessary, but he'd lose that argument now that Snape knew it was done in detention. Instead, he just moved to stare out the enchanted window.

"We'll be meeting Healer Smithe in the hospital wing at half past nine o'clock tomorrow morning," the potions professor said. Even now that they were away from Privet Drive, Harry still thought he looked exhausted and silently questioned if he would get more rest now that we're back at Hogwarts.

"We can't he do it here sir?"

"Since the intrathecal is done into the spinal cord, he would be more comfortable with it being done in the hospital wing."

"That's fair," Harry commented, not looking forward to the morning. "I'm pretty sure Ron almost had a heart attack playing chess against you. I swear he's usually better than he was tonight."

"I don't doubt that," Snape said casually, standing up, "where I'm from, we were usually pretty evenly matched. I wouldn't expect any difference here."

"So that's what you meant before; it had nothing to do with the Philosopher's Stone." Of course Harry was referring to when the professor alluded to Ron's chess skills only a couple weeks ago.

"Yes. Mr. Weasley and I have played many games of chess throughout the years," Snape walked away to the door. "Good night Harry."

"Good night, professor."

"So what have you been meeting so often with Dumbledore about?" Harry asked casually.

They had just finished breakfast; Harry opting for a lighter meal of porridge with fruit and granola along with a glass of orange juice which was such a pleasant surprise - since he'd never seen any at the castle during the school year - that he didn't care how awful it would be to sick it up later. He had a suspicion that Snape purchased it himself from a muggle shop.

"Why do you think it's any of your business?"

Harry frowned. In the short time he'd spent with Snape, he quickly learned the professor liked to answer a question with a question. It was outright annoying sometimes.

"Since I'm the one with a prophecy about me to kill Voldemort, I'm pretty sure anything about the war involves me. It's not like I expect you'll tell me anyway, but it was worth a try."

"Au contraire," Snape started, putting down the Daily Prophet, an interesting choice Harry hadn't expected his professor to be caught dead reading, "if this last year has taught us anything, it is that you do better with select information than none at all."

Harry would have gotten angry if Snape hadn't practically admitted, for the second time this summer, that he would tell Harry some information if it was warranted, which was better than Dumbledore telling him none at all. It was almost worth living in the dungeon quarters; maybe Ron was on to something.

"This, however," Snape continued taking a careful sip of coffee, "does not concern you nor your prophecy."

Harry thought the Potions Master seemed nervous and for some reason guessed it had to do with his spying duties. While no one flat out told him Snape was discovered as a traitor to Voldemort, he knew enough to guess something like that had probably happened. Every time Snape needed to leave now it was always to see Dumbledore and to Harry's knowledge he hadn't been summoned since Privet Drive. Before the attack, Snape was called at least every week. Something was up and if he didn't already have enough to focus on, he probably would have pushed harder to find out. As it was, he had plenty to keep his mind from wandering too far.

"Fine," Harry cringed just knowing that Snape would not like that response. "Can we please go and get this over with?"

Snape gave a hard sigh, "Absolutely, after you."

With his leg in a cast, Harry couldn't floo to the hospital wing, so they walked upstairs in silence. He really couldn't imagine having to navigate this every day, so he was silently thankful that if something like this had to happen, it was over the summer. Of course that didn't stop the school ghosts or Peeves from watching and commenting - not so silently in Peeves' case - on him hobbling throughout the castle.

By the time he got to the hospital wing, where both Madam Pomfrey and Healer Smithe were waiting near a bed with a tray of medical equipment on the left side, he remembered that the only time he'd had this particular procedure done was when his port was put in. This time, he wouldn't be sleeping for it. Suddenly, where he was usually anxious to get treatments over with, he was now so nervous he thought he might see his breakfast earlier than expected.

"Good morning Mister Potter," Madam Pomfrey greeted him with an apologetic look in her eyes, while showing him to the bed. Harry thought this must be strange for the matron, having to do so many muggle procedures.

"Morning," Harry mumbled, taking a seat and feeling like he was in a fish bowl with everyone watching him. Facing his healer, he asked "Can you walk me through this one again?"

"Of course," Healer Smithe stepped up to the side of the bed. "This will be done almost exactly like the spinal tap we did before you started treatments, but instead of taking fluids out I'll be injecting them in. For this one, you'll be laying on your left side in the fetal position, which will be much more comfortable when fluids are going in."

Harry went to lay down, but was stopped by the healer.

"Before we start," he explained, "we need to do a blood test and I'd like to get you started on the antiemetic. You didn't take the tablet this morning, correct?"

Harry had started back on his daily medications once his fever broke in the hospital wing, but he hadn't restarted that one yet. He luckily hadn't needed it and the dread immediately returned thinking that he would once again be sick.

"No sir, I haven't."

"Good. If it's ok with you," Healer Smithe continued while taking out the supplies needed for the blood sample and his antiemetic medication, "I'd like Madam Pomfrey to help out specifically with the port. She'll be giving me a hand with the chemo this week and throughout your school year."

It wasn't like he really had much of a choice, but they had warned him that she'd be involved at some point, so he didn't complain. He just nodded and leaned back on the pillows allowing the healer to walk the medi-witch through how to draw blood and hook up the medications. His cheeks flushed when Madam Pomfrey started cleaning the port and flushing it out with the saline solution, which was done each time before it was used. At this point Harry was comfortable with the whole process, but he was still a little embarrassed about it all, especially when someone saw him or his port for the first time.

In hindsight, he was happy he had been asleep during the first Intrathecal chemo because it really was an awful feeling. Having been through everything this last month, he now knew what to expect and that seemed to make it harder to sit still during the procedure. Eventually, Snape had to hold his neck and legs and when they finally made it through, Healer Smithe recommended the next time to use a type of muggle light sedation medication on him beforehand. Harry was again required to stay flat to allow the medication to distribute, which was a visual he could have done without.

By the time he'd made it back to Snape's quarters, it was past lunchtime and he picked at the scrambled eggs Snape had prepared. According to Healer Smithe, scrambled eggs was one of the best foods to try during chemo, the next being the smoothies.

"I think I'm going to lay down for a bit," he finally said, giving up on his lunch.

"I'll help get you settled," Snape said, standing up holding a muggle cup with a lid and straw full of water and a smoothie to supplement the uneaten lunch. Harry did not like being treated as a toddler, which was exactly how he was feeling right now.

"I don't need help," Harry complained. It was a second too late because he went to grab the cup, but couldn't figure out how to take both cups into his bedroom using the crutches. This would not be an issue if he could use magic, of course he wouldn't have the bloody cast to begin with if he could use magic anyway.

"Fine," he conceded, sounding defeated, leaving the kitchen for his bedroom.

Harry had just gotten settled into bed, with the pail next to him just in case, when a piece of parchment popped up in front of Snape. Harry tried to sneak a peek to see who had arrived at the door and was able to catch Dumbledore and what he thought was Malfoy before Snape incinerated the parchment - nonverbally and wandlessly, of course. After making sure Harry had the sphere for emergencies, he abruptly left. The Gryffindor resisted the urge to go eavesdrop, he was far too tired anyway.

~~~~SS~~~~

Thursday evening after getting Harry settled from the IT chemo, Severus was in his personal potions laboratory trying - and if he was honest with himself, failing - to prepare the new stock of potions for the hospital wing. He'd uncharacteristically let the calming draught he was working on boil too long in the cauldron and was now on his 3rd attempt. His mind kept going back to the last several days he'd spent with Albus and unfortunately Moody.

At first, they had been focusing on strategizing ways to get Severus back in the Dark Lord's good standing. Without someone on the inside, to not only ascertain information on Voldemort's plans but also feed strategically misleading information to him, they were at a disadvantage they could not afford this early into the war. However, without knowing exactly what Dolohov reported back, it was an extremely dangerous mission; one that neither he nor Albus were ready to attempt yet. Then there was the fact that he had not been summoned since the failed attack, which was definitely not a good sign for his future in espionage. He would almost rather have gotten summoned, taken his punishment, and worked his way out with an explanation for fighting against one of their own. He could have easily turned the situation around in his favor, but everyday that went by without getting that opportunity, the more hopeless that situation became.

In a matter of only a few weeks, he'd managed to derail his counterpart's position and that made him furious with himself. He couldn't tell if his allegiance had been discovered prior to the attack, but even if it had, he could have handled the situation better. He hadn't been thinking straight that night and now their side was being penalized for it.

At the top of all his thoughts, at least as high as Harry at this time, was the Malfoy situation. On Monday, Severus was called to Grimmauld Place where he was surprised to see Draco Malfoy bound to a chair with Albus and Moody standing on either side of him. It took a second to read this situation and not react to it immediately, just in case it was somehow a test.

"Severus," the headmaster greeted him, drawing the professor into the dining room, "young Mr. Malfoy contacted me last night with an interesting proposition that we'd like your expert opinion on."

Narrowing his eyes, he quickly went through the recent memories he had of Draco Malfoy in this reality and sighed in relief that their relationship was more or less the same as his old reality.

"And what proposition is this," he asked, meeting Albus's sharp blue eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy has told us that he's to take the dark mark at the start of next month," Albus explained with calculated words. Severus looked warily at Draco trying not to feel sympathy for his Slytherin student. Unfortunately, it was not surprising to hear no matter how much he wished to prevent such an occurrence in any of his Slytherins. "And apparently he has heard of your position, or now lack thereof, and has offered to fill in your place."

Severus didn't trust any of the Malfoy's and did not have any qualms stating so, "My expert opinion on the matter is that knowing the Dark Lord as I do, he would likely orchestrate this exact scenario as a way to infiltrate the Order. Do not forget, he lost what he assumed was his informant as well. He would go through great lengths to get another in my place."

Draco didn't flinch when Severus came to meet him nose to nose and in his dark baritone voice the professor asked, "Why should we trust a single thing you tell us?

"You're absolutely right," Draco called out, confidence dripping from his voice, "he wants me placed here to spy for him, but I don't want to do it! He's going to lose and then what? He won't come and help when all his followers end up in Azkaban."

Severus couldn't help thinking back to how he must have appeared to Albus on the night he asked for help protecting Lily. Why had Albus eventually trusted him? How was that any different than what Draco was claiming now? Was it because he was trying to save someone else and Draco's was pure self-preservation? In the end, even after using targeted Legilimency, the simple fact was that it could be detrimental to trust Draco. Until they could know for sure, Draco was to stay at Grimmauld place under strict guards.

That was where Severus spent the day yesterday, while Molly and Ron visited with Harry. Albus finally consented to the use of Veritaserum, which Draco had been asking to use to prove his true intentions. After a grueling interrogation - even one Severus would not want to be subjected to - they could not find any reason to believe the blonde teenager had been dishonest. While it was true that Draco's first mission from the Dark Lord was to gain the Order's trust, Draco indeed believed that Voldemort will be defeated and he didn't want to go down with him. Not the best or most stable reason to trust Draco, but in the end Severus didn't think Draco would have been able to withstand the last couple of days plus the interrogation if he hadn't truly wanted to help them.

It left Severus exactly one week to work with Draco and get him ready to stand beside the darkest wizard of their time with every intention to betray him, all while not getting himself killed; and of course it had to be the same week Harry was starting the continuous chemo. Just thinking about it all gave him a migraine; it was no wonder he couldn't concentrate on brewing a potion he taught to his fourth years.

It didn't take long to come to the conclusion that he needed to ask for help. Since only he could get Draco up to the standard he needed to be, and that was going to be a stretch to begin with, that left few options for Harry. He hated the idea of leaving Harry at the hospital wing under Madam Pomfrey's care - and Harry would hate it even more - so he had asked Mrs. Weasley for help. He figured that she was probably the only person Harry would feel comfortable around him during his chemo, however no matter how much Severus tried to justify it to himself, it still felt like he was passing off his responsibility for Harry.

"Severus," the Potions Master heard from the doorway bringing his thoughts back to the present. It was Draco coming down the stairs into the lab.

"Come in Draco," he said pointedly. "Take a seat and make yourself useful."

There wasn't another student, besides maybe Hermione Granger and one or two seventh years, he would trust to assist in his professional brewing, giving him no doubts Draco could help. The list of whom he could tolerate brewing with was practically non-existent, but Draco was here and he needed to get started on the hospital wing supplies being already so far behind.

"Do you think the headmaster believes me?" Draco asked much more nervously than either of his parents would want to hear from their child.

"I think had he not, you'd still be bound in that chair or worse, handed over to the Aurors," he wasn't going to start sugar coating things for Draco Malfoy. "Do you understand what you're getting yourself into?"

"Well, I don't really have much of a choice do I?"

"Of course you do," he sternly replied, stopping Draco from using too much lavender for the calming draught. "If you cannot concentrate, do not touch anything."

"He'll kill my mother and you know it," Draco continued, "if I don't take the mark."

"We can hide you both. The Order can," Severus explained solemnly. "He'd never find you."

Draco shrugged which was again not a gesture acceptable for any Malfoy. It showed the professor how disturbed his Slytherin was with the situation.

"You wouldn't do that," Draco was staring down at the mortar he was using almost too aggressively.

"You, Draco, are thankfully not me," Severus said honestly. "There's no shame in waiting this out; having a sense of self-preservation."

"That's interesting coming from the head of Slytherin," Draco spat back. "Why didn't you hide then?"

The former spy took a deep breath and ran his hand across his forehead wishing he could physically push his headache back, "My reasoning is between myself and the Headmaster."

A strained silence fell upon the room as Severus assumed Draco was running down the possible reasons he could have had to defect from the Dark Lord.

"No one knew," Draco broke the silence, "what side you were on." He added quickly.

"Well, that was the point of it all."

"I don't even know if the Dark Lord believes it now or not."

"Until I'm summoned, which after this long I would probably choose not to answer, there's nothing I can do about it either way."

Draco finally met his Head of House's eyes, "That's the only reason you're not fighting me about this right? You know you need someone on the inside."

"We - Draco - don't forget what side you've placed yourself on now," he warned the young blonde in front of him, "and yes, I do believe we need someone on the inside. However, I'm hesitant to think a 16 year old boy should be that person."

"But there's no one else! I'm in the perfect position to do this. Plus you weren't much older than I am now when you started."

Severus didn't reply to that statement, no good could come from agreeing or disagreeing with the teenager.

Instead he changed the subject, "While the room you'll be staying in this week is technically connected to my quarters, remember you'll be under the Headmaster's watch at all times. Take that seriously. Where does your mother think you will be staying?"

"She hardly keeps track of me anymore, usually just leaves that to the house elves," Draco grumbled, "but she knows about my mission for the Dark Lord, and thinks I'm with Zambini before taking the mark."

Severus thought about what that implied about Narcissa, but in the end he knew she'd do anything to protect her son. So even if Draco's excuse was weak, at best, she wouldn't turn him over to the Dark Lord should she discover his change of allegiance.

The potions were finally completed and ready to bottle only a short time later. Draco stepped in to help bottle and cork each one then affixed the labels appropriately. That task alone was a tedious one, which Severus was grateful for the assistance.

Draco put away the last empty phial, turned to Severus and asked, "What's wrong with Potter?"

The potions professor looked at his student skeptically not giving away how heavy of a question that was, "Why do you think something is wrong?"

"Well, he's staying at the castle isn't he?"

"Obviously. His home was destroyed only last week," Severus held his hand up to prevent the younger Slytherin from interrupting him. "It does not concern you. Lesson one, do not get involved in things that do not directly concern you; it will only distract you from your actual goals."

Draco clenched his teeth, then went to speak, but the sphere that had been sitting on the table turned bright orange. Severus looked down at the sphere, then dismissed Draco to his room before the blonde could make a single comment. This was going to be an extremely complicated week.

~~~~HP~~~~

There was one thing Harry hadn't considered since arriving at Snape's quarters; with his broken leg he could not get to the loo quickly when he needed to sick up. It made for an extremely uncomfortable day for the young wizard. Fortunately, Snape came up with the idea to charm the pail so once vomit hit it, it would immediately clean itself out. This definitely made things a little better because the first 2 times Harry needed to use the pail, he'd accidentally dropped it trying to carry it to the lavatory with his crutches. This week was not looking good for him.

He spent most of his time awake thinking about which Malfoy had visited Snape's quarters. Since Lucius was in Azkaban, it was either Draco or Narcissa and in the end, he was certain it had to be Draco. What he couldn't figure out was why his nemesis would be here in the middle of the summer holiday. He went through about half a dozen scenarios in his head, none of which sounded plausible. The Gryffindor had no idea that just that afternoon, another door was added to the sitting room next to Snape's office and potions lab for Draco. It was hidden within the bookcases with hope that neither boy would have any reason to know of the others presence.

By midnight, although no closer to solving the Draco question, he finally finished his letter to Dudley. He placed the letter on the edge of his desk as a reminder to ask Snape to send it in the morning. In the letter, he apologized to Dudley for his role in his parents' death which was awkward; it probably would have been easier in person, but he doubted he'd see his cousin anytime soon. He also made sure to tell Dudley he appreciated their new found friendship, and that he hoped to keep in contact. Harry genuinely wanted to be able to visit with his cousin again since he was actually missing the time they had spent together.

He was able to fall into a restful sleep, which is exactly what his body needed before the week ahead. By seven o'clock the next morning, Harry was up and at the kitchen table trying unsuccessfully to avoid breakfast yet again. Snape was back to making him smoothies and was intent on watching him finish most of it. Mealtimes were easily becoming his least favorite part of the day.

"Take these," Snape said, sitting down the small cup of medications when a piece of parchment popped onto the table announcing Healer Smithe's and Madam Pomfrey's arrival.

"Here we go," Harry complained going back into his bedroom after taking his tablets.

Healer Smithe was once again going to walk Madam Pomfrey through how to administer the chemo using his port so that they could rotate who would come by throughout the week, at all hours of the day, to change the bags. The healer explained how it was important for the medi-witch to always wear special gloves when handling the medication because they were extremely toxic if it made contact with her skin. After all this time, Harry hadn't known that fact and suddenly the awful side effects made a bit more sense to him when envisioning what was happening when it entered his body.

"Will I be able to move around?" Harry asked what was sure to sound like a stupid question.

"Technically... yes," Healer Smithe tentatively answered, "but the stand has to go with you, so you'll need someone to help because of the crutches."

"That figures," Harry mumbled. Leave it to him to need a shadow all week and just like that his mood plummeted.

"I don't anticipate you'll want to, but just in case - you can't bathe during the actual treatments," his healer added. "You should plan on doing that in the hour break you get between sessions."

Harry didn't even nod an acknowledgement for that one. Where he currently stood, he couldn't care less if he bathed at all throughout the week.

"What comes after this week?"

"Well," Healer Smithe started, "you'll get one more intrathecal after this chemo round is completed and we'll do another bone marrow biopsy at the same time to see if remission has been reached. Then you'll get a week off to recover and get your blood cell counts back up. Assuming I don't see any more cancer cells in the biopsy, then we'll move to the next phase."

Harry looked over to Snape for some reason unknown to himself. It was like having someone beside him during this was helping make him stronger, "And what if there are still cancer cells?"

The healer paused working on getting Harry set up, to give the teen his full attention, "Then we start the induction phase again, likely with different medications this time."

Oh, that sounded frustratingly like starting over. Honestly, there wasn't much he could do to impact it one way or another though, so he tried not to dwell too much over it; he would cross that bridge when he got there.

By nine o'clock that morning, he was hooked up to the first bag of chemo medication having finished the antiemetic. His schedule for the next seven days was 9am - 7am chemo, one hour break, 8am - 9am supplemental medications such as the antiemetic and morphine, before starting back on the chemo. From his experience, the supplemental medications would not last anywhere near the full 24 hours and luckily Healer Smithe anticipated his unspoken question - should the tablet versions not help, they would add a separate IV line for those. While it was nice that a contingency plan was ready, Harry didn't like the fact that they thought he would need it.

Once Healer Smithe and Madam Pomfrey left, Harry was laying across his bed without much else to do. For as busy as the morning was, now that everything was set up and all the questions were answered, it was very quiet with only himself and Snape.

"Since you can't get around on your own," Snape broke the silence, "someone will be in the quarters with you at all times. I've changed the charmed sphere to be a general alert to whoever is here as well as a duplicate alert directly to me."

Wait, so Snape doesn't plan on being here?

"Where are you going to be?"

"Unfortunately Professor Dumbledore has time-sensitive work for the Order I need to complete. I'll be in the castle at all times, but I may not be in our quarters.

"I've arranged for Mrs. Weasley to be here tomorrow as unfortunately I'll be gone most of the day. I'll know more about the requirements once tomorrow is completed."

Harry couldn't help but feel a little twinge of regret that the professor wouldn't be here through all of this. He didn't know when they had crossed the line from pure hatred to - well, whatever this was; Harry couldn't put a name to it exactly - but deep down he wanted Snape here.

The professor and student spent the morning playing chess and going over Harry's summer assignments he had started so far. He grudgingly thought it was nice to have someone to look over his work before handing it in. Yes, Hermione always looked over his essays, but he couldn't help feeling bad because she had her own assignments to work on plus Ron's and his to read through. Conveniently, neither mentioned the Potions assignment.

By lunchtime, Harry was feeling like he was going to die. Yes, he knew that was an exaggeration, as Snape pointed out, but that didn't help him work through the nausea, vomiting, and pain. A piece of parchment popped up alerting them to Madam Pomfrey's arrival. Harry barely noticed her presence to change out his medication, but managed to fall asleep shortly after her departure.

~~~~SS~~~~

Each night since starting the continuous treatment had been worse than the last. Harry was either in too much pain, too nauseated, or too worked up to sleep, and even though he never asked Severus to stay up with him, he could tell the young wizard was grateful for the company. So together they would spend every night moving from Harry's bedroom to the sitting room and back trying to find ways to pass the time before Harry would finally be too tired and fall asleep.

The delicate balance Severus had put together came crashing down on Sunday night, or technically it was early Monday morning. Harry had just completed his 60th hour of chemo and yet again they found themselves moving from the bedroom back into the sitting room for the third time that night. Severus settled his young charge onto the sofa, lifting his casted leg up onto the coffee table - something he would normally not allow - and wrapped a blanket around Harry's upper body trying to help keep him warm.

"Why does everything in me hurt?" Harry had been trying to be so positive about this whole process, trying not to complain, but Severus could tell he was now at the end of his resolve.

"Let's play some chess, it will help distract you until the morphine starts working again," Severus pulled out the chess board and started to set it up knowing it was futile.

"I don't want to play anymore bloody chess!"

"Harry," he said sitting down next to the teen on the sofa, "you've got this. I'll call Healer Smithe and he can put the IV line for the morphine if you need it."

"No," Harry said so quietly the professor almost didn't hear him; his body trembling. "I want this to stop; I'm done, I can't do it anymore."

Harry had his head cradled in his hands and Severus could hear him struggling to keep the tears away. This left Severus with a heavy heart reminding him of those last couple of weeks in his old reality, but he kept reminding himself that at least this time they were actively fighting against the cancer, not just waiting for Harry to die.

"You can't stop now."

"It's my body," Harry lifted his head, meeting Severus in the eyes and there was no hiding the fact he'd been crying. "I don't want to do it anymore."

"You're still considered a minor child," Severus explained carefully, "you cannot make a decision like this solely on your own."

"So you're going to force me? What are you going to do, drag me to the Healer?" Harry spat back, not too dissimilar from the way the Harry from his reality fought against the muggle treatment. "Are you going to hold me down while he stabs the needle into my chest? It's so easy for everyone else to say I can make it and I'm doing great, but you guys aren't doing this! You have no idea what this feels like!"

Severus used his Occlumency to remain focused on what needed to be done; to get through the night. In his old reality he had parental consent over Harry and here being his medical proxy gave him some rights but he had no idea how much, especially because Harry was already 16.

"All I ask of you is that you do not make this type of decision at your lowest point. If you still feel strongly when you're feeling well again, then I promise we can discuss other treatment options with your healer."

Severus didn't know what from his answer triggered it - maybe the fact that he would eventually get a choice - but Harry hung his head in his hands and started crying. When Severus saw the small, almost imperceptible nod, he let go of the breath he'd been holding for far too long. It was in that moment, when he laid his arm across Harry's back, that Severus felt his Occlumency shields crack and a single tear escaped his eyes representing all the grief, frustration, and now relief he had locked up inside of himself. They may have made it by this hurdle, but how many more were coming up.

By Monday evening, Severus didn't think there was a time he had been any more exhausted than at that moment. Trying to coordinate between Draco's training and Harry's health was becoming too much for the normally well put together, stoic man. He couldn't continue training Draco during the day and then be up all night with Harry. Molly was already coming over most of the days during the late morning and into the afternoon to stay with Harry while he trained Draco and he couldn't ask anymore of her. He considered skipping a day training with Draco, but if this afternoon was any indication, Draco couldn't afford to take any time off, which left Severus with few options.

Draco was having a difficult time concentrating that afternoon during their advanced Occlumency lesson, which caused an already irritated Severus to completely lose his patience with his student. He knew Draco had been given more than the basic Occlumency lessons at home, which caused Draco to be far more arrogant than usual. When he badgered Severus to really test his limits beyond what they've practiced and, as expected, his defenses absolutely crumbled, he then accused Severus of not giving him a realistic test. In the end, Severus stormed out of the office and Draco knew better than to follow.

He came back into his quarters later than usual. Most days, he tried to be back by half past three which is when Harry's medication was changed and then he would immediately start dinner, primarily for himself as Harry was surviving off smoothies and the odd snack here or there. Today he wasn't back until ten past five o'clock and hoped to Merlin Harry was asleep. He didn't think he could keep a clear head after the frustrating afternoon he'd had. To his delight, he found Molly in the kitchen pouring bowls of stew for dinner.

"Severus! Perfect timing," she greeted him cheerfully, "dinner is ready; sit down."

She waved her wand and a chair moved back making room for the professor to take a seat as a bowl of stew was levitated over to him.

"Thank you Molly," he said, picking up his spoon. "I'm sorry for being late."

"It's not a problem," she waved her hand at him. "You have plenty of other things on your mind right now, I don't need to be one of them."

Molly sat down at the other end of the table with her own bowl of stew and bread. They sat in a companionable silence and Severus thought it had to be odd for the witch as it's not something his counterpart would have done. If she had any suspicion about him acting differently, she never mentioned it; of course Molly probably wouldn't.

"How was today?" Severus asked, no other explanation needed between them.

"It was rough," she said honestly, "but we managed. Healer Smithe came by to add the other line."

"Hopefully that will help. Has he eaten?" The last week of chemo before the attack was hard on Harry's eating, so he'd been very aware of how much or little he was eating now.

"I managed to coax enough into him," she smiled. "Did I tell you Charlie came home for the summer?"

The professor frowned, while they'd been friendly with each other for Harry's benefit, they definitely were not small-talk level friends.

"No, you hadn't," he wasn't sure where this conversation was headed, but he knew the 2nd eldest Weasley rarely visited.

"After the Department of Mysteries, when Ron and Ginny were..." She sighed as if it actually hurt her to explain it. Severus nodded his understanding to spare her. "Well, it seems he wants to fight now."

Severus gave a small chuckle, "We can use all the help we can get. I'm sure Albus is happy to have him join."

"Oh, he definitely is," Molly explained a look of sadness crossing her face, "but that's not why I told you. We've got a full house back home right now, with him plus Bill and Fleur, so if you'd like I don't mind staying tonight to help you out. No offense, but you look like your candle is completely burnt out at both ends."

The professor rubbed his forehead, "Are you sure?"

"Of course Severus," Molly smiled at him, "Harry is as good as one of my own children. I just hate there isn't much else I can do for him."

"Thank you Molly, I would very much appreciate that."

She stood up and squeezed his shoulder and said before walking out of the kitchen, "Wonderful. I'll go firecall Arthur now and let him know."

Severus tried not to feel guilty, but it didn't work. The Severus of this reality had spent most of his time hating and avoiding people at any and all costs and yet the Weasley matriarch had no qualms helping him out. He was so grateful, more than he'd ever be able to express to her in words.

He started the dishes washing and went to Harry's room giving Molly some privacy at the floo. Harry was thankfully sleeping and appeared peaceful for once. Whenever Severus asked Alton if Harry's reaction to the Chemotherapy was normal, the healer always came back with each person reacts differently plus with Harry being a strong wizard, there could be a chance it's exacerbating the side effects. To him, that sounded like he had no idea, which was almost more frustrating.

By 7pm, he was sitting in the armchair by the fireplace with Molly on the sofa. He was working on next year's curriculum which was due to the Board of Governors next week and Molly was knitting, when the sphere glowed orange. Severus was about to get up but Molly immediately scolded him to sit back down.

Placing the curriculum work down he leaned back and closed his eyes. He could fall asleep almost instantly right there on the armchair, but not only would it be extremely inappropriate, he had heard a door open from across the room.

"Who's there?" He knew who it was; only one other person had direct access into his quarters without using the front door, which would have alerted him, or the floo to his left.

"Um, sorry to bother you Severus," Draco sounded nervous, which was unbecoming of him.

The former spy opened his eyes to Draco standing behind the sofa, "You cannot simply enter my quarters unannounced. Please give me the courtesy of knocking or using the front door."

"I just wanted to ask you a question about our lesson today."

Severus stared at the blonde Slytherin and then gestured Draco towards the kitchen. On his way there, he glanced down the hallway where he could hear Harry vomiting once again. Not remembering if had told Molly about the ginger ale he bought yesterday on a quick trip back to Spinner's End, he went to the cabinet to grab a glass of it.

"Take a seat," he told Draco, summoning a bowl that he filled with stew and heated with a warming charm before placing it at Draco's setting. "I'll be right back and then we'll discuss what you failed to understand this afternoon."

Maybe he was being too harsh on the teen, but if he couldn't handle a little push from Severus, he'd break apart in front of the Dark Lord. Severus justified to himself that everything he did was to keep Draco alive. One day, unfortunately, the Slytherin would understand.

"You're supposed to be resting," Molly lectured when he walked into Harry's room. The young wizard's face was drawn and pallid with dark circles under both eyes and he was sitting up leaning over the edge of the bed taking short, shaky breaths.

"I wanted to drop this off," he held out the glass. "It's a muggle drink made with ginger. It seemed to help a bit the last time."

Molly took the glass and sniffed it, only slightly offending the Potions Master. She then handed it to Harry.

"Thank you sir," Harry said just above a whisper. "I'll be ok, go get some sleep. You look awful."

"Like you should talk," he argued back. "If you need me, I'll be in the kitchen."

Harry nodded, which turned out to be the wrong thing to do because just as Severus was walking out the door back to Draco, he started vomiting once again. Severus closed his eyes hoping for some relief for the young man soon.

He was calmer than he had been when he'd left Draco alone in his office after their training session, so with any luck he'd at least get something accomplished with Draco today. As much as he didn't like the idea of Draco spying, it was really the best option for the Order and the least he could do was get Draco in a position to succeed.

"So there's nothing wrong Potter huh? Sure doesn't sound it... and why the hell is Potter staying here?!" Draco asked the moment Severus walked into the kitchen.

"It doesn't concern you," he replied, taking Draco's empty bowl to the sink.

"I don't know about that. I am risking my life for him; I feel like I should at least have all the information," Draco said smugly.

"With your abysmal occlumency, you're lucky to get the small amount of information you already have," Severus warned, getting worked up yet again, "What do you think would happen if the Dark Lord saw something detrimental to our side all because you thought you had the right to know?

"Get that righteous notion out of your head immediately Draco. From now on you're entitled to absolutely nothing, but you'll be expected to give everything; you'll do things that you will regret, that will make you sick, but have to turn around and appear to enjoy it all; you'll wish you could forget, but no matter how hard you try, you'll remember every face and every name of those you couldn't save. You'll be criticized and ostracized from both sides and the more that happens, the better the job you are doing. You'll need to be able to tell just enough of the truth not to get killed while protecting the important information with your life, and at the same time you will need to lie in a way that makes your audience believe they never had a reason to doubt you to begin with.

"If you don't think you can do all of that without knowing everyone else's business first, then you better walk out of here right now and stop wasting my time," Severus slammed his hand on the table directly in front of Draco once he finished.

"Merlin Severus," Draco said startled, "I was just asking since he's the pillar of our side, you would think if something were wrong with him, we should know."

"You're not to ask again, do you hear me? If you do, I'll go right up the Headmaster's office and tell him you're the wrong person for this job. Now get up so we can discuss just how much your supposed Occlumency skills were lacking today. "

"Yes sir," Draco finally said with a scowl on his face.

He followed his Head of House out of the kitchen back into the sitting room, realizing without a doubt that whatever was wrong with Potter was not only serious, but something the Dark Lord definitely shouldn't know about. Naturally, Draco was determined to find out exactly what it was.

30th July, 1996

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Was his Patronus a doe?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Severus?"

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

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

~~~~SS~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What happened?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"From Miss. Granger no doubt?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry gave him a grim look.

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~HP~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh hell no-"

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

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

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

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

"Yes, sir."

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

"Understood, sir."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I never said you should."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~AU SS~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Do you normally wait up for your birthday?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately for Harry, he woke up on the morning of his birthday feeling absolutely dreadful. Since Snape still had to work with Malfoy in the afternoon, Mrs. Weasley would be stopping by to stay with him. Even though Snape didn't agree, he'd told her that Ron and Hermione could join her at Harry's insistence. Being able to see his friends on his birthday would help him forget how sick he was feeling after having a day like yesterday and knowing Ron and Hermione, they would want to be here with him regardless of how sick he was.

So that morning, once he had a small breakfast and his healer left, Harry excused himself to try to get some sleep. With only two days left of his induction chemo, he really just wanted to do whatever he could to get through it; and right now that meant sleeping as much as possible and getting to visit with his friends. Snape was keeping a closer than normal eye on the young wizard picking up on the fact that Harry was feeling frustrated for the seemingly backwards step in his recovery.

He awoke right around lunchtime to the smell of flowers, specifically lilies, in his room. He could hear whispering throughout the room that could only be his two best friends. Peeking his eyes open, Hermione and Ron were sitting on the floor beside his bed and appeared to be reading, and discussing something Harry couldn't make out; neither aware that he was awake.

"Hey guys," his voice cracked as he sat up on his elbows. If possible, he felt worse than when he fell asleep.

"Harry!" Hermione called out standing up so quickly the book on her lap crashed to the floor with a loud bang. Harry cringed at the noise echoing against the stone walls.

"Calm down 'Moine," Ron laughed at her customary hysterical greeting.

"I've just been so worried and it's so good to finally see you," Hermione handed Harry his glasses then sat down on the bed right next to him, "I've been researching all about Leukemia and Harry it's so rare for a wizard to get."

"Yeah," Harry half smirked instantly feeling more comfortable with his two best friends next to him, "I think I've heard something like that."

"Of course you have," she sounded embarrassed, "I didn't mean..."

"It's fine Hermione, seriously."

"Happy birthday Mate," Ron said standing up and pulling a chair next to the bed. "We wanted to have a small party, but Mum said it wasn't a good time. Once you're feeling better though, we'll make it up to you."

"I don't doubt that," Harry was playing with a small thread from his bedspread, "I have a feeling Snape wouldn't be too happy with the Weasley clan filling up his quarters anyway."

"You're probably right... The git," Ron laughed lightly.

"What were you guys doing?" Harry asked, trying to change the subject.

"Can you believe Ronald hasn't even started on his summer assignments?" Hermione lectured completely appalled that he hadn't even looked at them.

"Oh c'mon," Ron whined, "I'm sure Harry hasn't started his either!"

"Well, he has a good reason, don't you think."

"Actually," Harry interrupted, "I have all of them at least started except Potions. And that's only because I didn't want to start an essay when I might not get into the NEWT class."

Hermione glared at Ron, then they all started laughing. Harry held back a grimace from the pain; it felt so good to laugh, he didn't care that it hurt to do so.

"Oh, Harry you reminded me-" Ron groaned at Hermione's exclamation, "Have you gotten your O.W.L. results yet?" Leave it to Hermione to ask about schoolwork and test marks on his birthday.

He shook his head going with his standard answer, "I don't think they're going to know where to send them. And it's not like they matter too much anyway, I don't even know what classes will look like for me now."

"Don't say something like that Mate," Ron laughed, "Hermione might have fit."

"Seriously," the bushy haired Gryffindor said, "we got ours this morning, I bet yours either got here this morning too or will be here tomorrow."

She seemed way too excited to Harry, but he knew this was the kind of thing she lived for so he didn't comment on it.

"I take it you did amazing?" Harry asked.

Hermione blushed, "Well..."

"Of course she did!" Ron interrupted with a hint of pride in his voice. "She got O's on 'em all."

"No. I only got an E in Defense."

Ron just rolled his eyes at that. The three Gryffindors sat around talking and Harry tried to make it feel like it could have been any normal day, except it was far from normal. Ron had to help to get Harry to the loo and back, which was a significant improvement over Mrs. Weasley - he couldn't quite relax enough with her sitting outside the door listening in on him. Then, when he started getting nauseous and sicked up a couple of times, Hermione was right beside him with a glass of water so he could rinse his mouth; all the while amazed at how Snape managed to charm the bucket to self-clean.

They had lunch with Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen and Harry was surprised to find that he was disappointed Snape wasn't there. He assumed the professor was likely having lunch with Malfoy, a thought that made him angry for reasons he could not yet figure out.

Once they finished lunch, Hermione helped Harry to the sitting room where she was introduced to Healer Smithe and proceeded to pepper the poor healer with questions on muggle medicine in the wizarding world. What was it like being an adult wizard, but living in the muggle world? How could one get a dual healing/medical mastery, does it require separate studies? And probably the most important to Harry, how will they monitor how his magic is handling the chemotherapy effects? That was probably something he should have asked when they started all of this. The answer was that they intended on doing "status checks" on it throughout his treatment, so that was something to look forward to.

At least I'll know pretty early on when I lose it.

Hearing that thought in his head was the hardest part of the day. Regardless of what Snape said, he couldn't help but think something bad was bound to happen to the magic within him.

He tried to play a game of wizard's chess with Ron, but he had to keep stopping when he was sick and losing his concentration. Today it was like his insides were trying to burn their way out of his body and no matter what he did or which medicine he used, it just wouldn't stop.

"Are you ok Harry, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked when Harry was leaning against the sofa holding his side instead of making his next move.

"I'm sure... it's fine," Harry replied worry seeping from his voice no matter how hard he tried to contain it.

"Are you nauseous?" Hermione kneeled down in front of Harry examining his eyes. She reached her hand out and lightly touched his forehead checking for a fever having read about how easy he could get sick.

Harry just shook his head side to side; it wasn't nausea this time around.

"I think we should call Professor Snape," Hermione added. "You don't look well Harry."

"No," Harry said firmly. He didn't want to interrupt Snape from whatever he was working on with Malfoy. "I never look well anymore Hermione. It'll be fine, let Professor Snape be."

"Ronald," Mrs. Weasley eventually said while keeping her eyes focused on Harry, "put the game away and let Harry try to get some sleep. You have plenty of school work to keep you busy the rest of the afternoon."

As nice as Mrs. Weasley's intentions were though, that didn't mean that Harry could rest. Only fifteen minutes later, he was laying on his back on the couch, small moans escaping his lips.

"Isn't there something you can do for him Mum?" Harry could hear the worry in his friend's voice too. This was far worse than any of the other times Ron had seen Harry sick.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head, "He can't have potions and I don't know anything about muggle medicine. I'm calling Severus and hopefully he can get the healer back here."

After squeezing the sphere, Snape came bustling into his quarters in the same manner he usually did on the first day of classes. He had a scowl on his face as if he was angry to be interrupted. Harry felt the familiar anxiety filling his chest from just the sight of the man in front of him.

"What is it," he demanded walking up to the sofa where Harry was laying.

"Not sure... Sir. It feels like... burning," Harry managed to say.

Snape narrowed his eyes at the teen clearly in pain for some reason or another. He looked to Mrs. Weasley as if she was the one that should be caring for him right at that moment.

"Can you call the healer?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "Unless there's something else he can take."

Rubbing his forehead, Snape just stared between Harry and Mrs. Weasley questioning in his head why this was happening today of all days. Unable to find another solution, he went to the floo and threw down the floo powder with more force than necessary to call Madam Pomfrey and Healer Smithe.

"Ron dear," Mrs. Weasley said calmly, "Can you and Hermione help Harry to his bedroom? I imagine he'd be much more comfortable there then out here on the sofa."

Harry nodded, but it was more because he didn't want to be in the same room with the irate potions professor than for his physical comfort. He was going to feel this pain no matter where he was, but he could avoid the explosive anger he was bound to be subjected to in the sitting room.

"What's up with that greasy git today?" Ron exclaimed the moment Harry's bedroom door was closed. "And where is he going every afternoon my mum is here?"

Harry closed his eyes as he leaned against his pillows, "It's something... for the order."

While Snape never explicitly said he couldn't tell his friends, Harry naturally assumed no one should know about Malfoy and his situation. He also couldn't handle Ron's inevitable outburst when he found out about it.

"He's in pain," Hermione said seemingly out of nowhere.

"Clearly!" Ron gestured to Harry who was still writhing on his bed trying to find a position that didn't hurt his insides.

"I don't mean Harry," Hermione sighed looking over to Harry, worried about her ill friend, "Professor Snape - it's obvious he's in pain. I'm guessing from whatever he's doing for the Order."

What could Malfoy do that could possibly injure Snape? Or was there something else he was working on that he didn't tell Harry about? There was bound to be loads of things he wasn't aware of and it was better to think about those possibilities instead of his bad mood due to Harry's condition inconveniencing him.

A soft knock was heard outside his door and Hermione went to open it. In bustled Snape, Mrs. Weasley, Healer Smithe, and Madam Pomfrey; Harry felt like a zoo exhibit yet again. Ron and Hermione were pulled away from Harry by Mrs. Weasley to the other side of the room.

"They should leave," the Potions Master spat at Mrs. Weasley.

"We don't want to leave!" Ron stood up taller to appear less intimidated by the professor. If Harry weren't lying on his bed in pain, he would have been proud of his friend for standing up to Snape like he did.

"This isn't about what you want Mr. Weasley," Snape growled before yelling, "now leave!"

Hermione pulled on Ron's arm and they both left for the sitting room.

"After accompanying them home," Snape said to Mrs. Weasley, "I need you to return." The professor didn't want to say so in front of his young charge, but he was in no condition to look after him today.

"Of course Severus," the motherly redhead said with more compassion than he deserved, "I'll be right back." She looked over to Harry with a heavy heart as the healer and medi-witch were working over him.

Harry could feel all sorts of diagnostic scans running through his body. Some of them simply scanned the surface while others he could feel deep into his organs and bones. Healer Smithe took several vials of blood to examine via muggle tests back at his office. The whole time, Snape stood right behind the two as they worked.

"I told you, I don't think he is having a normal reaction to the chemo this time," the man was angry that his previous concerns had gone unheard.

"Severus," Healer Smithe started to explain, "there's no real normal when dealing with a situation like this. Nothing on the scans are showing anything that would cause a reaction like this besides the side effects from the chemotherapy."

Harry could almost see the fumes coming off of the professor. He didn't think he'd seen the man this angry, not even after the pensieve incident.

"Are there stronger pain medications you can give him? Or can he cease the rest of the continuous chemo?"

"With only a day and a half left, and having it more or less under control before now, I'd like to see if we can get him through it," the healer kindly said, pressing his fingers across his forehead. "I'll be back with a stronger dose of Morphine, but it's the absolute highest I feel comfortable prescribing for him. If this doesn't work in a relatively short amount of time, we'll cut the chemo early and reevaluate."

If he didn't feel like he was being ripped apart from the inside out, he would have been relieved at the thought of all of this ending early. He was vaguely aware of the healer leaving and returning only a short time later. There was a rustling next to his bedside as the bag of medication was prepared, and at some point a wet flannel was placed across his forehead which had beaded up with sweat.

The next thing he knew, the fire inside of him was dying out and he could breathe a little easier with each breath he took. His eyes started to grow heavy and he didn't know if it was the new pain medicine making him drowsy or the fact that his body was completely physically exhausted now that the pain was subsiding. In the end, it didn't matter because he wasn't going to stop the blissful sleep that was overcoming him.

~~~~SS~~~~

It had to be today that Severus felt, for the first time since the Privet Drive attack, his dark mark burn. The summons came right after Harry had gone to rest before the Weasleys and Miss. Granger came over. Thinking quickly, the former spy went to the floo and asked Albus to come through to discuss their options. The Headmaster arrived in a modest set of dark red robes and a smile on his face that immediately faded once he heard the reason behind the visit.

"At this point, I think it's best not to answer the summons," he explained to the leader of the Order. "If the Dark Lord has not wanted an explanation by now, it's unlikely I'd be given much time for one if I appear before him."

"I must say I agree with Severus," Albus sadly confirmed pacing in front of the fireplace. "Do you have a way to handle the effects when it goes unanswered?"

The Potions Master shook his head, his black hair falling across either side of his face. "Unfortunately even a high dose pain draught won't stop that of the dark mark. I'll have to start modifying the formulation or else I'll lose my sanity before long."

"Of course," Albus nodded his agreement. "Please do not hesitate to let me know if you need assistance securing any specialized ingredients you may need. I'm sure Pomona would be more than willing to help."

Severus gave a calculated look at the older wizard. The last thing he wanted to do was explain to one of his colleagues why he needs speciality class plants grown that would never be used inside a standard classroom. While each professor was allowed to use the school's resources for non class related projects, most of the time it was professional research work, not personal.

"I heard you had a rather exciting day yesterday," Albus continued quite idiotically in Severus's opinion, "I take it young messrs. Malfoy and Potter have gotten reacquainted?"

"Obviously, otherwise we would have had no issues. I told you it was not advisable to have them both here at the same time." Severus wanted Draco to stay at Grimmauld Place and it would have prevented that very occurrence.

"You worry too much Severus," the headmaster casually commented, "I don't see any issues in allowing some camaraderie to grow."

"Camaraderie? Are you mad? They're going to kill each other," Severus threw his hands in the air as if giving up.

"Hardly so. Harry cannot do magic right now."

"That's a technicality. So then Draco will simply kill him," Severus was still not amused; while fighting the pain in the dark mark was not the time to have this conversation.

"Not if he wants our help," the Headmaster smiled. He decided to change the subject, "I've been thinking about your unique predicament Severus, and if there's any way we can use it to our advantage."

The Potions Master narrowed his eyes and frowned, "I told you, in my reality the Dark Lord hadn't even come close to coming back, so how can my situation be of any help? Trust me, if I knew how to kill the evil bastard I would have told you by now."

"Yes, I do believe you would have, but you're missing a key part of your statement my boy," Albus's eyes twinkled, "you prevented his rebirth and I can't help but wonder if you arriving here can in some way help us with our Voldemort problem."

And so they spent the morning going through the differences between key moments in the timeline and they always ended up back to the same conclusion. The fact that Severus had been a constant, stable adult for Harry was the difference in preventing Voldemort's return. However, no matter how many times they went through it, they could not think of how Severus being in this reality could help against Voldemort - besides the obvious that had he not been here, Harry would likely be almost dead from the Leukemia.

Eventually, Mrs. Weasley arrived with Ron and Hermione, so they needed to table the discussion for later. Albus stayed to have a cup of tea with the Weasley matriarch while Severus moved to his laboratory to start developing some way to ease the pain of the dark mark which had not lighted up at all.

He wrapped the mark in a charmed bandage to stay cool, however trying to focus through the burning was not only difficult, but it put him in a foul mood. He ruined two attempts at a revised pain potion and one attempt at a revised burn paste by making mistakes that would rival Longbottom, which only added to his rage. Training with Draco hadn't gone any better. While Draco handled the almost-too-aggressive Legilimency appropriately, the professor still felt the need to lecture Draco on his abysmal performance and went into great detail about how likely he was to get himself killed.

It was in the middle of their observation training, when the sphere glowed red, the color to indicate a severe problem, and given Severus's mood he took his anger out on everyone that walked in front of his path. While Alton had been assuring him that Harry's reaction to the chemo could be classified as normal, Severus didn't believe him and now his young Gryffindor was writhing in pain on his bed. It took all his might not to rip out all the lines currently running into Harry's body just to end his suffering - ironically, something he could not do for his own situation.

With all the scans showing no abnormalities, there wasn't much else Alton could do besides increase the morphine. Severus hated that there wasn't anything they could do to stop the cause of the pain, but with only a day and half of the chemo left for this round, hopefully Harry's frail body would be able to recover enough next week to re-stabilize. At this point, Harry was asleep and Mrs. Weasley had agreed to stay while Severus was locked away in his bedroom because it was obvious he wasn't clear headed enough to safely aid Harry should he need it.

The dark mark didn't cease burning until dinnertime. Harry hadn't woken up once during that time and Severus found Mrs. Weasley on the sofa knitting a green jumper in the sitting room when he finally escaped from his bedroom.

"Everything ok dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked once he was seated in the armchair to her left. Having taught all of her children, it was always odd to be reminded that she was, indeed, older than him.

"Hopefully with time," he said honestly holding his head in his hands. "How is Harry?"

"Still sleeping, thankfully," she said looking back towards his bedroom. "What do you suspect was going on?"

"No idea, but if nothing is physically wrong I'm leaning towards it being something magical," he hated to admit what was going through his mind. "Maybe his magic has been fighting against it all along and this was its one big push...I don't know. It's really anyone's guess, but I'll discuss it with Albus. If anyone can find something, I'm sure he can."

"Poor thing," Mrs. Weasley mumbled, secretly referring to both the professor and student.

~~~~HP~~~~

His whole body ached as if he had been under the Cruciatus Curse. That was the first thought he had when consciousness came back to him. Trying to think back to what happened he could only put bits and pieces together - it was his birthday, Ron and Hermione were here, Snape was angry, he was in pain. Thankfully he was in less pain now, but ached everywhere instead.

Opening his eyes, his room was dark; there was only one small lantern lit on the other side of the room. Immediately looking to the enchanted window, he was confused to see it completely blank.

Why would someone turn it off?

He reached over and grabbed his glasses unceremoniously shoving them on his face and saw the sight of his professor sleeping slumped over in the armchair beside the bed using his robe as a blanket. In the man's lap were several pieces of parchment, the topmost reading Draco Malfoy with Albus Dumbledore directly beneath it. It was obvious that they had tried to visit and Snape had either ignored or slept through the alert.

He cleared his throat, happy to see a glass of water on the desk. Sipping the water was pure bliss on his parched throat and the first indication he'd been asleep for longer than he normally slept.

"Severus," he called out to no avail. The man was completely passed out, but his chest rising and falling at least showed a sign that he was alive.

Harry really considered just going back to sleep, but he had to use the loo really bad. His port and IV were still attached and he couldn't really use the crutches and pull the stand at the same time. He sat up, swinging his legs across the bed, trying to ignore his aching muscles in the process. He looked around for the sphere, but it was nowhere near him.

What the hell happened?

"Severus," he called a little louder but again it went unnoticed. That was the wrong thing to do because he barely had time to grab for the pail next to his bed before he vomited mostly bile from his empty stomach.

Suddenly, a figure appeared at the door and picked his head up to see, his face went into an immediate scowl. It was Malfoy.

He's like a cockroach, I can't get rid of him!

"How did you get in here?" He demanded quietly, so as not to wake Snape although he doubted he could if the professor had slept through everything so far.

"The headmaster let me in. After Professor Snape didn't answer any of our messages; we were worried," the blonde teen explained.

"What happened to him?"

Malfoy shook his head, "I think he took a sleeping draught. All I know is when we got here you were both passed out like this."

"And Dumbledore left you here? Alone?"

"Of course not," Malfoy said highly offended, "Professor Dumbledore was here with me until a couple of minutes ago. I have to say, your timing really is awful."

Harry thought about his options, if he didn't get to the loo soon he'd have far more things to be embarrassed about than asking Malfoy for assistance.

"It's not like I had a choice in it," he spat back. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes he asked, "Can you at least give me a hand to the loo?"

The horrified look on Malfoy's face was almost worth having to ask him for help.

"All I need you to do is follow me in with this-" he held onto the stand next to him, "-and then leave once I'm in there. The room is small enough for me to get around."

Malfoy looked from Harry to the lavatory door and back.

"Fine, Potter" he spat, "but if you tell a single person, I'll make your life a living hell."

Harry shook his head confused and grabbed his crutches from next to the bed being careful not to wake Snape. It was a short awkward walk to the lavatory, but it really was necessary and Malfoy at least had the foresight to wait for Harry outside the door, sparing him another awkward request.

The small field trip had completely exhausted the Gryffindor physically, but mentally he was too awake to sleep. Not wanting to interrupt Snape, he grudgingly asked Malfoy to help him to the sitting room. He was laying on his spot on the sofa while Malfoy sat on the armchair Snape did not use; leading Harry to believe that Malfoy had not only been in the professor's quarters before, but often enough to know which was "Snape's chair".

"How long was I asleep?"

Malfoy looked over at him placing the book he was reading onto his lap. "Well, I don't know when you fell asleep, now do I?"

"Erm..." Harry thought back, "it was the afternoon of the 31st."

"Oh, well then about a day. It's two o'clock in the afternoon on the 1st."

Malfoy gave him a questioning look, but Harry didn't care; he had only 17 hours left of the continuous chemo and then he'd be done for at least a week. While he didn't doubt the next phase wouldn't be anymore pleasant, he would be happy to, hopefully, be making some progress. Maybe they could try to test out some of his magic just to make sure he could still function.

"Earth to Potter," he heard Malfoy call to him.

"Shove it Malfoy," he said and picked up his Charms book to redo the essay Snape transfigured into a bandage.

The two teens sat in the sitting room with an uneasiness between them. Neither could fully concentrate on the work he was supposed to be doing and instead kept peering over to either the fireplace, Harry's bedroom, or the other boy.

Several hours later, Harry had given up on Dumbledore coming back and he assumed the next person would be either Healer Smithe or Madam Pomfrey to change out his medications. That was until he heard someone loudly curse from his bedroom. Snape must have woken up and Harry was not in his bed.

"Harry!"

"In here sir," he called out to Snape as the man uncharacteristically ran out into the sitting room.

"Good morning Severus, it's nice to see you too," Malfoy sarcastically replied. "Or I guess I should say good evening since it's nearly supper time."

Snape glared over at Malfoy, "How did you get in here?" He sat down in the other armchair across from the blonde Slytherin.

"That seems to be a popular question today," he narrowed his eyes to Harry. "I came here with the headmaster, but he had to leave right before Potter woke up."

"I apologise," the professor said to Harry. "I took a pain potion that I hadn't realized was laced with a sleeping draught. It was completely unacceptable."

Harry turned away, "S'ok sir."

"No, it's not ok," Snape's face became angry, before his mask covered it back up. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm ok," he lied. The last thing Harry wanted was to cause more guilt for his professor and he questioned to himself when he started to care so much. "What caused that reaction sir? I mean, at this point I know what to expect but that was so... different."

The professor looked over at Malfoy and chose his words carefully, "Professor Dumbledore has a couple of ideas. Hopefully he'll find something to help so that does not happen again."

Of course the headmaster would know and not tell him. It was only his body going through all this, why should he have any idea what to expect? Going down that train of thought soured his mood instantly and he hardly heard Snape say he was going to prepare dinner for the three of them.

Harry didn't know why he thought to ask, probably because misery loved company and he was desperate for someone else to be as miserable as he was. Whatever the reason, he almost couldn't believe when he heard himself ask Malfoy, "When are you getting the dark mark?"

To his credit, Malfoy didn't fall into a raging fit, but instead looked almost as exhausted as Harry was.

"Monday," he replied quietly, "I go back home Sunday and then Macnair is coming to get me for the initiation."

"I'm not saying I believe you," Harry said skeptically, "but if you don't want to get marked, why are you? I doubt it's to help the Order like you claim."

"Ha!" Malfoy gave a sadistic laugh, "you make it sound like I've ever had a choice. Sure, maybe I used to want this, but from where I'm sitting today, my father's in Azkaban when the Dark Lord could have easily gotten him out by now. And you know what the ironic part of that is? That he's probably safer in Azkaban than out here. What does that tell you about the respect the Dark Lord gives his followers?"

"It's not like you didn't know what kind of manic Voldemort was before now. It's been kind of obvious."

There was no way Harry would feel bad for Malfoy. The Slytherin knew exactly what he was getting himself into before now. Harry on the other hand had always been just thrown into these situations for reasons he had no control over. Sure, he could never imagine what it would be like going against your parents' wishes, but that was because the person the Malfoy's worshipped killed his parents before he was ever given that chance. Malfoy may have Dumbledore fooled into believing he's changed, but Harry definitely wasn't.

"So what's your story?" Malfoy asked, nodding his head towards Harry.

"There's nothing to tell," Harry spat back, not caring what Snape said the other day, he would die before revealing to Malfoy a single piece of information about himself. The last thing he needed was Voldemort knowing he was on his way to becoming a squib.

"You think I believe that Potter?"

No, Harry did not believe that. He wasn't stupid, he knew what he looked like. However, he also had the advantage that while any muggleborn would clearly know what was wrong with him, the Death Eaters and their children would most definitely not know anything about muggle illnesses.

"I'm sure Hermione has a book she'd lend you, all you have to do is ask her."

Friday finally arrived and Harry was more excited than when he won his first Quidditch match. Having had such a strange sleeping schedule, both Harry and Snape stayed up most of the night and Harry had finished his Charms and DADA assignments which Snape was in the process of reviewing. Harry spent the early morning hours thinking about Malfoy and the conversation they had. Was it possible for two people as different as him and Malfoy to find themselves in similar situations? Were they both living a life where they found themselves without a choice - Harry with his cancer and Malfoy with the dark mark? It was a lot to think about.

He ended up back at the hospital wing that morning where Harry was given a muggle calming draught - which made him feel completely out of it even if he wasn't sleeping - and had another Intrathecal chemo done along with another bone marrow biopsy to check the status of the leukemia. For some reason Harry hadn't thought that they'd have to do the biopsy again when checking once the induction chemo was completed. It was a very good thing he had the muggle calming draught because both of those at the same time would have practically killed him.

By the time he was back at Snape's quarters, he was too exhausted to do anything but go to sleep. Not wanting to sleep too soundly and further mess up his sleep cycle, he slept out on the sofa waking only for a couple rounds of vomiting and then immediately going back to sleep. Snape never said a word about his unorthodox sleeping location, but he also had a feeling the man was still angry with himself for both his attitude and the potion mishap from the other day.

Healer Smithe stopped by late afternoon with Madam Pomfrey, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Dumbledore which not only caused Harry to wake up a little more suddenly than usual, but caused him to get extremely nervous. This would be the first time seeing his Head of House since all of this started.

"Oh Harry," she sympathetically said immediately upon seeing him which was about what everyone sounded like lately, "I'm so sorry to hear about everything you're going through. I'll be here for you in any way that you need."

"Thank you Professor McGonagall," Harry said, hoping to move whatever this was along.

Professor McGonagall summoned and transfigured the appropriate number of chairs so that everyone was sitting together in a circle. There were introductions for Healer Smithe and Professor McGonagall, and small talk regarding the submissions to the Board of Governors for each curriculum. Apparently Snape was being called in to discuss his suggested curriculum, but he just waved it off saying that "they're always looking for something to complain about." It was obvious the professor had done this before.

"Ok," said Healer Smithe bringing the group's attention to him, "Harry, I have your results back from the bone marrow biopsy we did this morning and I'm happy to report that there was no sign of the Leukemia in your bone marrow. The induction chemo did it's job and you are now considered in remission."

Harry wanted to jump up with excitement, but his foot was in the cast and he still was a touch nauseous from the chemo that morning. He did feel the start of tears in the corners of his eyes, which he quickly swept away.

"That's great," he settled with instead. "So, why are there so many people here?"

"We're going to discuss the next phase, which will lead into the school year," he said handing out papers to each person, "I thought it best to include your Head of House and headmaster in addition to Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape. It will be less times you need to explain it."

"Oh, that makes sense."

"Even though the test results show no more cancer in the bone marrow" the healer went into his lecture-mode voice, "it doesn't mean that it's not still there. Unfortunately, because it was there at some point, if we stop treatment now, it will come back. Consolidation is used to keep killing off any possibility of that happening.

"Consolidation itself is done in 3 phases and will run about 7 months in total if everything goes smoothly. We'll take it one at time again, so it doesn't overwhelm you. The first part will be a total of 8-weeks, and is done in 2 rounds of 4-weeks each."

Harry was brought back to the appointment when they first discussed his treatment. Even though it was only a month ago, it felt so much longer and he was surprised at how comfortable he was with the terminology and accepting what would be happening to him. He remembered sitting in the healer's office scared out of his mind and consolidation seemingly so far away. As he turned his head around the room he also noticed how many more people were here for him. The day of his diagnosis, he was so alone but seeing everyone here helped make him feel stronger even if only a little.

"We're going to start next week and each Saturday you'll have an Intrathecal done and then chemo through your port. For the first 2 weeks, it will be 5 hours on Saturday followed up with another 4 hours each day Sunday , Monday, and Tuesday. The last 2 weeks will only be 2 hours on each Saturday giving you the week completely free. That cycle will repeat once to make up the full 8 weeks. We'll also be adding a daily chemotherapy tablet to take plus you'll still need to take the vitamins, antiviral, antibiotic, pain reliever, and antiemetic."

To Harry, he pretty much said: awful first 2 weeks, better second 2 weeks, repeat once... Extra tablets.

"So that will get me to, when... October?" Harry asked, calculating quickly in his head, "Will I be able to go to classes? I'd like to at least stay caught up in the theory if I can."

"Unfortunately, I'm recommending you stay out of classes at least through this part of consolidation," Healer Smithe said looking not only at Harry, but the headmaster as well. "At least two of these medications can be hard on the blood cell counts. We'll keep close monitoring of your blood counts and hopefully by mid-October, they'll be stable enough to attend classes again."

A month and a half - he'd miss at least that much of school. How was he going to keep up with classes if he couldn't attend them?

"How will that work? I mean, not even counting the fact that I can't do magic, how will I even keep up with the theory if I'm not in class?"

It was Professor McGonagall that spoke up this time, "I'll be working with your professors to set up a tutoring schedule, plus you'll be assigned a student tutor for each subject to assist you."

Harry felt his face flush; as if he needed any other reason for the rest of the school to think he was getting special treatment.

Picking up on his discomfort, Snape added, "It's what would be offered to any other student with a disability preventing him or her from attending regular classes. You are not special in this."

Strangely, that made him feel a little better, but he doubted his classmates would see it that way.

"Will I be staying here with Professor Snape the whole year?"

"Actually Harry," it was the Headmaster this time, "you can have some say in where you go this year.

"With the death of your relatives, it unfortunately has left you without a guardian. As your Head of House, the fastest option to keep you out of the Ministry's control was to get Professor McGonagall assigned as your guardian until you turn 17. That means if you'd like, we can move you to a set of guest quarters off of hers. Similar to Mr. Malfoy's situation here, it would technically be a space all your own but with Professor McGonagall having direct access to it."

Harry was more than surprised by that offer. Not only could he get away from the dungeons, he'd only have to see Snape for his tutoring in Potions; if he even got into the class to begin with.

"But if Professor Snape is my medical proxy, shouldn't he be overseeing my treatment?"

The Headmaster didn't hide his smile or the twinkle in his blue eyes when they met Harry's still dull green ones.

"Well, you see Harry," the eldest wizard started, "with your relatives no longer your guardians, there isn't really a need for the medical proxy. Minerva is more than capable of overseeing your care and making decisions in your best interest if you so desire her to. However the medical proxy agreement has not yet been dissolved, so should you like to keep the arrangement with Professor Snape you certainly can do so. He does have the benefit of having some healer training."

Harry couldn't believe he was getting to make a decision like this. It's exactly what he'd always asked the courtesy of - but which did he want? He could put the last month of Snape behind him and yet he couldn't jump at the chance now that it was right in front of him.

Turning to face Snape, the man looked completely defeated. Harry was sure he was thinking back to how he acted the other day in his fit of rage and indiscretion with the potion. Even still, he's learned so much about his mum from the professor and he's learned about a whole different life the man had lived before showing up here. In fact, if it weren't for that other life, where would Harry be right now? Probably at the Dursley's miserable and dying without even knowing it.

Everyone was waiting on him to answer and he flushed when noticing all the eyes on him.

Wetting his lips, not taking his eyes off Snape, he said "If it's ok, I'd like to stay here with Professor Snape as my medical proxy." He quickly added, "It's not that I don't trust you Professor McGonagall, it's just..." He trailed off not knowing how to put what he was thinking into words.

"Don't worry about it Harry," Professor McGonagall reassured while leaning over to pat his shoulder. "Severus is a very wise choice to oversee your medical care."

The young wizard nodded turning again towards Snape, but this time meeting the professor's eyes. Deep within the obsidian eyes he could see confusion and relief. It was the first time Harry had publicly shown that his relationship with the man was indeed changing and Harry was anxious to see where this would lead the both of them individually, together, and as part of the war effort against Voldemort.

~~~~AU SS~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~SS~~~~

He chose to stay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I'm officially losing my mind.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I should have anticipated that.

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

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

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

~~~~HP~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wait, I've done this before.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Greatly reduced... Meaning there was damage.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry peered skeptically, "What is that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes sir."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Where are the others? At headquarters?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ordinary Wizarding Level

Pass Grades

Outstanding (O)

Exceeds Expectations (E)

Acceptable (A)

Fail Grades

Poor (P)

Dreadful (D)

Troll (T)

Harry James Potter has achieved:

Astronomy: A

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Charms: E

Defense Against the Dark Arts: O Divination: P

Herbology: E

History of Magic: D

Potions: E

Transfiguration: E

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

~~~~SS~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why would you think such a thing?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is this why my results were late?"

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

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

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

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

Severus waved his hand for Harry to continue.

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

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

"Yes, sir."

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

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

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

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

"I did it."

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

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

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

~~~~HP~~~~

Even though he knew he shouldn't eavesdrop, Harry had really wanted to wait up for Malfoy's arrival so he could find out what had happened at the meeting. Unfortunately, he ended up falling asleep well before midnight, without any sign of the Slytherin showing up, and of course on a night he actually wanted to have a vision, he wasn't lucky enough to have one. That didn't mean he slept soundly; no instead he tossed and turned through his normal set of nightmares.

It was a nightmare about Ginny being attacked by Bellatrix, where Harry stood helpless watching her get attacked over and over again, that woke him up at quarter past five in the morning. He bolted up trying to catch his breath and grabbed for his glasses, ignoring the tears slowly falling down his cheeks. No amount of telling himself it was only a dream would help him fall back asleep, so knowing he was up for the day, he grabbed some clothes from the wardrobe, a white long sleeved shirt and blue jumper with jeans, and went to shower now that he no longer had the muggle cast.

Snape was still presumably asleep and it was too early to go up to the hospital wing to see Ginny, so he decided to get a head start cooking some breakfast for himself and Snape. It was the least he could do while he was well enough because he had a feeling that starting Saturday he was not going to be able to do much around the quarters.

Snape flew into the kitchen a half hour later, clearly surprised to see Harry awake and cooking.

"I thought I'd get some breakfast started," the Boy-Who-Lived explained.

"Thank you, but you need not cook for me," Snape said, taking over for Harry at the stove finishing up the sausages.

"I like to cook," Harry explained as he sat down at the table. "Believe it or not, it was my favorite chore to do back at my aunt and uncle's house."

He could see Snape considering that statement and was likely thinking back to his marks in Potions class. Since Harry couldn't defend himself saying that half the issues in class were Malfoy sabotaging his work, he poured himself a glass of orange juice and a cup of coffee for Snape. Without another word, the professor placed a plate of food in front of Harry.

"Thank you," the Gryffindor said with a small smile as he started to eat his eggs. "Did you hear from Malfoy last night?"

Snape turned around quickly, staring stoically at Harry, and sharply answered, "I will not be discussing with you what happened at the latest meeting nor any in the future, understood? Do not ask again."

"Of course sir... I didn't mean...," Harry looked away quickly, he could feel the discomfort emanating from his professor. "Can I go see Ginny today?"

Snape sat down across from Harry placing his cup of morning medications next to his glass of orange juice.

"I have to meet with the Headmaster this morning and will drop you off on my way," the professor said casually, "Please bring your school work. I was serious that you need to get as much completed this week as you possibly can."

"Yes sir, I'll pack it up after breakfast and work at the hospital wing."

The tension in the air of the small kitchen could be cut with a knife as they both ate their breakfast. Harry knew the former spy was withholding not only information, but likely it was the information Harry was so desperate to know. Maybe Malfoy hadn't gone through with it after all. Slytherins weren't known for their bravery and Malfoy was probably the worst of the lot. If Snape can't spy anymore and Malfoy chickened out, where did that leave the Order? Of course, if that were the case, Snape wouldn't have said that they wouldn't discuss further meetings.

He finished his breakfast in silence then immediately went to gather his things. He filled his school bag with his Potions, Herbology, and Defense textbooks, muggle notebooks and pens, and the latest letter he received from Dudley which he intended to reply to before the week was out. According to the last letter, Dudley was struggling with his parents' death and living with Aunt Marge was becoming unbearable to him. Harry found himself feeling strangely connected to his cousin at the moment and wanted to help as much as he possibly could.

Mrs. Weasley was not in the hospital wing when he walked out of Madam Pomfrey's office and Snape didn't say a word to him after they arrived, but instead simply continued walking out the door to see the headmaster, leaving Harry alone with Ginny. He sat in the comfortable chair at Ginny's bedside taking hold of her almost too cold hand. Most of her bruises were finally healed, and the red cut along her face appeared slightly better than yesterday, but was still red and raw. If it weren't for that angry cut, she would look as if she were simply sleeping.

"Hi Ginny," he said quietly, "I'm back."

Harry tried not to feel silly for talking to someone lying unconscious in a bed. Madam Pomfrey explained yesterday that she may be able to hear what was going on around her, but in Harry's well-versed experience of being unconscious for days at a time, that was not the case. It didn't stop him from wanting to believe it though.

"I'm so sorry Ginny," he started with, "I didn't want any of this to happen, especially to your family. You guys are the closest I have to one and I'm always putting you all in danger."

It felt good to be able to speak freely about what was on his mind. Without Mrs. Weasley or Madam Pomfrey present, he could say what was on his mind, which was exactly what he did. He talked about his aunt and uncle's death and that while he wasn't happy they were dead, he definitely wasn't sad they were gone either. Did that make him a bad person? He'd always assumed he'd be long gone from their home when they eventually died and wouldn't have put much thought in it one way or the other. That led him to Dudley, his changing relationship with his cousin, and how vulnerable it made him feel.

He talked about his cancer and the chemotherapy, how it seemed counterproductive to make him so sick while trying to cure a disease, how ironic it was that magic couldn't do a single thing to help it, and how after all of his encounters with Voldemort he's learned he really didn't want to die. But what if this killed him? What if his luck had been used up on Voldemort and the Boy-Who-Lived couldn't survive a muggle disease he shouldn't have been able to get in the first place? Somehow that seemed like a fitting end for him.

Through his winding rambles he ended up in the place he deep down had wanted to start, but didn't know how - Snape. It was only because he was all alone with an unconscious Ginny that he could admit he enjoyed living with the sarcastic professor. Sometime within the last month between the cancer, chemotherapy, attack on Privet Drive, and learning about the whole other world this Snape came from, he'd gone from hating the professor, to tolerating him, to respecting him. How could such a large change happen seemingly without him noticing? And what should he do with this information now that he has it? It was a lot to think about.

Feeling better now that his mind was clear, he focused onto his assignments, starting with Potions as he was already behind on that one and Snape was sure to overanalyze it to death. A part of him was looking forward to individual classes at least to start next year. Surely it would make understanding the material easier if there weren't any distractions. Not only that, it would help delay the inevitable, when the whole school learned about his illness. Maybe he just wouldn't go back to classes again after all.

~~~~SS~~~~

"You are certain he was killed?" Albus asked.

"Draco reported that the Dark Lord himself cast the killing curse. I doubt he missed his target," the former spy answered, "If we already do not trust his intelligence, then this arrangement will not work."

While Severus had been relieved that Draco had not been able to cast the killing curse last night, it had come at a cost to the young Slytherin which unfortunately was experiencing the Cruciatus curse for the first time. Not many people knew that it wasn't uncommon for a soon-to-be marked Death Eater to be unable to cast the killing curse especially if it was his or her first time. Unfortunately - or worse luckily - Draco had done enough damage in the form of torture to their hostage to at least deem himself worthy of the mark; a thought that turned the professor's stomach no matter how he looked at it.

Albus paced across the fireplace threshold, his hands clasped behind his back. He was dressed in bright blue robes with snowflakes scattered across looking out of place not only due to the season, but also because of the sober conversation they were having.

"You are right, but I wonder why his body has not yet appeared. We have every resource available to us out looking for him or any sign of him; all have turned up empty handed."

"I don't doubt there's a reason Albus, but like most things relating to the Dark Lord, we will have to wait. In the meantime, shall someone inform the Weasley's?"

Albus stopped mid-stride and turned to the professor, "No we should let this play out for now. They have plenty to worry about with young Miss. Weasley's condition. Between the castle and Grimmauld Place, the rest of the family is safe."

"As you wish," Severus disagreed with his decision; he was never one to instill hope in others, especially if it were false hope. He was much too practical for that.

"You disagree?"

"Of course I disagree!" He yelled pounding his hand onto the desk in front of him. "Waiting to tell them the inevitable does not alter the result. He's still dead and telling his family today or whenever his body appears will not change that fact."

"That is true, but Severus you know what they'll go through."

A look of disgust crossed the younger professor's was hardly an appropriate time to bring something like that up. Unfortunately, he did know almost exactly how the Weasley parents would feel finding out their son was dead, however stringing them along with hope of finding him would only make it harder to bear in the end.

"I shall break the news to Molly and Arthur at the appropriate time. I must say it's one of the least favorite parts of my duties," Albus announced and Severus raised his hands in defeat, "and young Mr. Malfoy, how is he managing?"

"As one would expect, but I anticipate no issues in his continued support to the Order going forward. Dare I say the events of last night solidified his allegiance to our cause," Severus frowned. He had been wanting to discuss expanding Draco's activities for the Order and decided this was the best chance he'd get to do it casually, "I also think he can provide some assistance within his house here at the school."

Albus sat down at his desk. He picked up a piece of parchment, looking it over briefly before turning his attention back to Severus.

"I did not realize there were issues within your house, my boy," his blue eyes narrowing behind his half-moon spectacles. "Surely, you are more than capable of handling any that should arise without needing help from the student body."

Severus ignored the Headmaster's bait, "As I was preparing Draco for his initiation, it crossed my mind that had I known a fraction of what I was signing up for, it may have deterred me from joining. We should consider allowing Draco the ability to discuss his current predicament, stealthily of course, within the house. It might cause some disruption to the Dark Lord's future recruitment plans."

It was a big risk and one that had zero benefit for the Order, but someone had to try. Severus considered, given his own situation that he could do it, but he didn't want to draw any additional attention to himself and any potential Death Eaters likely would not take him seriously anyway. It would work best to try to convince them from within their social structure than from outside of it. If I could save one student from the life of evil servitude, it was worth the effort.

"Will you give me time to consider your request Severus?" the younger wizard nodded; it was better than a flat out no.

The rest of the week went surprisingly easy for both Severus and Harry. They got back into a closer to normal sleeping and eating schedule and fell into a routine between them, which immensely helped both of their moods towards each other and those around them.

Harry planned on visiting Ginny every day alongside a rotating set of the Weasleys. However on the second day, after returning to their quarters from visiting with Fred and George while at the hospital wing, Harry was met with a box of muggle medical masks on the table in the sitting room.

"What are these?" The young wizard harshly asked.

"Ah, that was a quick delivery," Severus said, summoning tea for the both of them as had become their afternoon routine. "With all the Weasley's visiting their sister and daughter, you need to stay protected."

Harry opened the box and pulled out what appeared to be a piece of paper with loops on both ends. He'd seen these on Aunt Petunia's medical shows and when he got his port placed last month.

"I'm not wearing this," Harry threw the mask back into the box and sat down on the sofa to drink his tea.

"You make it sound like you have been given a choice," immediately Severus regretted that statement; it was too similar to the infamous crossroads and now the second time in a week something triggered that memory. If he wasn't careful he would lose his mind trying to keep the realities straight.

"You have no idea what potentially infectious germs the Weasley's are unknowingly bringing into the Hospital Wing during your visits," Severus continued sipping his tea. "The problem occurs when an illness, that goes undetected because Mr. Weasley's - take your pick of which one - immune system can battle it before it causes any major symptoms towards him, is then passed to you. It will not have the same fate against your much weaker immune system and where he might end up with a little nasal congestion, you could get pneumonia which can quickly kill you in your current condition."

"I don't care. I told you, I'm not going to wear that thing!" The young wizard yelled slamming his tea down a bit too hard, causing it to spill onto the table.

Severus pulled out his wand and proceeded to clean up the tea, "It is simple Harry; no mask, no hospital wing. The choice is yours."

In the end, Harry didn't really have a choice because he wanted to see Ginny and whichever Weasley was also visiting, so he wore the mask during each trip to the hospital wing. Between his lack of hair, too skinny frame, and now the mask, Severus could tell Harry felt extremely self-conscious. The professor would give almost anything to take away his embarrassment, but not at the risk to his health.

Severus continued throughout the week with the school potion supplies, making some good progress getting back on schedule, and he managed to finish his new Defense curriculum by making the last of the required changes that did not get approved by the Board of Governors. He had a good start on his lesson plans, both for his standard classes and Harry's private tutoring, however most of the work would come the final week before term started. While he was pleased to finally get a chance at teaching defense, he ultimately wished it was under different circumstances.

There was only one time in the week that his dark mark burned and based on the abnormally long length of time it was the Dark Lord setting out to torture him with it. He was able to test out the newly created burn salve, which did not help at all, so he went back into his laboratory trying out yet another formulation. Twice that week, Draco stopped by for more training and by some miracle, both teenagers managed not to kill each other during their short passings. Near the end of the week, Albus reluctantly agreed to allow Draco to speak to his housemates about his Death Eaters experience, but all outgoing information had to be approved by Severus first; adding yet another level of responsibility onto the professor.

To Severus's surprise, Harry finished his summer work to the professor's high standards with less revision than he had anticipated. With homework out of the way, they started going through how lessons for the beginning of the year would look for him. On the days he did not have chemotherapy, he would have 2 hours of professor-led tutoring each night after dinner and during the day when he didn't have chemotherapy, he would work on 2 subjects with his student tutor for that subject for one and a half hours each. This would obviously change based on how he felt after each round and on chemotherapy days he would not have anything scheduled unless he felt up for the lesson.

To Severus's displeasure, this would all be occurring in his quarters. The defense office, and obviously the library and Gryffindor common room carried too much of a risk of infection. Since Minerva was Harry's official guardian and was coordinating his school schedule, Severus briefly considered using her quarters, but in the end - if he did not want Harry traveling throughout the school - having a set of professors and students in his quarters was ultimately the best option he had.

What was not discussed from neither the Order nor the Dark Lord - by finding the body - was Charlie Weasley. Severus obviously knew that the headmaster did not inform Molly and Arthur what Draco reported and it infuriated him. Either he didn't trust Draco's recounting of the meeting or he was just trying to delay the inevitable. Neither one was good. What did Albus think he would gain by delaying the news? Severus hoped that the Weasley's never found out he knew before they did, otherwise it was not likely to go over very well.

~~~~HP~~~~

Friday came upon them much faster than he and Snape had hoped. Tomorrow was the first round of consolidation chemotherapy, where he would start the day up at the hospital wing for the Intrathecal and then finish down in Snape's quarters for 5 hours of treatment which included an hour of one medication and 4 hours of another. When thinking about the week of continuous he did, five hours didn't seem so daunting even though he was not looking forward to it. Then on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday he would get another 4 hours each day, and this would repeat the following week as well. The schedule overwhelmed Harry so much that Snape finally created a schedule on some parchment for the next 8 weeks and posted it in the lavatory - two bad weeks (Saturday - Tuesday), followed by 2 good weeks (Saturday only), that repeated once - October seemed too far away for the both of them.

Snape must have been feeling generous because he allowed both Ron and Hermione over after dinner. Harry clearly needed the distraction before tomorrow and it was obvious the professor was not focused enough tonight to help; in fact Snape had seemed distracted most of the nights this week.

The trio were sitting in Harry's bedroom, Harry and Hermione sitting side by side on the bed while Ron was at Harry's desk frantically copying Harry's homework, but trying to make it sound like it was his own.

"You're telling me Snape's going to teach defense?" Ron asked, turning slightly green at the thought.

"Yes he is," Harry answered, almost holding in a laugh, "Let me know what Neville looks like when he finds out."

"So... you really won't be at the welcoming feast?" Ron asked suddenly seriously. This was a topic they'd discussed already, but Ron was in denial that Harry's schedule and living arrangements needed to change this year.

"No," Harry said casually. At first he was disappointed but after putting more thought to it, he really didn't want to be stared at all night. "September 1st is the day after chemo and even though it's an easier one, I just don't want the attention. Snape said if I was feeling up to it I could, but I know he would make me wear that stupid mask."

"Harry, it's for your safety," Hermione reprimanded while Ron rolled his eyes at her.

"Have you heard anything about Charlie?" Harry abruptly changed the subject not wanting to get into a debate with Hermione about his health.

"Nothing yet Mate," Ron said sadly, "I'll be sure to tell you as soon as we hear something, but it's been about a week and that can't be good news."

Harry had been thinking about Charlie and Ginny all week and frustrated that the Order hadn't been able to do much else for either of them. The Weasley's were some of the nicest people he knew and they didn't deserve something like this to happen to them.

Harry shivered both from the thought of Charlie still missing and from the cold dungeon air. It seemed no matter how warm he dressed - it could be two layers under his jumper and thick warm socks like he was dressed now - he was always cold. Mrs. Weasley had made him a couple of warm blankets that he could casually use, but they always ended up on the sofa which is where they were now. He lifted his legs to help stay warm instead.

Hermione noticed her friend shiver and she looked around for his blanket. Remembering she'd seen it in the sitting room, she swung her feet over the bed to go and retrieve it for him when surprisingly, the red blanket came flying in through the partially opened door.

"Thanks 'Moine," Harry said, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around himself.

Hermione looked over at Ron, who was still focused on Harry's homework, then back to Harry. She had been thinking about the red blanket, maybe she accidentally did a non-verbal accio... Or more like a non-verbal and wandless accio? It didn't matter in the end because Harry wasn't shivering anymore which warmed her heart.

"Not a problem Harry," she replied. He looked exhausted and she was about to suggest that she and Ron leave when the door opened and Snape walked in.

The professor looked between the three teenagers lingering a little longer on Ron as his student was trying to hide the fact that he was using Harry's essays to write his own.

"You won't learn a thing, Mr. Weasley, if you copy Harry's essay," Snape was leaning against the lavatory door glaring down at Ron who audibly gulped. "Do you know why professors assign summer work?"

"Erm... So we don't forget things?" Harry was proud his friend managed to remember and regurgitate from Hermione's "why summer assignments are important" lecture she gave to them every June.

"Yes," Snape said, seemingly impressed by the redhead's answer, "but also as a way to see which students still need assistance before moving onto new material. By copying a different student's essay, how can your professors know what level you personally are performing at?"

Harry furrowed his brows thinking this through. He was pretty sure Snape was lying, but didn't want to call the man out on it unless he was 100% sure. There was no way Snape ever cared if a student was behind in Potions before they started the next year.

"Food for thought," the professor added. He looked over to Harry, "I came in because I saw a red blanket flying off the sofa."

"Sorry, Severus," Harry said ignoring Ron's shocked face, "Hermione summoned it for me."

Snape looked over to Hermione who was nervously biting her lower lip. In his other reality, by sixth year these two eventually felt just as comfortable at Severus's quarters and Spinner's End as they did at the Burrow. Obviously here, their negative history was still a lot to overcome and he could feel the uneasiness throughout the room; a clear signal to leave.

"You have a busy day tomorrow, not much longer ok?"

Harry and Hermione nodded as he walked out, closing the door behind himself. Ron's face was a bright red that almost perfectly matched his hair.

"Severus?!" Ron yelled at Harry, "why the bloody hell would you call that git Severus?!"

Hermione stood up to stand between her two best friends "Ron," she said reaching for his hand.

"Erm... He asked me to... since I'm living here and all," Harry had expected this and if he was honest, he was surprised it hadn't come sooner. "It's not a big deal."

"Yes Harry, it is very much a big deal," Ron started shoving his things into his school bag. "I've tried my best to be supportive because, seriously you need it right now, but this is too much!"

Harry was now standing up ready to defend himself both verbally and, if needed, physically. Luckily Ron didn't grab for his wand which Harry couldn't do much about anyway.

"You should have been at our house Harry, don't you see that?"

Hermione seemed to know exactly where Ron was taking this - a fact that frustrated Harry because they had evidently been discussing him previously - since she immediately pulled at him and said, "Ron, this is not the time."

"No, Hermione," the redhead pulled away, "my parents begged Dumbledore to bring you to stay with us when they found out you were sick, did you know that? Even though they knew it would make them targets for Voldemort... And look what happened?! They came trying to find you anyways and now my brother is missing and my sister might not ever wake up! And this whole time you're becoming, whatever this is -" he waved his hands around the room to make his point clear, " - with one of them! My parents don't deserve this, they're good people Harry!"

"Ron, that's not fair," Hermione pleaded, barely able to hold Ron back; she pulled out her wand just in case.

"Don't you think I know that?!" Harry yelled back. "I feel awful about what happened, ok? First Sirius and now Charlie and Ginny. Don't you think I know all this already?"

They fell into a turbulent silence and it seemed as if both boys had lost some steam. Hermione let go of Ron, to collect their things so they could leave.

"It's all your fault," Ron said it ever so quietly but that was all it took; Harry had heard him.

Hermione held her breath as she watched between her best friends and then it happened as if they were in slow motion. Harry turned away from them clearly hurt by Ron's declaration, something he was already feeling about himself, but then immediately turned back and ran to tackle Ron to the ground. Hermione screamed and tried to separate the boys.

It felt good for Harry to release some of the pent up aggression he had over all the things beyond his control right now. Ideally, it would not have been at Ron and on the stone floor of the dungeon, but at that moment he didn't care. He didn't feel the pain of his back slamming against the floor when Ron, who was stronger than Harry even if he hadn't been so ill, tackled him back down or when Ron punched him in the nose causing blood to gush down his face. Harry was numb all over; his best friend agreed he was responsible for all the death and destruction around him. He always had been and he always would be at least until he killed Voldemort; that was unless he was killed by Voldemort or the cancer first.

Snape came uncharacteristically running in the room after hearing Hermione scream and her continued screams. He mentally scolded himself for not anticipating this and yelled, "Enough!" while pulling Ron off from on top of Harry.

"Get out!" he yelled at both Ron and Hermione, simultaneously bending down to help Harry up off the cold floor.

"C'mon 'Mione," Ron said, lifting his hand to feel his own bloody lip before storming out.

Hermione's face couldn't hide the devastation she was feeling; tears were streaming down her cheeks, "I'll catch up with you later Harry, I promise."

Snape glared at her as Harry simply nodded and she too left.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Snape said helping the young wizard to the lavatory and sitting him down on the closed loo.

There was blood everywhere from his nose and Harry questioned in his head how muggles fix broken noses. He was pinching the bridge while Snape charmed a towel cold placing it over top and transfigured another into cotton which he placed under Harry's nose.

"Is it bad?" Harry finally asked.

"Yes it is," he was doing all he could, but the blood wasn't slowing down.

"It was my fault... I attacked him first," Harry mumbled.

"We will deal with that later, I need to get your shirt off to inspect your back." Harry tried to ignore the panic in Snape's voice, which was becoming difficult.

Harry lifted his arms, but grimaced in pain from his back. Noticing his discomfort, Snape took out his wand and vanished the young wizard's shirt. His back was covered in large, dark purple bruises.

"He's got a lot on his mind," Harry continued disregarding Snape's request to discuss it later.

"And you don't? Even so, that does not give him cause to..." the professor trailed off as if remembering something.

"Muggle flight?"

"Indeed," Snape said thinking back to both their conversation at the end of term last year in the hospital wing as well as a memory from his old reality.

"The bleeding is finally slowing and I don't think it's broken. I'm going to get some bruise salve for your back; I think it's best to use in this instance," Snape finally replied after a long silence at the same time summoning a small round tin. "I'm going to apply just a small amount of this to your back to control the bruising."

"Ok sir," Harry agreed, feeling warm, rough hands gently apply the bruise salve. It was different from the many times Madam Pomfrey used the same salve on him in the past. He could almost imagine this was how a parent would care for their child; ever so gently with concern.

Snape applied just enough to turn the bruises from dark purple to yellow, so they were no longer actively bleeding under the skin. Satisfied with his work, he spelled a new shirt onto the teen.

"That's the best I can do. I don't think we need to contact Alton, at least not right now anyway," Snape leaned against the sink. "Care to tell me what happened?"

Even though Harry was ready to take the blame before, he did make the first move after all, now he was too exhausted to go through it all.

"I got angry at something Ron said," Harry shrugged, "he was just telling the truth though."

Snape narrowed his eyes. "I'm having a hard time coming up with something Mr. Weasley could say to make you react as you did."

Harry just glared back at Snape. The last thing he wanted to do was explain this to Snape. While he was learning to respect the professor, he still wasn't comfortable talking about something as personal as one of his biggest fears.

"You have a busy day tomorrow," Snape conceded, picking up on Harry's uneasiness. "Go to bed and we'll discuss this tomorrow."

"Thank you sir."

Harry walked back into his bedroom and changed into the pyjama bottoms that matched the shirt Snape had spelled on him. His back was still extremely sore, so he tried to sleep on his side as much as possible. He fell asleep with his scar both aching and tingling.

~~~~AU SS~~~~

Severus hated being called out of class for any reason; it was disruptive to the other students, it put his lesson plans behind schedule, but most of all it was embarrassing. Today, not only did that just occur during his second year lecture on swelling solutions, but it had to be for something as foolish as fighting. What could his son have been thinking; muggle fighting of all things?

He stormed into the hospital wing, robes billowing around him, where both boys sat on beds opposite each other, thankfully with a curtain between them so neither could see the other. Poppy was tutting about between them reprimanding both boys about their atrocious behavior.

Severus approached the bed of his 14 year old son. It was less than a week since Harry's name was selected from the Goblet of Fire and he knew it had caused a rift between Harry and Ron, however he never expected it to go this far; otherwise he would have absolutely stepped in. Harry was nursing a bloody lip with a handkerchief and had the start of a black eye when Severus walked up to his bedside.

"Care to explain to me why I was interrupted from my second year lecture?" Severus said sitting in the chair besides his bed and casting a muffliato behind him.

"He started it I swear," Harry complained. "He's being a total prat about this whole tournament thing!"

"I do not care who started it, however from what I have heard you threw the first punch. I do not condone fighting of any kind and you know that Harry," he steepled his fingers sighing disappointedly. "You will be serving detention every night for the next week-"

"You know, no one else has a parent as a professor to assign detentions!" Harry interrupted, "besides, Professor McGonagall already assigned detention and took points from both of us."

"As she should have, but this will be in addition to her detentions and I guarantee you even though Mrs. Weasley is not a professor here, Ron will get his punishment," Severus explained. "You will also not be permitted to go to the next Hogsmeade weekend."

"What?!" Harry yelled. "That's not fair, what did you expect me to do?"

"I expected you to walk away from the situation and let a professor handle it," he knew it was always hard for Harry to trust adults to look out for his best interest. While he had been getting better with it each year, Severus knew it was likely something his son would always struggle with.

"I'm sorry Severus," Harry said looking over at the man.

"Apology accepted, but your punishments still stand. Hopefully after all of this, you will learn your lesson. Try not to let him get to you, Ron will come around at some point; give him time," he picked up the tin of bruise salve and gently started applying it to Harry's black eye. "I should let this heal the muggle way since that's how you decided to get it in the first place."

~~~~SS~~~~

Saturday 10th, August 1996

It didn't take Merlin himself to guess what had occurred between the two boys last night; he had seen the look of betrayal on youngest Weasley son's face when he heard Harry call him Severus. What it did take was all of his resolve and Occlumency not to literally throw the other 2/3's of the Golden Trio out of his quarters last night, but he managed to maintain control - at least this time. Today was Harry's first day of consolidation and so far it was off to a rough start. The professor had prepared Harry's standard pre-chemotherapy breakfast of porridge with banana and granola, but the Gryffindor did not show up at his usual time. Placing a warming charm over the bowl, he walked carefully over to the teen's door listening in to see if he was at least awake. Hearing nothing, he held his breath and opened the door.

The room was gloomy from the rainy day outside preventing the sunshine from filtering into the room through the enchanted window. While the windows did help make the dreary dungeons feel more inviting, it didn't do anything when it was rainy outside, something Severus had gotten used to after all these years living here. Walking up to the bedside of his young sleeping charge, Severus relished in how peaceful he looked - at least at this time - while sleeping. He knew in his old reality Harry had suffered from nightmares after the Philosopher's Stone incident and he had to assume that given how much more had occurred in this reality after that year - things much worse than the Philosopher's Stone - he was still plagued with them. Curiously, in all of his time he spent sleeping in a chair besides Harry, he had never seen the young wizard have one.

However, right now he appeared to be peacefully sleeping and it hurt Severus to know that he had to wake the young man up and back to a life filled with death and destruction. The professor sat on the edge of the bed and gently shook Harry's arm.

"Harry... Harry..."

The small teen rolled over in his bed and gave a soft groan, as if his body and mind knew exactly what was waiting for him upon waking.

"Come on Harry, it's time to get up," Severus said it so gently he hardly recognized his own voice, but was rewarded with two bright emerald green eyes peeking open. Of course when they saw the professor sitting on his bed Harry jumped up immediately, reminding Severus that this child was never usually woken up peacefully.

It took a second for Harry to recognize where he was and as expected his first instinct was to apologise.

"Sorry professor," he said sleepily, yawning afterwards.

"It is of no consequence yet," he stood to give Harry some space and privacy as he awoke. "Your breakfast is ready, go ahead and get dressed; we'll talk while you eat."

Harry had gotten ready in record time and met Severus in the kitchen less than ten minutes later. Having already eaten his own breakfast, Severus busied himself with cleaning up the kitchen from breakfast as well as collecting Harry's morning medication, which now included a new chemotherapy tablet he would take everyday during consolidation.

"Here," he sat down at the table after handing Harry his medication. "How is your back feeling this morning?"

"Still sore," Harry mumbled while running his spoon through his porridge. Severus resisted the urge to make a comment about humans not being able to eat via osmosis since that would not aid him in getting Harry to both talk and eat.

"Alton will examine it before the Intrathecal, just in case," he explained knowing full well the healer would see it regardless of if Harry wanted him to or not. "What happened last night?"

"I got angry at something Ron said," Harry started to explain, finally taking a bite of his porridge.

"Yes, you did mention that part last night," the former spy was not about to let him off that easy again. Harry needed his friends during all of this and Severus needed to know how bad the row was. "Any specifics today would be most appreciated."

Harry took a large breath, delaying the inevitable, and met Severus's eyes; there was much more trust and compassion than the professor ever expected to see.

"He got angry that I called you Severus," Harry eventually said with a sound of relief. That proved he was at least half correct, but Severus doubted Harry fought his best friend on his account.

"If that was the reason you hit him first, I'm very honored but I have a feeling there's more to it than simply that..." He trailed off and was not at all surprised when Harry continued; that tactic worked plenty of times in his old reality.

"No," this time Harry looked away with a face the professor couldn't place - was he embarrassed he hit his friend?

"No," the Gryffindor said again, his voice shaking and cracking, "he said... He said it was my fault... about Ginny and Charlie. And he's right."

That... Weasel...

It wasn't the most mature thought, but it was by far the cleanest he could come up with compared to what he wanted to say as a former Death Eater. Severus knew in this reality more than his old one, Ron had always been frustrated at being in Harry's shadow, but this time he had gone too far. As his best friend, he should have known Harry would already be mistakenly blaming himself for all that was happening in the war.

For a moment he was brought back to the memory of when he said something just as damaging to his own best friend and he questioned if, like with Lily, this would be the last straw to break the boys' friendship. Unfortunately, due to Harry's neglectful upbringing, he was the most forgiving person Severus had ever known - even more so than Lily - but this was something even he shouldn't forgive.

"Harry look at me" he broke the awkward silence by calling Harry's given name, something that still always got the teen's attention. His eyes met Harry's and he could see the sorrow deep within them. Being the Boy-Who-Lived and now The Chosen One really was too much pressure to put on a 16-year old boy.

"This is not your fault," he continued keeping eye contact with Harry, "you are not responsible for the Dark Lord's actions nor Bellatrix's actions. You are not responsible for Mr. Weasley's reaction to such actions. You are not at fault for anything that happens during this war. Sometimes bad things happen, and there is nothing we cosmically do to cause any such events. You are not a bad person."

The professor could see the struggle within Harry as he said the words the young wizard needed to not only just hear, but to understand. Harry's jaw was clenched and he simply shook his head in acknowledgement, knowing that any words would be met with tears. Satisfied for the moment, Severus placed a supportive hand on Harry's boney shoulder having no idea how much worse the day was about to get.

"It's only a matter of time before he finds out," Severus angrily explained to the Headmaster in his office only an hour after breakfast, "and I'd highly suggest it comes from someone in the Order instead of the Prophet."

Charlie Weasley's body was found that morning in the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, clearly placed as a symbolic message floating above where the Fountain of Magical Breathen lay still destroyed. His clothing was dirty and torn to bits, and his body - still in the condition as if he were only killed yesterday - was littered with deep cuts and burns. It was determined that while his cause of death was officially the killing curse, as Draco had reported, unfortunately it was not before withstanding several rounds of torture. It was clear that his last 24 hours alive were anything but peaceful.

When the body was discovered just after dawn, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were called to the new Minister, Rufus Scrimgeour's office and were then taken to Grimmauld Place to be with the rest of their family. No one had yet told Harry, who was recovering from the IT chemotherapy in the hospital wing before going back to their quarters to start the 5 hour chemotherapy, and Severus was now with the Headmaster trying to determine how to proceed. Of all the days for this discovery, Severus questioned if it could have been intentionally planned; a thought that concerned him greatly.

"Obviously we cannot let Harry find out from the papers," Albus said pacing the floor in front of his desk. "I'm simply pointing out the fact that he will be sequestered in your quarters until at least next Saturday and there are few places he would hear of this news. Therefore, we can use that to our advantage and delay until he's well enough to handle it."

Severus knew on some level the headmaster was right even though it felt so wrong. Harry absolutely would not handle the news of Charlie Weasley's death well and at the start of a four day treatment - with new medications they had no idea how he'll react to - was probably the worst time to tell him. Then there was also the fact that he would not be permitted to attend the funeral, however based on the physical altercation of the previous night, that might be for the best. Severus knew good and well what happens when you show up unwelcomed to a funeral and he had no intentions of repeating that in this reality.

"Fine," the younger professor reluctantly agreed. "Let's see how he handles the new medications after tomorrow and then we can determine when to tell him."

"I shall leave that decision up to you," Albus stated the twinkle in his eyes having returned, "Am I correct to assume that our young Harry knows where you've come from and the nature of your relationship there?"

Severus peered over at his mentor and gave a swift nod. This decision could easily backfire and break the delicate trust he'd managed to build with Harry thus far, but at the same time it could just as easily break Harry's spirit. There was only so much one person could be pushed before giving in and he feared getting this information at the wrong time would do exactly that to him. Therefore, it was a calculated risk he was willing to take.

"Now that we've covered that topic," Albus said, still pacing his office, "what do you make of the presentation?"

"It's clearly a statement," the former spy answered, "likely that the Dark Lord has enough people within the Ministry to get in and out in the middle of the night without so much as an alarm going off. Of course, we have always known he's had help from within, so it's nothing new. I'm more curious of the timing."

"Very good point Severus.," the headmaster continued taking a seat in the plush armchair across from him, "why now?"

Severus was hesitant to answer. While he obviously thought that waiting until Harry was at one of his lowest times wasn't a coincidence, there were few people who would have known such a fact. At best, there could have been some leak within the Order and at worst, there was a leak on Harry's medical team. While the Order knew the details of Harry's condition, they did not know his chemotherapy schedule so that would mean it was partially coincidental that they waited 5 days to stage the body. Harry's medical team who would have intimate knowledge of how Harry was both handling the chemotherapy as well as when he would be starting this next round consisted of himself, Alton, Poppy, and Albus - plus the Weasley's and Hermione would also have those details - none of which he wanted to even consider to be traitors. Then there was always the option of it truly being coincidental. There was no real way at this single point to discern between those options.

"I don't know Albus," he ultimately said. "I can't help but think that it was deliberate based on Harry's schedule; to hit him when he's down, however the implications of that are horrific."

"I am in agreement with you my boy, but I see few other options."

Severus grimaced just thinking about it. They were between a rock and a hard place with the walls closing in; no option was a good one.

"I can have Draco keep a close ear out should he be summoned in the near future. Maybe he can identify why this date was chosen and if we have a traitor amongst us," the professor offered. "Outside of that, we should make sure someone we can trust, without a doubt, stays with Harry as much as possible. I'll brush up on my muggle medicine some more to double check everything that gets administered to him."

"Very good. I will get you a list of people to help you with Harry," Albus said after a thoughtful pause, sadness running through his eyes. "Go be with him Severus, your boy needs you now more than ever."

-HR-

When Severus returned to the hospital wing, he was far more alert than before his conversation with Albus. His instincts told him Alton was not going to intentionally harm Harry, but until he knew what was going on he would not take any chances regardless of whom it was.

Harry was lying flat on the hospital bed, waiting for the chemo medication to spread throughout his spinal cord, when Severus continued walking towards Madam Pomfrey's office. Based on what time he started and the time Severus was with the headmaster, they should be on their way back to their quarters any minute.

"Alton," the professor said calling his friend away from Harry's bedside, "how is everything going?"

"At this point, he's used to the IT so as normal as can be," Alton replied, a little skeptical. "Why do you ask?"

Severus thought about how much to share. He did not get as far as he had in his complicated life without being able to make these types of decisions quickly.

"I need you to be able to do the Intrathecal in my quarters going forward," he was trying to be intentionally vague. "Harry had an altercation with Miss Weasley's brother yesterday and I do not want them to cross paths unintentionally during any treatments."

The healer gave Severus a concerned glare, "Was that the cause of those bruises on his back? "

"Unfortunately, yes. At this point, it's in Harry's best interest to prevent any future issues." That certainly was not his best work, but it got the point across.

"Of course," Alton said understandingly, "I'll get you a list of what I need to do the treatments down there. Poppy will need to assist if that's ok."

Severus nodded, turning towards the matron working on Ginny Weasley. Their family had already lost one son and have a higher chance than there ever should be at losing their only daughter. He was torn between being sympathetic to their situation and angry with Ron's attitude towards Harry.

"Is he ready?" Severus asked impatiently, tabling the other thoughts in his mind for now.

"Yes he is. I'll meet you both down there to get started on the next set."

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry was lying on his bed, back in his favorite pair of green flannel pyjamas with only about an hour left of the first day's chemo; the fight with Ron weighing heavily on his mind. No one would ever believe that Harry could actually understand Ron for blaming him, he already blamed himself for a lot of the things that had happened in his life. What was bothering him the most - what kept eating away at his mind - was the regret he heard in the redhead's voice; it continued ringing through Harry's head. It was as if Ron's life would have been better had they never met on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago. This was beyond the Heir of Slytherin fiasco, or all of last year where the half the school thought he was a liar about Voldemort's return, this even went further than the Triwizard Tournament row they'd had. Harry didn't see how they would reconcile from this one and since he hated putting Hermione in the middle of them, he had basically lost her too. Once again he found himself feeling alone in the world.

"May I come in?" he heard Snape's baritone voice ask from his bedroom doorway.

As always Snape looked completely exhausted even after their - relatively speaking - easy week, yet he never complained. Harry wondered how they were going to manage once school started and the professor had classes, detentions, his own house to manage, and school functions to keep up with especially since he doubted Mrs. Weasley would want to stay with him after everything that happened with Ron. A heavy blanket of guilt fell over Harry's heart.

"Sure," Harry said, making to sit up, but Snape held his hand up for him to stay laying on the bed, so Harry simply shifted to face his professor. "Is everything ok sir?"

"Not really Harry," Severus tried not to sound too foreboding but knew it was likely not working, "given what happened yesterday, I think it is best if you do not continue to visit Miss Weasley in the hospital wing. At least not for the immediate future."

Harry looked over towards the enchanted window. It was almost dinnertime and the sun finally started to peek out from the clouds just in time to set over the black lake. He tried not to think about when the last time he was outside and how much he wished he could go flying at that exact moment.

"I know sir. I don't think I'm going anywhere anyway." Deep down he had known he wouldn't get to see Ginny anymore, but it still hurt to hear.

Snape waved his wand and a set of books came flying into the bedroom and settled on Harry's desk. The professor picked one up - to Harry, it looked like a muggle book on medicine - and started reading while making notes in the margins with one of Harry's muggle pens. It was an odd sight not only to see the professor surrounded by muggle things, but also because after everything they'd done for over a month, it seemed a bit late for Snape to be doing this much research about his cancer.

"Ok, Harry," the teen lifted his head as Healer Smithe called cheerfully while walking into the room presumably from the floo, "you are done for today."

"Thank Merlin," it hadn't been an overly difficult time, but he was always relieved to be done.

"Madam Pomfrey will be administering the next two sets of chemotherapy tomorrow and Monday," he disconnected the port, flushing it out afterwards, and started putting away the materials. "She'll be here at half past nine o'clock in the morning and it should last roughly 4 hours, plus the time for the antiemetic prior and possibly morphine afterwards. So, then... I will see you on Tuesday."

Harry nodded yet again, feeling his eyes getting heavy as Snape said goodbye to the healer.

Maybe I can just sleep through all the side effects today...

"Do you think you can eat something?" Snape asked him sitting back at the desk. At this point, they both knew that it was never a matter of if Harry was hungry, because he never was anymore, instead it was if he could eat or not.

As if on cue, Harry reached for the pail and started forcefully vomiting what was left of the small lunch he managed to force down a couple of hours ago. He was vaguely aware of the bed dipping beside him and Snape's hand gently running across his still sore back.

His head and scar started to ache terribly and then, for reasons he'd never know, while he was leaning over his bed, still holding the pail in front of his face, feeling the soft circles of Snape's hand on his lower back, a flash of a vision sprang up in front of his eyes-

The dungeons where a body lay in the corner, seemingly forgotten, only his dirty red hair could be seen... The feeling of anticipation for what was to come... back to The Ministry of Magic; how easy it was to get in again, the world at his fingertips to do with what he'd like... Finally deciding that this was the perfect place for his display.

Harry immediately started vomiting again, but this time for a completely different reason. He finally knew - Charlie Weasley was dead. His body was now sitting at the Ministry of Magic.

Seeing another round of vomiting starting so close to the first, Snape stood up off the bed and kneeled down beside it, taking hold of the pail when the teen's hands started shaking too much to hold it. When the round turned to dry heaves and then finally subsided, Harry fell onto his knees on the floor, immediately throwing his hands to cover his face and started crying, not caring if the man next to him could hear the sobs. Another person had died because of him; how many more people would continue to die so he could fulfill this damned prophecy? How could his one life really be worth more than all of these other people's lives?

"Harry?" he heard Snape whisper into his ear, startling him. "What is wrong?"

Harry didn't care what anyone would have said if they saw him. Ron would have had a fit, but did that really matter anymore? His friend would never forgive him now anyway, not once he found out his brother was dead. All Harry knew was in that moment it felt right when he reached over and continued to cry onto Snape's shoulder. It also felt right when Snape draped his arms across Harry's shoulders pulling him into a strong embrace. Harry continued to cry against the man that he subconsciously knew had been there for him through this last awful month and a half. He felt hopeless and desperately needed someone to help hold him up, otherwise he was sure he'd never make it back. When it finally seemed like the young wizard had gained some kind of control over himself, he leaned back against the bed trying to hide his embarrassment.

"Charlie's dead," he said sitting forward to rest his head on his lifted knees. "I saw his body in a cell somewhere and now he's at the Ministry of Magic."

Snape stiffened, "Was this a vision? Just now?"

Harry nodded, his face still resting on his knees muffling his answer, "Yes, it was a vision. I think I'm going to be sick again."

Snape leaned over and grabbed the pail just in time for more vomiting, not caring if it was the chemotherapy or anxiety causing it. This was not how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be able to break this news gently to Harry.

"We have to tell the Weasley's," Harry said, speaking quickly, his ears turning red with embarrassment. He lifted his head, his glasses were askew and his eyes were red and swollen with tears, "They're going to hate me even more now."

"They already know Harry," the professor said, summoning a glass of water that he handed to the distraught Gryffindor. "His body was found this morning."

"You knew didn't you? When was he killed?"

"That is not important Harry," he said, voice full of sorrow. "Look at me."

There was a brief hesitation, but Harry eventually looked up at Snape, emerald green eyes dulled with pain - physical and emotional - met black eyes filled with concern for the teenager in front of him.

"This had nothing to do with you," Snape said clearly so Harry had no choice but to listen, reiterating the message he gave only hours earlier. "The Order and the Aurors are taking care of this and right now all you need to focus on is taking care of yourself."

"This all seems so pointless! People are literally dying while I sit here doing nothing. I should-"

Snape raised his hand cutting off the excuse that was surely coming from the Gryffindor. "This is not pointless," Snape angrily exclaimed, "I did not come back here to save you only to watch you die at the hands of Voldemort. I will not let that happen!"

Harry's eyes went wide for two reasons; this was the first time Snape had admitted explicitly that whatever it was he did to come to this world was to save Harry's life. However the reason he settled on saying to the professor was, "You said his name."

"It got your attention, did it not?" the former spy said holding his left forearm trying to hide his pain, "I think you need a change of scenery. Let's go to the sitting room."

"Thank you Severus," Harry eventually said after thinking through what had happened. He leaned against the man once again before they walked to the sitting room. "For everything you've done for me."

~~~~SS~~~~

The rest of Saturday night was spent out in the sitting room with Harry falling in and out of sleep on the sofa timed, not so surprisingly, based on when his pain medication was wearing off. Breakthrough pain - the term the professor found when searching through the muggle textbooks - was common in cancer patients as the threshold of pain was over that which many commonly used medications could stop. Severus spent the night with a cup of coffee, reviewing as many of the muggle medical books as he could. He had notes scribbled throughout the books and what started as just familiarizing himself with the names, purposes, and side effects of Harry's plentiful medications turned into a deep desire to find out how Harry managed to get the Leukemia in the first place; an endeavor that would require extensive muggle and wizarding research. Intuition told him this was important to figure out at any cost and, for better or worse, his intuition was usually correct.

He must have fallen asleep because sometime around three in the morning, he felt the now familiar buzz of the sphere waking him up. Confused, because Harry should have been asleep on the sofa beside him, he walked the all too familiar route to the lavatory. Harry was sitting against the wall on the floor doubled over in pain, holding his stomach, sweat beading down his face, his pyjamas clinging to his chest.

Not again...

"I-I don't know... what happened," he said from the floor as Severus knelt down besides Harry with a heavy heart.

"Is it your stomach? Different from nausea?" The professor reached out to feel Harry's forehead, confirming there was no fever.

"Y-yes," Harry nodded as he said it. "It's the... b-burning again."

Alton mentioned that the new Saturday-only medication could cause stomach pain, but this not only seemed excessive, but Harry yet again has described it as burning. He summoned Harry's red blanket and draped it over the teen's shoulders hoping to warm him up as much as he could.

"Let me go call Alton," he said, walking out to firecall his friend hating that he had to leave Harry alone in the bathroom.

Even though Healer Smithe lived in the muggle world, when he agreed to take on Harry as a patient full-time, he added his fireplace to the floo network in case of an emergency. Thus less than 5 minutes later, the healer was entering Severus's sitting room and quickly running to the lavatory.

The Potions Master stayed at the door while the healer ran through several diagnostic spells and collected blood samples for his muggle testing. Yet again, everything came back normal from the diagnostic spells. Severus punched the door frame in frustration because while he would rather nothing else be wrong, normal meant he couldn't do anything to fix it.

"Unfortunately, consolidation does tend to be hard on the body, similar to the induction phase. People think that getting the Leukemia into remission is the difficult part, but keeping it gone can be just as taxing.

"You can consider a morphine pump, but honestly given how the IV is helping now that might be an extreme I'm not sure we're at yet," Alton said once Harry was back in his bedroom with an IV of morphine allowing him enough relief to fall asleep. "I'll stay until this bag ends and then let's see how he does the next couple of days. It might only be the Cyclophosphamide, which is done only the first two Saturdays of each round and we can plan on utilizing the IV morphine on those days. "

With a hard sigh, the professor went back to sit by Harry's bed. This was the best plan they had and Severus absolutely hated it.

Luckily, Sunday's chemo saw less pain than Saturday's. Harry was still plagued with the nausea and vomiting along with what they now appropriately named normal-pain, but unfortunately they were both getting used to that - eat when you can, sleep when you can.

Severus was livid when Albus called an Order meeting Sunday night at headquarters which he was required to attend. Since Draco was not allowed to be at any meetings, all correspondence to and from their newest spy had to go through Severus. Unfortunately this meant his presence was needed at every meeting and it left very few options to stay with Harry. He was nearly about to risk skipping the meeting altogether when Minerva firecalled to remind him that she was Harry's guardian and had no qualms about dealing with Albus for skipping the gathering to stay with him.

Minerva was set to arrive only five minutes before the Order meeting leaving Severus with as little time as possible to socialize before its start, something he hated doing on the best of days and definitely didn't want to deal with today. He had planned to meet with Draco before her arrival, so after dressing in his typical black robes, which he had not worn nearly enough this summer holiday, he sat back down in his office to review the medical books and journals.

The parchment appeared directly in front of his face shortly after starting Muggle Diseases in Witches and Wizards: An Introduction to a Medicinal and Healing Cross-Discipline announcing Draco's arrival.

"Evening Severus," Draco arrogantly greeted as the professor opened his door.

"You seem smug this evening," Severus replied, leading Draco into the sitting room, not in the mood for any of the blonde Slytherin's antics tonight.

"Well, let's just say it feels good to finally be appreciated for something," he then had a disgruntled look about his face, "even if I'm not trusted enough to actually attend the meetings."

This had been a point of conflict with the teenager. Naturally, he assumed that taking the dark mark would automatically put him at the same level of respect Severus had, to which the professor grimmly laughed. Instead, most members of the order still had at least one good reason not to trust Draco regardless of his proclaimed change of allegiance - something Severus himself still fought at each Order meeting. In the end, it was decided that Draco would not attend the meetings as a way to help compartmentalize the information should Draco be captured and tortured for information. Simply put, one could not divulge secrets - accidentally or intentionally - if that person did not have those secrets to begin with.

"We do this to win a war," the former spy explained, "not to feed your ego. If you're not up to the task let me know, though I doubt at this point you'd live long enough to enjoy wherever it is you end up."

Draco narrowed his eyes to his mentor deciding to cut the supposed pleasantries, "What is it you need from me?"

"We need to know why the Dark Lord chose to release the body yesterday," Severus said plainly.

Draco didn't hide his confused face fast enough; showing yet another skill the professor would need work with him on.

"Why does it matter?"

"To you it does not; all you need to concern yourself with is finding out if that date had any significance," he was losing his patience with the teenager in front of him but decided this time to provide a little more direction than what was completely necessary. "If, for example, the Dark Lord wanted a large audience to prove a point, one would think a weekday would have been preferred. Since that is not what happened, we need to know if the date was significant and if so, why."

The clock above the mantle read five to eight, Minerva would be here any second. Severus stood signaling a dismissal to his young protégé. As expected, the floo roared to life and Minerva gracefully stepped out in her casual tartan robes, hair still in its signature tight bun. She moved to greet Severus, eyeing Draco; surprised to see the young Slytherin casually standing in the room.

"Good evening Severus," Minerva said, still keeping a close watch on Draco, "I take it I can expect no problems here tonight?"

"None at all" Severus grabbed Draco's arm, a bit harder than necessary, "Mr. Malfoy was just leaving."

Draco nodded both in his agreement to leave and that he understood what his first real assignment was to be with the Death Eaters. As soon as Severus heard the outside door to his quarters close, he turned to Minerva.

"Harry shouldn't have any issues for you as he recently had his medication and is thankfully sleeping," he looked away from his colleague's intrigued and sympathetic eyes.

"We'll be fine Severus," she said, picking up on how uncomfortable he was with this conversation. "I'll follow up with Albus directly about the meeting. You go before you're late!"

In the end, it was indeed beneficial for him to have attended the meeting. He learned Charlie's funeral was set for the following Saturday afternoon, meaning even if Harry was welcome to go - which Molly insisted he was and that Ron had gotten severely punished and a lecture about the value of friendship - he would not be able to go. He dreaded merely the thought of telling Harry that news.

He also learned Bill was making significant progress on breaking the unknown curse used on Ginny. He turned to Severus asking if he'd known the core material of Bellatrix's wand. The information was needed to help isolate pieces of the dark magic she had used as part of the curse. Unfortunately Severus did not know that information offhand, but said he would consult with Draco so they could obtain it. This was to be a top priority to the Order; the longer Ginny went untreated the harder it would be to remove the curse.

The only update he provided was that Draco had succeeded in taking the dark mark - something Molly thought was deplorable of them as a group to support and nearly walked out looking as if she wanted to slap Albus in the process - but that Draco still had a long way to get even close to the rank to replace Severus. The headmaster agreed to put together a set of innocuous information Draco could feed to Voldemort to help boost his level of trust within the ranks, similar to what he did for Severus all those years ago.

"Severus," Molly called out to him as he was about to floo back to his quarters the second the meeting ended. Trying not to audibly sigh, he turned to Molly; he should have anticipated this.

"How's Harry feeling?"

Her kind eyes tore straight through him and he questioned for the first time if this woman would have been in his place had he not changed realities. Would Harry have been living at the Burrow this whole time instead?

"Not well I'm afraid. I should-" he started.

"Please," Molly interrupted in a voice that was both sweet and angry at the same time, "let him know that we don't place any blame on him. Ron is practically grounded until he gets married for both what he said and did. I cannot believe his choice of actions. When Harry's up for visitors, I would love to come by and see him."

The professor pinched the bridge of his nose and said noncommittally before leaving, "I'll relay the message."

When he landed back in his quarters he was relieved to find it was still quiet and calm. Not seeing Minerva in the sitting room, he immediately went to Harry's bedroom listening carefully for the telltale signs of his vomiting. Satisfied with the silence, he peeked in and breathed a sigh of relief as Harry lay asleep in his bed. He carefully pulled the green bedspread neatly over Harry's thin frame and as silently as he entered, left the room.

Minerva had just finished making a pot of tea in the kitchen when Severus entered. Without saying a word, she carefully set out two cups on the table and generously poured the tea into them and then placed a plate of biscuits on the table alongside the tea. For a moment Severus forgot he was in his own quarters.

"You don't need to do this alone Severus," Minerva lectured once they were both seated, a blanket draped neatly over her shoulders keeping her warm against the cool dungeon air. "Not only is it too much for one person to do alone, it's hardly your responsibility."

"If I remember correctly, you were the one who challenged me to get Harry to his follow up appointment," that conversation seemed like it happened years ago. Sometime when he thought hard enough about it, his other reality also seemed like years ago, except the day of Harry's death; that day would forever haunt him regardless of whichever reality he lived in.

"I hardly expected it to play out as it has," she said carefully, "no one could have expected something like this to happen."

Severus took a too long sip of his tea - chamomile, an appropriate choice for the night - while trying to avoid eye contact with his colleague, but failed. One quick glance up and she could tell somehow he had known about it. She gave a small gasp and covered her mouth with her aged, but not frail, hand.

"Severus, don't tell me you somehow had knowledge about this?" She waited for him to deny her accusation. When he didn't, she shook her head and continued, "Either way, that still does not mean you need to handle an ill child all alone, especially one that until recently you despised. Let me help you."

It had been a trying weekend between Harry's care, Charlie Weasley's death, the Order meeting, and Draco's training. Somehow while all of that was weighing in on his mind, when he started talking to his former professor and probably the closest person to a friend he had at Hogwarts besides Albus, it wasn't about any of that at all. Instead he told her all about his other life; about the adoption, about the Dark Lord or lack thereof, about the cancer and the infamous crossroads, about Harry's death, and about coming back to this world. He filled her in on what had happened since waking up here; the appointments and diagnosis, the surgery for Harry's port placement, about Harry's relatives and cousin, and about how responsible he felt for the young man sleeping down the hall, who still felt like his son, but in this life he somehow managed to slip through every crack leaving him practically alone.

Minerva listened without prejudice. She kept an open mind when Severus said he had lived another life and didn't interrupt when he spoke, almost in a trance, about the life he'd built for himself and Harry, the biological son of his school time nemesis. She didn't even try holding back the tears when she learned of Harry's death in that other life. She continued to pour them tea until it was well past midnight and Severus warned that she should go since Harry would probably wake up soon as he was close to needing his next dose of pain medication. Minerva placed her hand over Severus's and told him she would stay and help.

While Severus may have walked out of a calm home that evening and back into one, it was anything but calm during the Order meeting. Harry had been up several times vomiting until he had no more energy to move. Minerva sat with him on the lavatory floor covering him in a blanket, even though he was sweating, before she managed to help him back into bed. It was at that moment, she vowed to help Severus in any and all ways that she could and after hearing his story of how he lived a different life she was more determined than ever to help him gain back what he had lost. After all, both of those boys deserved nothing less.

~~~~AU SS~~~~

Severus walked into the sitting room in his home on Spinner's End after spending another night of long hours in his potions lab. This summer he had been working on a commissioned project and although it paid well, it also made for a lot of late nights. It was after midnight, so he was surprised to see Harry still up and sitting at the desk writing.

"You're up late," Severus said quietly so as not to surprise his son from behind.

Harry, who celebrated his 15th birthday only two weeks ago, turned around - not at all surprised - with an apprehensive look in his eyes.

"Aunt Petunia died three days ago," Harry said in a daze holding up what Severus assumed to be the latest correspondence with his cousin Dudley.

Severus would have been happy if Harry had never spoken to the Dursleys ever again, however the Gryffindor had a capacity for forgiveness that rivaled Lily's, so when Dudley asked to meet with Harry last summer, Severus supported him. The meeting had gone surprisingly well and since then the two boys had been writing to each other regularly and even met up over the last Easter break. Now, the professor could hear the confliction in his son's voice from this news.

"How do you feel about that?" He asked treading lightly; planning to follow Harry's lead on it. He pulled up a chair next to the desk Harry was sitting at.

"It was a car accident, isn't that ironic? For all the times they lied to me about how my parents died... It's karma," Harry said unprompted, then he paused before continuing, "I feel bad for Dudley. Besides that, I don't really feel much of anything. Is that wrong of me?"

"Not at all," Severus said squeezing Harry's shoulder in support. "In fact, I think that's quite normal given the situation you were in."

Severus wished he could understand what Harry was going through. This was another example of Harry's pure soul because when Tobias Snape died only two months after Severus took the dark mark, he didn't even feel an ounce of grief for his father's death nor any guilt about not feeling any grief. If anything he was happy to never see the man again. Harry though was visibly torn by this news and his feelings regarding it.

"Dudley asked me to attend the funeral this Sunday," the young wizard said, turning his attention fully to Severus. "Will you come with me?"

The professor paused, frozen in time; was this really a good idea? No, he knew that without even thinking too hard about it. The last time he'd seen the Dursley's he had more than made a scene in their pristine, perfect neighborhood. That being said, he could not deny Harry the request if he needed the support.

"Of course," he said knowing this was going to be a bad idea all around.

It was raining when Severus woke up Sunday morning, the day of Petunia Dursley's funeral. The night before, he had transfigured their dress robes into black muggle suits so they wouldn't stand out for the occasion. The last thing anyone needed was to have Vernon Dursley running his mouth about magic and freaks, however that also meant he could not use any spells to keep themselves dry from the pouring rain. It was bound to be a miserable day for them all.

They were dressed and ready in plenty of time and Severus disapparated them near the cemetery in Surrey. They walked to the cemetery in silence; Severus running through all the things he should not do today should any issues arise.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked Harry one more time before they made their way into the crowd.

"Yeah," Harry said leaning onto his father, "I have to do this, not just for Dudley, but for myself too."

"I understand," the professor replied solemnly pointing to a couple of chairs in the back row. He had plenty of practice in his life trying not to stand out in a crowd. "Just in case, let's sit near the back."

They took their seats for the small service by the graveside, covered in an awning to protect the guests from the heavy rain, and watched carefully as Dudley and Vernon approached. It was a lovely service and somehow they managed to find four people to speak of what a wonderful woman, wife, and mother Petunia was causing Severus the need to use every Occlumency shield he had to remain calm. The woman was vile and deserved none of what was being said. When they asked if anyone else had words about Petunia they would like to share, it was difficult for Severus to resist, but a funeral was no place for a fight.

After the service, as everyone was gathering before heading back to Privet Drive for the reception - luckily something Harry did not wish to attend - Severus walked with Harry slowly up to the gravesite of his aunt. There were framed pictures all around showing a seemingly perfect life that she had lived with her husband and son and zero evidence that her nephew had lived with them for 10 long and painful years.

"Excuse me," an elderly woman with short curled grey hair tapped Harry on the shoulder and Severus was instantly on alert for any trouble. "Are you that Potter boy? Petunia's nephew?"

It was obvious Harry recognized this woman and was surprised that she specifically called him out, "Hi Mrs. Carewell, yes that's me."

"It's so good to see you son," she patted his arm in sympathy, "I had wondered what happened to you. It seemed you just never came back one summer after... What school was that? Venon said something for criminals?"

Severus couldn't stand to listen to anymore of this nonsense and cleared his throat to interrupt the conversation, "Harry goes to a school for the gifted."

Mrs. Carewell started to blush, "That makes much more sense. You were always such a quiet boy. And who are you?" She asked of Severus; his dark hair and black suit made him look intimidating to anyone who didn't already know him - and maybe a few that did.

"Oh," Harry said without missing a beat and a smile on his face for the first time that day, "this is my fath-"

"YOU!"

Severus was instantly on alert, standing directly in between Harry and the direction of the unmistakable sound of Vernon Dursley yelling across the lawn. If that arsehole thought he was going to try to lay a hand on Harry, it would be the last thing he did on this Earth. Severus wouldn't care one bit that they were at the funeral for the man's wife, he would do whatever it took to protect Harry.

On cue, Vernon waddled up to them faster than a man of that size should be able to; his face purple with rage.

"How dare you show your face here?" Harry's irate uncle growled at him beyond Severus's shoulder.

The other guests were murmuring - Mrs. Carewell had long left - but none attempted to step in and help even as Vernon reached for Harry. Luckily, Severus had been well trained, just in case, as both a Death Eater and spy and grabbed the man's arm, inches from Harry's chest, twisting as he pulled the large man away from Harry. As expected, Vernon bellowed in pain, something that Severus didn't feel bad about one bit.

"Dad!" Severus turned at the word, not lightening up his grip at all, but it was not Harry that called him. Instead, Dudley was coming down the hill towards all the commotion speaking to Vernon. "Leave 'em alone Dad, I asked Harry to be here."

With Dudley now directly in front of them and, if possible, even more spectators looking on, Severus let go of his grip simultaneously backing up closer to Harry. Dudley pulled Vernon away, talking quickly to the man, until somehow he convinced Harry's uncle to leave them be.

"Thanks Dudley," Harry greeted his cousin while watching Vernon walk away with a defiant look to his face. "I'm sorry about you mum."

~~~~SS~~~~

"What do you mean I can't go?" Harry asked, sounding completely defeated after breakfast on Wednesday morning, which for the young Gryffindor consisted of only a smoothie as he was still queasy from the four days of chemotherapy.

Given how hard the last set of treatments were on him, Severus had made the decision to wait to tell Harry about not being able to attend Charlie's funeral until now, knowing it would be an issue.

"Is there a certain part you're having a difficult time grasping?" Severus asked partially sarcastic, partially because he wanted Harry to get to the conclusion himself. It had been a rough couple of nights for Harry, and by extension Severus, so neither were in the best mood to discuss the upcoming funeral arrangements.

"Do you always answer a question with a question?" Harry spat back without much bite behind it, but he got his point across. "Because it's bloody annoying sometimes."

"Watch the language. Let's go through this again," Snape said slowly and a bit more condescending than he meant but he didn't appreciate having to explain himself twice since Harry likely didn't listen to much after he knew he would not be allowed to attend, "First, the Weasley's are a big family and quite well known, ergo there will likely be at least a hundred people present all of which could infect you unknowingly with a wide range of infectious germs.

"Second," Severus said interrupting Harry before he could get a word in edgewise, "I highly doubt you'd like to cause any problems that may arise when the youngest Mr. Weasley sees you at his brother's funeral; no one wants any fighting - muggle or wizarding - at a funeral. Trust me, it's not something you want to experience.

"Lastly, and the one I deem the most significant, you will literally be in the middle of your five hour chemotherapy. So unless you plan on doing it from the gravesite, you simply cannot go."

Somehow Harry managed to give Severus a fiery glare which he removed the moment Minerva walked into the kitchen presumably from the floo. She walked in and peered between the professor and student clearly having heard the tail end of their conversation.

"Harry," his transfiguration professor said walking confidently up to her lion, correctly guessing why he was so upset, "Severus is just doing what's in your best interest, I know it's hard to see that right now."

Severus was grateful for Minerva's help the last two days as she had been over each day to help Harry through his four hour chemotherapy. The new medications were hitting Harry hard, which was difficult for all of them. So now Harry had two adults fully watching him and Severus guessed he was feeling a bit suffocated from it being so different than what he's used to.

Eventually Harry sat back down at the table and looked over to Severus with sad eyes, "I need to go sir. Sirius didn't have a funeral and I couldn't go to my aunt and uncle's funeral, not that I particularly wanted to go to that one, but it's just..." He took a cleansing breath but didn't finish.

"I'm sorry Harry, but you cannot go," Severus explained placing his hand on top of Harry's. He understood where Harry was coming from; he wanted closure for the deaths he felt directly responsible for, no matter how mistakenly placed that blame was. "Alternatively, if you'd like, Molly had asked to come see you when you're feeling up for visitors. I can ask her to come over beforehand."

"No," Harry immediately responded, "she has enough to worry about this week without adding me to the mix of it all."

The professor was positive Harry believed that excuse, but he suspected it was more that he was afraid she would blame him as Ron had done even though Severus assured him she did not feel the same.

~~~~HP~~~~

As expected Harry tried to plead yet again come Friday that he wanted to go to Charlie's funeral, which Snape repeatedly denied on the same grounds as before. At this point, he knew there was literally zero chance he would be able to go and he just didn't have the energy to continue to argue against Snape any longer, especially in the professor's currently short mood.

Harry had been plagued with nightmares every night that week - most likely from thoughts of the funeral - which kept him up most nights and every time he was up, Snape was up with him. Harry appreciated this sentiment, even if it embarrassed him a little, because he was used to dealing with them alone both at Privet Drive and in the dorms here at school. This, however, led to a short temper for both of them by the end of the week and as a result Snape spent most of the days locked away in his office or lab.

Professor McGonagall had dinner with them on Friday night, which was awkward for Harry because even though he'd gotten used to seeing his professors casually now, he had never had such a private dinner with his Head of House before. She was more relaxed than he'd ever seen her and Harry was able to see the true friendship between her and Snape; even if the defense professor would never admit to such a thing. Before she left that night, she promised to send his well wishes to the Weasley's for him at the funeral the next afternoon. It wasn't exactly ideal for Harry, but it was the best he was going to get.

Saturday morning - the day of Charlie's funeral and the start of Harry's second week of consolidation chemotherapy - he already had the intrathecal done and was laying on the sofa in the sitting room having recently started his 5 hour medication when Snape rushed into the room from his private office looking wildly around the room clearly disturbed over something.

Since that door housed both his office and laboratory Harry couldn't say for sure which one the professor had recently been using. The Gryffindor knew Snape's dark mark had started burning again at least once this week because he had seen the wrapping around Snape's forearm; showing that the latest burn salve had not worked, likely contributing to the professor's foul mood. He had heard Malfoy stop by that same night, but no matter how many times he tried to listen in at the office door, it was clearly warded against eavesdropping. This led him to believe the professor had been working on the salve most of the time, but since he valued his life, he didn't dare ask.

Interestingly, Snape was dressed in his black teaching robes which made Harry's anxiety rise just thinking about classes with him. There were only two weeks left until the start of term, and he was relieved he would not have to endure classes with Snape at least to start. He was honestly nervous about where his relationship stood with the professor, given everything they've dealt with this summer. Would things go back to the way they used to be when they both mutually hated each other, even though they no longer did? Or would they shock the rest of the school when they actually got along?

"Where are you going?" Harry asked watching the professor pace the room searching for something.

"Where is my book?" Snape asked to no one in particular, but Harry was the only one in the room.

If the chemo hadn't already started taking its toll on Harry and he were feeling better, he would have laughed at Snape's vague comment. Not only was it abnormal for something to be out of place in his quarters, but there were literally dozens upon dozens of books stored here. It was like asking for a specific snowflake in the middle of a blizzard.

"Care to give me any information on which book?" Harry waited as Snape continued to search going to and from his office, then into the kitchen, and finally - Harry assumed - to the professor's bedroom. When Snape came back into the sitting room, he was carrying a large stack of parchment and one of the muggle medical books. "Are you eventually going to answer me?"

Snape turned around to look at the teenager behind him and Harry's heart rate rose with the glare he received. Something was off and it was concerning that it fell on the day of Charlie's funeral.

"Unfortunately I am needed elsewhere this afternoon," he hesitantly replied which was a surprise to Harry; where was he going? "Alton will be staying with you until my return."

"Where are you going?" He'd officially gone in a full circle. That was the first question he'd asked Snape and yet after all this time it still went unanswered, which probably was not a coincidence.

"It is none of your concern."

Should have expected that. I'm really getting tired of that answer.

Harry watched as Snape was sorting through the pieces of parchment appearing to put them in some kind of order, not at all hiding his agitation. Was he angry that Harry had been up with nightmares all week?

"What's wrong sir?" Harry had been living almost exclusively with Snape for six weeks and he shivered at the thought that he could now tell when something was legitimately wrong with the professor versus when he was simply annoyed. This definitely seemed like the former.

However, before Snape could say another word, the floo roared to life and Healer Smithe came walking out with his standard black bag. Harry was briefly jealous and questioned to himself how a wizard who has been living in the muggle world for so long managed to floo better than he did. He was committed to learning to tolerate at least one form of common magical travel.

"Good afternoon Harry," the healer greeted making himself comfortable in the sitting room by pulling out some of his files to review while sitting in the non-Snape armchair. Now the Gryffindor officially felt like a toddler being babysat, but remembering how last Saturday went he couldn't say much against it. He was extremely nervous for how today would go because he really hated that burning feeling in his core. Hopefully, taking the IV morphine ahead of time would help prevent any of those issues today.

Snape placed the books and parchment back into his office as the wizarding doorbell deposited a different piece of parchment directly in front of the professor. Harry tried to get a good look at the parchment, but as always Snape incinerated it before he got the chance.

"I have to go," he told the healer, again giving Harry the feeling of a father talking to his toddler's babysitter, "if you need anything, I'll have the sphere with me, however I'd prefer no interruptions for the next several hours. Surely there's nothing that can come up you won't be able to handle on your own."

That sounds ominous. Where is he going? He wouldn't really wear teaching robes to the funeral, would he?

Again, Harry wasn't given the chance to ask as the professor simply stormed out the door, with the familiar billowing of his robes behind him, leaving Harry wondering why he didn't floo to wherever he was going.

Harry spent the next couple of hours in what he referred to as his chemotherapy routine - consisting of any combination of reading, vomiting, playing chess with Healer Smithe, trying to sleep, and trying to eat. This time though after attempting all of that at least once, he decided to pick up one of his muggle pencils and tried sketching in the notebook Snape had gotten him for his birthday. It was something he enjoyed doing in his muggle primary school - and was pretty good at for an eight year old - and sometimes during the summers at the Dursley's to pass the time locked in his bedroom. With the Weasley's fresh on his mind he started with Ginny, picturing her in his head, with her long red hair and pale, but quite beautiful, freckled complexion. Before he knew it, he was completely focused on his work drawing Ginny flying on the Quidditch pitch only needing to stop a couple of times to sick up in the loo - Healer Smithe following him each time - but he could have sworn it was less than normal; at least it seemed so. Overall, it ended up being a good distraction from the nausea and throbbing pain throughout his body and he was happy with how it was coming along.

Before he knew it, the chemo was completed and he was getting the IV of morphine to hopefully combat the awful stomach pains from last Saturday. At least for the next two Saturdays he wouldn't need to do the 5 hour chemos since the next two were his slow weeks; only the IT plus one hour of the same medication he got during his induction phase. It seemed ironic to be happy about doing the same routine he had done back at Privet Drive when back then it felt horrible. Now that he had something worse to compare it to, it was the highlight of this phase. With any hope, he might have some more energy in the upcoming two weeks, right before classes started.

The morphine evidentially helped Harry fall asleep because the next thing he knew, he found himself waking up to the sound of pages flipping next to him. He pulled the blanket that had been placed on top of him tightly around his chest relishing in the warmth surrounding his thin body. The benefit of the always chilly dungeon was getting to wrap up in a warm blanket, a feeling he secretly loved.

Opening his eyes to a dark blurry room, Harry reached out for his glasses taking note that whoever was reading beside him must have removed them while he was sleeping. Once they were firmly in place on his head, he looked around the dark room. The sun had clearly set and only the lanterns in the far corners of the room were lit giving a soft orange glow. The fire was warm in front of him casting shadows over the reader to his right. Now that his mind was waking up, he knew it wasn't Snape because this person was not in Snape's chair. He felt his heart catch in his throat when he realized who was sitting with him, a ball of light over her head to provide ample reading light without waking Harry.

"Morning Harry," her soft voice whispered, echoing across the stone walls.

"Hermione, what are you doing here?" he asked sleepily and rubbed his eyes from under his glasses; smearing them in the process, but he didn't care. "You should be at the Burrow with... Everyone."

Hermione placed the book on the table in front of them. She was still dressed in her conservative black knee length dress from the funeral with her bushy hair pushed as neatly as possible behind her ears. Harry felt embarrassingly out of place in his pyjamas next to her.

"Mrs. Weasley asked me to come stay with you for a bit," she explained leaning over closer to him, "Professor Snape floo'ed over here with me, but then he went back with your healer. Apparently his wards won't let just anyone floo in alone... which is brilliant really."

The Gryffindor witch was much more cautiously optimistic of Harry's newfound relationship with the professor, even though she claimed to be perfectly accepting of it. Having spent an abnormal amount of their school time - both inside and outside of the classroom - hating Professor Snape, she was naturally adverse to the idea of Harry living with the man now, but at the same time she was open-minded enough to see that something this summer had changed between them. She was also smart enough to know she wouldn't find out what that was if she ostracized Harry from the start.

"He was at the funeral?" Harry asked quietly to his only friend right now.

No matter how hard he tried, the wizard couldn't hide the disappointment from his voice. Harry obviously knew he wouldn't be allowed to go to the funeral, but the idea that Snape omitted the fact he was attending hurt him inside. Snape was never one to sugar coat anything - something that Harry had always appreciated - however by not telling Harry he was going, the professor did exactly that. Right now he depended on Snape's honesty when everyone else around him simply told him the things they thought he wanted to hear. Now he wasn't sure if he'd be able to trust what the former spy was telling him as the truth.

"No," Hermione exclaimed quickly. Then, picking up on Harry's torn emotions regarding Snape at the funeral, she awkwardly continued, "I mean, I guess so... I didn't realize he was there at first... I think he was trying to... stay hidden in the back with Malfoy."

"Malfoy was there?!" Harry sat up straighter on the sofa ready to storm off, but unsure where he would go, "What the hell was Malfoy doing there?!"

He couldn't help letting his anger fill him up inside. Unfortunately, that was a bad thing to do because he found himself vomiting over the edge of the sofa into the pail. Taking a deep breath, once the pail cleaned itself out, he tried to calm himself down about the two Slytherins being at the funeral. What could that possibly mean? It definitely couldn't be anything good, but his brain was way too fuzzy to sort through that now. Maybe it had something to do with Voldemort? Was everyone at the funeral in danger?

"Well, he was- " Hermione tried to answer, but at the last second, Harry didn't want to put her in the middle of something she had no idea about so he interrupted her.

"How was it... The funeral? How was everyone?" He asked instead. It was a silly question really - even though he hadn't been to many funerals he knew they were sad.

"It was sad," Hermione predictably said, averting her eyes to the fireplace watching the flames flicker across the top. "They had the service at the cemetery and then everyone went back to the Burrow. Mrs. Weasley's heart is broken, which is expected. No one expects to bury their child."

Something about the way she said the last sentence hit him hard. She's right, no one should bury their child... Like Snape did in his old reality. Was that why he was so upset today? Did the funeral remind him of Harry's funeral from his old world? Harry hadn't realized he had gotten so used to the idea that this Snape was not only from somewhere else, but from a place where Harry was his son.

And now another set of parents were going through that horrible pain. This was too much for him. What good could honestly come from all of this? Why do all of these people continue to die while he's literally sitting here filling his body with a poison to try to stay alive? He had no idea how he was supposed to vanquish the Dark Lord as the prophecy said he will, so what if everyone was protecting him and dying for nothing? What if they didn't need to be?

"Ron misses you," Hermione said so quietly that if it weren't for the lack of any other sounds in the room, he never would have heard her, but it was successful in drawing Harry away from his invasive thoughts and back into the conversation. She placed her hand on Harry's arm causing him to flinch at her touch, "not like he would say so, but I know he does. He regrets what he said and did... it's been hard for him you know."

"Hard!?... For him?!" Harry asked suddenly feeling threatened and furious, "Ron doesn't have a clue of what he's talking about if he's going to try to convince me this is only hard on him. I would give anything to trade places with him," Harry sharply pulled his arm away from Hermione then mumbled, "actually, no, I wouldn't... because I wouldn't wish my life on anyone, especially one of my best friends. This is awful and if he can't see that..."

Try as he might, he couldn't ignore the tears that he saw crawling down Hermione's cheeks when he looked up at her. Call it his Gryffindor chivalry, but he hated to see her cry; and it was even worse that he made her cry. She wiped them away, but more kept falling demonstrating how much she hated when her two best friends fought.

"It's not that Harry and you know it," her eyes pleaded with him to understand, "we all know how he gets with Professor Snape... You of all people should know how he feels about Professor Snape, for all the time you've collectively hated him... And then to see you so comfortable here - enough to call him by his given name - it was just too much for him," she sniffled and tried unsuccessfully to regain her composure. "If you'll notice Harry, you still call his parents by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley."

Harry paused. No, that wasn't true... Except now that he thought hard about it, it absolutely was and he hadn't even realized that until now. How many times had Mrs. Weasley asked him to call her Molly? After everything she'd done for him; treated him no different - maybe even better than - one of her own sons? And yet for some reason, it felt wrong to call her by her given name; like he would be an imposter in the Weasley family.

It definitely gave him something to consider though. Did he somehow insult Ron's family by using Snape's given name? If so, that wasn't his intentions at all and still didn't give Ron the right to say what he had. But why did it feel acceptable to call Snape by his name instead of the Weasley's? Maybe because Snape had no other family... just like Harry. In all his time living with the professor, he couldn't deny how much alike they were.

"Hermione," Harry asked when thinking about family, it brought up a question he'd been trying to sort through in his mind this last week, "can your parents visit you at Hogwarts? Like, if there was an emergency or something?"

Hermione seemed confused by the sudden change of subject but thought hard about the question, "That's interesting because muggles would see-"

"I remember all about the ruins," he interrupted her trying to prevent the lecture he was sure he was about to receive, "but there has to be exceptions for students. I mean, if something happened and your parents needed to come, how would they get here?"

"I don't know Harry; I'll do some research on it. Why do you ask though?" She sounded happy about the project and Harry couldn't help but stifle a laugh at her excitement over doing research in her summer.

"Oh, erm," Harry rubbed the back of his neck embarrassed and feeling a little vulnerable, "I was hoping to see Dudley soon, but I doubt I'll be allowed to leave here. So I thought maybe there was a way he could visit me."

"Let me see what I can find, but Harry, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore or Professor Snape would know the answer. You could always ask one of them."

Suddenly the floo roared to life and Healer Smithe walked out followed shortly by Snape, still dressed in his teaching robes that he apparently did wear to the funeral.

"Good night Miss. Granger," Snape said dismissing her without any preamble and barely making eye contact with either student.

"Oh, um..." Hermione looked between Snape and Harry and back. "I was hoping to stay a little longer sir. If that's alright with you, I mean."

Snape narrowed his eyes, his jaw visibly clenched as he considered what she had asked. "As you wish, but Molly will be expecting you no later than midnight."

Snape waved his wand several times and a set of tea came levitating into the sitting room as he was walking out. The healer finished setting Harry up with another round of morphine while Hermione poured the tea, and then left as quickly as Snape did.

"What do you think is going on?" Hermione asked, having picked up on the cold mood of the professor. She placed her tea cup on the table in front of her.

Not hearing Hermione, Harry peered into his own cup and carefully placed it down next to hers. There was no way that was going to sit well in his roiling stomach now. Then as if she was reading his mind, a glass of ginger ale came levitating over Harry's head from the kitchen.

"Thanks 'Moine," he said, grabbing the glass and taking a tentative sip. The cold liquid felt refreshing on his dry throat and the ginger helped to settle the cramping of his stomach.

Hermione bit her lip in confusion, "Harry, I didn't summon that."

The wizard lowered his eyebrows in confusion feeling his face flush yet again, "Oh, Sev - erm... Professor Snape must have sent it in here for me."

"You call him whatever you'd like around me," she explained with a soft, warm smile, "I'm happy you feel comfortable around at least one adult to let them take care of you... especially now. You deserve this Harry, no matter what the reason is."

"I can't really explain it," Harry said sheepishly knowing that Snape would not only kill him for telling her, but she wouldn't believe him anyways.

"You don't need to... Oh Harry! I can't believe I forgot to tell you," she jumped up from her seat - causing him to startle slightly - and pulled out a stack of parchment, "I'm going to be one of your student tutors this year! Professor McGonagall sent me an owl the other day asking if I wouldn't mind, which of course I don't. I was practically yours and Ron's tutor anyways."

"That's great 'Mione. I know it's a lot of work, so thank you for doing it." Again he felt his ears turn red in embarrassment. It didn't matter if this arrangement was normal for his circumstances, it still seemed like he was getting a special exemption.

"It's nothing, really," she waved him off, "I'm covering your Charms and Transfiguration classes. Professor McGonagall said we'll have a meeting the first day of classes with the professors to go over the schedule and our expectations."

Harry smiled at his friend. She was in her element and for once Harry let her ramble about classes and lessons and homework as he wondered who else would be helping him this year. He never could have one normal year could he? And even though Voldemort had already made an attempt to get to him, Harry thought there was no way he was lucky enough that the dark wizard was done for the year. Between Hermione's rambling about schoolwork, his thoughts on Voldemort, and the new morphine, he had no hope of staying awake when his eyes started to get heavy with sleep.

~~~~SS~~~~

It wasn't fair to Harry and he knew it, but in order to get through the day with any sense of decorum, Severus needed to distance himself as much as possible from his young charge. If Harry knew he was going to the funeral beforehand, he would have been plagued with questions from the teenager that he could not answer.

Draco had come to him the day before declaring that he wanted to attend the funeral for Charlie Weasley, but knew he wouldn't be welcomed there. Severus understood, unfortunately from experience, that you never forgot the first person you tortured or killed as a Death Eater, and knowing the family - even if you seemingly hated them - only made it harder. Draco would never forget Charlie Weasley for as long as he lived. Naturally, Severus decided to use this as an opportunity to continue some of Draco's training on how to blend in and go unseen at a highly public event, especially because all of the Aurors patrolling would already be leaving them alone should they be seen.

The two Slytherins found themselves stealthily hiding at the back of the funeral ceremony covered by a well casted disillusionment charm courtesy of the newest Death Eater, neither saying a word to the other. It was a bright and sunny day, which was ideal for trying to cover up, but completely wrong for the atmosphere of the guests.

As the funeral proceeded Severus could tell Draco's part in it was weighing heavily on his young Slytherin's mind, but he resisted the urge to comment on it. Draco did what he had to do and regardless of his role that night, Charlie Weasley was considered dead the moment he was taken from the Burrow by Death Eaters. However, Severus knew telling the blonde those words would fall on deaf ears and he prayed to Merlin that, for Draco's sake, his first actual kill would be nameless and faceless.

It wasn't until everyone had supposedly left for the reception at the Burrow that either Slytherin felt comfortable enough to approach the gravesite. Surrounding the site were moving pictures of the family - Charlie when he was born and then as a little boy growing up already showing an affinity for magical creatures, Christmases as the family grew from four to seven to nine members large, Charlie's graduation from Hogwarts, and of course a wide range of pictures during his time in Romania with his dragons. All of this to show the life of a man who not only died far too soon, but a man that probably deserved to live more than Severus himself did.

"I'm glad you could make it," the defense professor was startled, unaware Molly Weasley had managed to sneak up on them - a testament to his current feelings.

"It was a lovely ceremony," was the first thing Severus thought to say knowing it was a filler for all the things he couldn't say; something everyone had told him after Harry's funeral and he now understood why.

"I'm sorry for your loss Mrs. Weasley," Draco's sincerity was not lost on the professor and he hoped the grieving mother would hear it too. "I wish-"

"We know you were there Draco," Molly's statement was not accusatory, but instead had sorrow laced within it. "I want you to know that I don't agree one bit with what Albus is asking of you..."

She trailed off, her voice trembling near the end, and Severus knew as a parent she was thinking what would happen if one of her other children were in Draco's position. Severus had gone down that winding path with Harry and it never ended well.

"I just want to help where I can Mrs. Weasley," Draco's voice wavered as he almost pleaded for her forgiveness. "If I had to take-"

"Mum? Everyone's heading..." They were interrupted again by Ron running over to find Molly, but stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of both Slytherins.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?!" the youngest Weasley son spat.

"Paying my respect to your mother," Draco sounded confident without being arrogant, something that was new for the boy.

"Yeah right," it was clear Ron was looking to pick a fight, a side effect of his intense grief that Severus could relate to as he remembered the disastrous mess he left in his quarters after returning from Harry's funeral. "You're probably gloating you ferret. For all we know, you're already one of them-"

"Ronald Bilius Weasley," Molly screeched, swatting at her son, "you will not do this today. Do you understand?!"

"Yes Mum," Ron's face immediately flushed in a combination of embarrassment and anger. He continued to speak to his mother, but not taking his eyes off Draco, "Dad said everyone is heading back and asked me to stay with you."

Severus shifted his weight awkwardly on his feet feeling like he was intruding on a personal family moment. Draco appeared just as uncomfortable, but likely because he would never have experienced such a tender moment within a family; his own always stoic and formal.

"I'll be right along," she brushed some invisible dust from the shoulder of Ron's dress robes, "don't you worry about me."

Ron glared over at the two men he thought - probably correctly - did not deserve to be at his brother's funeral and nodded before hanging his head and walking away.

"You should both stop by the Burrow," Molly too kindly invited them, "it's not much, but we would love to have you."

"Thank you," Severus said after it became obvious that the blonde was not wanting or able to speak, "we'll try to stop in."

By the time he made it to the Burrow - Draco having decided it was best he did not attend - Severus was already exhausted. He had not anticipated the funeral to be so draining on him. Charlie had been a student before Severus's fifth year teaching, but he hadn't had much other interactions with the young man. Since Charlie had not been an active part of the Order in Britain until recently, he didn't have much other reason to know him outside of Hogwarts.

And yet, maybe it was because his own son's funeral was so fresh in his mind or because he knew how hard Harry was taking this death back at his quarters. Either way, once it was over, he was emotionally drained when he walked back out of the floo and knew that by demanding Miss. Granger

leave it would almost guarantee her to stay until Harry had fallen asleep. Was it a Slytherin tactic? Yes. Was it cowardly? Absolutely. But he couldn't answer all the questions he knew Harry would ask.

It was almost midnight when he walked back into the sitting room with Alton, a glass of freshly poured firewhiskey in their hands. Harry was asleep on his back on the sofa, a piece of furniture that now had his body's imprint permanently impressed upon it and was closer to the piece he'd left in his old reality. Alton carefully, so as not to wake him up, disconnected the IV of morphine from his port and Severus pulled the blanket up to cover his now exposed chest.

"Poppy will be by tomorrow and Monday for the next two four hour doses and I'll be back Tuesday for the last four hour until September 7th," the healer was placing the medical supplies back in his bag and pulling out the refills of all of Harry's tablet medications. Hermione watched wide eyed as the men discussed her friend's care in front of her. "After Tuesday, he'll do 2 weeks of only IT and a one hour on Saturdays with the week off in between. The one hour is Vincristine which is what he had in induction, so hopefully it'll be easier on him before we start the next round. He had a heavy dose of Morphine tonight, so he shouldn't have too much in the way of the stomach pain again. As always, call me if anything urgent happens."

"Thank you Alton," Severus said, sounding exhausted, shaking the healer's hand. "Have a good night."

"Try to get some sleep Severus," he said before waving goodbye to Hermione and floo-ing back to his home.

"I should go sir," Hermione said, collecting her things from the table and the armchair she was sitting in.

Severus recognized that she felt uncomfortable in his presence; likely due to being with a professor in his quarters, during the summer.

"Miss. Granger," he said, keeping a very neutral tone, "you should not get into the habit of using magic in the summer holiday. I recognize you'll be 17 in only a month and the laws do not extend to Hogwarts, however school is not in session now."

Hermione looked flustered at being accused of something so bluntly, "I'm sorry sir, but I don't know what you're talking about."

Severus lifted one eyebrow contemplating what she'd said, "So it was not you who summoned the glass of ginger ale for Harry?"

Hermione shook her head, "No sir, we thought that was you."

Both professor and student looked over at the sleeping wizard on the sofa. Had Harry accidentally done magic without knowing it? If so, how many other times had this occurred and how much faster would these bouts of accidental magic drain his magical core? Without even thinking, Severus ran his hand over Harry's forehead, almost as if he were moving the fringe if he still had his hair.

"You care about him," Hermione finally said nervously. "If I may... He needs you sir. Harry hasn't had many adults he could really trust and depend on... hasn't had any actually. Sirius was close, but sometimes I think he wanted Harry to be James so much... and I think Harry was too different."

"You have no idea," Severus said, too quiet for the young witch to hear; referring to both how different Harry was from James and how much Severus cared about Harry. "You should go Miss. Granger."

"One more thing sir."

She's really testing her luck tonight.

"Yes."

"Harry mentioned wanting to visit with his cousin," she said quickly, giving away how nervous she was. Severus respected the amount of courage it had to take for her to make such a request to the most hated professor at Hogwarts when he was obviously having a rough day. "And that's another relationship that's been quite awful for him, but somehow has turned around..."

She paused, likely hoping the professor would finish her thought for her.

"Continue," he prompted.

"I don't know if it's possible for muggles to come into the castle," she was going into one of her know-it-all lecture-modes, "I mean, it must somehow be possible if there were any emergency during the school year-"

He finally had to put an end to his misery, "Yes Miss Granger, the Headmaster can grant the necessary provisions for a muggle to visit Hogwarts through the castle wards. I will discuss the matter with him. Now please go."

"Thank you sir," she called as he handed her the floo powder from the mantle and she left.

Turning back to Harry, Severus thought about what Hermione had said. Obviously he knew that Harry hadn't had any adults he could depend on, but he hadn't thought about what that meant in this reality. Harry had gone through so much alone here, it was no wonder he placed such importance on his friends. Severus absolutely hated the field of divinations - for obvious reasons - but he wished at that moment he could know if Harry and Ron would reconcile because Harry needed his friends as much as he needed a stable adult in his life. Making the Decision he didn't want to risk waking Harry up by moving him to his bedroom, Severus sat down in his armchair and pulled a blanket over himself to sleep out in the sitting room just in case Harry needed him tonight.

~~~~SS~~~~

Unfortunately, Severus did not get the chance to discuss the potential for Dudley's visit with Albus. He had every intention to, as he did agree with Hermione that the relationship Harry was forging with his cousin was important especially now given the row with Ron, but something always seemed to come up for either Severus or Albus.

With classes starting in a fortnight; teaching a new subject, plus his extra research on Harry's cancer alongside the accidental magic that Harry was unknowingly doing with exceptional control, and he was now onto his fifth attempt at a salve to stop the burning pain from his dark mark, the professor barely had time to think. It ended up being a good thing that Minerva had taken control of overseeing Harry's academic schedule as he would have had no capacity to make all the finalizations with the Board of Governors, professors at Hogwarts, and securing the adequate student tutors. In fact, Minerva ended up working all the way up until the day before term started finalizing his timetable, something neither Severus nor Harry had gotten a chance to see yet.

Albus called an Order meeting on the evening of the 31st of August to discuss the incoming students and how to ensure their safety aboard the Hogwarts Express. With Harry having been in the castle for the duration of the summer and technically not returning to classes, the headmaster was unsure if the Dark Lord would make an attempt to attack the train. As a way to help prevent anything from happening, Draco had been given the approval to provide Harry's location at Hogwarts through the end of the summer, but as usual Albus wanted to be extra cautious. This meant a full scale coordination within the Order to make sure the students arrived safely.

Unfortunately, Harry had his last chemotherapy treatment for his first month of consolidation on that day - which as with the previous week was an IT and one hour IV - and Severus was having a difficult time finding someone to stay with him while the professor was at the meeting. For the last Order meeting Minerva had stayed behind, however since this one was required by all members - in addition to Minerva - Molly, Arthur, and even Lupin, who was coming in from his field work, would all be in attendance and therefore unable to stay with the Gryffindor. He was going to ask Alton, as he had stayed with Harry during the funeral for Charlie Weasley, when the healer came by to disconnect Harry's chemotherapy, but Poppy had been sent instead. Frustratingly, Severus was not able to get in touch with Alton since that morning's IT procedure; something he planned to discuss with his friend about what to do in case there ever was an emergency with Harry and the healer was not available. All of that added up to Severus having no choice other than to grudgingly leave Harry alone this time and he was not happy about it at all.

"I'll be fine Severus," Harry said while pushing his small lunch around his plate. He had recently finished the chemotherapy and was hoping to eat before the nausea hit him too hard. Even the two easier chemotherapy weeks had been difficult for the Gryffindor. "At this point, I know what to expect and unless the burning comes back, I can pretty much get whatever it is I might need in the couple of hours you'll be gone. Plus, I can always use the sphere if it gets to be too much."

"Now that I think about it, I'm not sure if the sphere will work at headquarters with the Fidelius in place," Severus thought out loud; if he could firecall to headquarters, theoretically the sphere should work. However, even though he didn't foresee himself at Grimmauld Place often, it was definitely something they should consider testing for future issues. As if he needed anything to make him more anxious about leaving Harry alone tonight, now Harry may not even have a way to contact him.

"Either way, I'll be fine for a couple of hours," Harry reiterated standing up, having eaten less than half his yoghurt with almonds and side of sliced avocado; all foods that were recommendations from Alton to eat during chemotherapy to help Harry receive the calories and nutrients his body so desperately needed right now.

Whenever the Gryffindor did manage to go back to classes, Severus knew it would be a shock to the other students who last saw Harry as the small, yet strong and defiant Gryffindor. He had easily lost at least a stone - possibly even a stone and a half by now - in weight since the end of last term, and with his bald head and drawn face, he knew Harry was very self-conscious about his current appearance.

"Perhaps Miss. Granger could come to stay for at least a little while," neither Hermione nor any of the Weasley's had been to visit Harry since Charlie's funeral even though Severus had suggested they visit on multiple occasions. He had a suspicion that Harry was unintentionally pushing them away for reasons he had not yet figured out.

"Severus," Harry warned standing at the doorway, his green eyes pleading for the conversation to end as he started to visibly pale, "it's the day before school starts; she's packing. Trust me, I've been at the Burrow the day before school... it's a madhouse. I'll be just fine."

The professor watched as Harry left the kitchen, without another word, heading back to his bedroom. He couldn't help but think about how far they had come since he first showed up at Privet Drive during Harry's nosebleed incident; how comfortable they had become with each other and with his cancer treatments; the professor silently hoped school would not bring any additional turmoil into their life. Harry would not be able to withstand much more on top of what he was already dealing with.

As usual Draco arrived a half hour before Severus had to leave for the order meeting to go through his update to share. The second he opened the door, Severus knew it would be bad news. He had felt his dark mark burn yesterday - and had the first semi-successful salve work on it - but since Draco had not shown up afterwards, he assumed the blonde had not been called to that particular summons. However, Draco's glazed over eyes told him a different story. Without saying a word, he led Draco into his office and warded the door silent as he knew Harry had the tendency to try and eavesdrop.

"What happened last night?" Severus asked sitting down, as casually as possible, in the chair across from Draco who was uncharacteristically wringing his hands in his lap.

"He moved into the manor last weekend," Draco said without any further explanation needed. At least now they knew the location of Voldemort, something they had lost when Severus's cover was compromised.

This was not good news though. If the Dark Lord moved his headquarters into Malfoy Manor it could only be to gain more control over Draco after the blonde Slytherin returned to school. Severus questioned to himself what the melogmanic could have planned for him if that much control was needed over the teen. No matter which way he tried to look at it, this could not end well for anyone involved. Unfortunately, it also wasn't the only reason Draco looked so distraught that night.

"That's why I couldn't get here after the summons last night," Draco said with his head hung low staring at his hands that were still fiddling with nothing. Severus knew that look; Draco had been on his first raid.

"Were there any deaths?" The professor asked keeping his voice as even and judgement-free as possible.

Draco nodded his head, not making eye contact.

"Were any of them yours?" He didn't want to know, but if Draco had his first killing it would do him best in the long run for him to talk about it. Severus was determined to do whatever he could to make sure Draco came through all of this in one piece, even if that meant bringing up the former spy's own demons.

"No," he could see the small relief in Draco's grey eyes as they finally met Severus's black ones. When he spoke next, the teenager was having a difficult time putting his sentences together, "After everyone showed up at the manner... it was just like you said it would be; everyone bowing and kissing his robes like servants... We went to a muggle neighborhood and my job was to... Steal? Kidnap? Take hostage?... Whatever you want to call it... A woman and her daughter... she had to be maybe six or seven?"

The former Death Eater closed his eyes to try and keep back his own horrible memories while contemplating what he'd heard, "And he did not have you or anyone else kill them?"

Again, Draco stayed silent and only shook his head.

Why would the Dark Lord kidnap muggles and not kill them?

"They're being held in the cellar at the manor," Draco answered the question before Severus could even ask it with a disgusted look on his face as if he never wanted to step foot back into his home. It was one thing to know what the Dark Lord was doing in theory - even to agree with it since Draco's stance on muggles hadn't changed much at all - but it was completely different for it to be done in your own home, practically in front of you. Severus hoped they had plenty of wards in place so no one could hear what was going on down in the cellars.

He gave his full attention back to Draco as his student went through what happened from the moment he was summoned until he landed back at the manor with the Dark Lord, Bellatrix, and their two hostages - the only two muggles to have lived that night - alongside him. He tried hard to use his Occlumency, but in the end it still brought back memories for the professor that he wished would stay hidden forever.

Severus stood in the back of the old dining room at Grimmauld Place waiting for the meeting to start. With everyone in attendance, the room was overfilled with witches and wizards chatting idly giving Severus the start of a headache. Noticeably different tonight was Molly Weasley. She tutted and fussed around the room as normal - feeding every one regardless of if they wanted to eat - but her eyes weren't nearly as bright as usual and her voice cracked at least once within each sentence giving away her continued grief. Severus could understand, but he dared not say so.

"Arthur," the former spy called out quietly, but firmly to the Weasley patriarch when the man walked nearby Severus's corner.

"Good evening Severus," Arthur greeted equally quiet; taking the hint from the professor for some needed secrecy. "How's Harry feeling?"

Letting out a sigh, because that was always the first question everyone asked him lately, he answered "He's getting restless, but staying strong. And Ginny?"

"Still the same unfortunately," Arthur replied frowning, "Bill made an attempt at the curse last weekend, but it's been slow. Were you able to find out anything about Bellatrix's wand?"

Severus nodded. Draco had relayed the information they needed after walking Severus through the raid from last night. Luckily, Bellatrix being Draco's aunt made the inquiry less obvious for the new spy and helped to not draw unwanted attention to the purpose of his quest. Unwilling to give his report twice, Severus distracted Arthur from any further questions when he pulled out two phials from his robe - the reason he called Arthur over in the first place - and held them out to the man in front of him.

Lifting the larger phial he said, "A Calming Draught-" he paused to look over at Molly indicating that these were for her, then lifting the smaller one he continued, "- and Dreamless Sleep. They should help her get some decent rest with everything going on."

After recounting Draco's summons and internally reliving his own, Severus tried to ignore the gratitude he saw in Arthur's eyes. That type of gratitude was best reserved for men far better then he was.

"Thank you Severus," Arthur said, taking the phials and carefully pocketing them in his robes. "You're a good man; both for this and what you're doing for Harry. We would have been more than happy to have him with us, but as much as I hate to admit this, it's best he's at Hogwarts. Who knows what would have happened had he been at the Burrow the night of the attack. Molly says he's in great hands, so thank you."

The professor furrowed his brow, but didn't say anything back to Arthur. What could he honestly say? The more he thought about it from an outsider's perspective the more he realized how odd it looked that Severus Snape was now responsible for the care of Harry Potter. He tabled that observation when Albus got everyone's attention to start the meeting.

With the whole Order's attention on him, Albus jumped right into the latest Death Eater activity. Unfortunately, most of the raids had occurred in muggle neighborhoods with a high number of casualties, something Severus had already known even if he hadn't gotten the report from Draco earlier that night. That didn't mean the wizarding world was safe though, as both Ollivander and Florean Fortescue had been missing for the last month and had gotten a lot of publicity recently with the influx of visitors to Diagon Alley for their school supplies. The former spy cursed under his breath; he hated hearing about the people he could not save. It not only reminded him that he was no longer in a position to help those people, but it added to his anxiousness to get out there and do something productive against his former master. This was simple, the longer it took to kill the dark wizard the more death there was going to be, and if he could somehow be killed before Harry got involved, all the better.

"Severus will now update us on the report from our newest informant," his mind was brought back to the present as Albus ceremoniously transitioned to him.

"Draco had discovered that the core of Bellatrix's wand is a Dragon Heart-String, however there were no further details provided on the spell she used on Miss. Weasley," he started with the best news first to which Bill Weasley's face lit up as he nodded his confirmation; that was definitely a good sign. With any luck Ginny would be back to normal very soon.

"The Dark Lord has moved into Malfoy Manor, likely to keep a closer than normal watch on Narcissa and control over Draco while he's at school," he continued, almost sounding bored as was his usual expression. "I can only assume he's either expecting Draco to defect at some point and wants assurance against such an event or he has plans for Draco that he expects resistance to. Neither option ends well for Draco nor the Order."

He went through in detail the raid from the previous night and the mysterious muggle woman and child that were taken and now being held captive at Malfoy Manor. There was a major debate on if a rescue attempt should be planned. The arguments ranged from: how could an organization such as themselves not help when they know something like this has occurred, to it could be an elaborately planned trap for the Order, and even the possibility of it being a test of Draco's loyalties, in which case going in for a rescue could bring harm to the teenager.

After a long deliberation amongst the members, no one wanted to vote on making the hard call and it fell to Albus to decide as the leader of the Order. In the end, he came to the conclusion that it was far too dangerous to attempt to rescue the two muggles at this time. Everyone in the room fell silent with the realization they had possibly just left two innocent people to die; assuming they weren't already dead. This was exactly why - no matter how much Draco, Harry, or any of the other underaged students complained about it - children could not be part of the Order; sometimes you had to make a losing choice so you had a chance to win in the end.

"Are you certain that the flow of information is in our favor?" Moody gruffly challenged Severus once he completed updating the group on Draco's reports. "Seems to me we aren't getting nearly as much information as we used to."

"I am positive," Severus growled trying to hold back his anger. "As I've previously said on multiple occasions, as a new Death Eater, Mr. Malfoy is not privy to the type of information I had been able to receive.

"However, I'd like to point out that because of Mr. Malfoy, we now know the final piece of information to save young Miss. Weasley, we now know the location of the Dark Lord's headquarters, and while we don't know the reason behind it yet, we do know he's capturing muggles instead of simply killing them on the spot. What of that is not up to your standards?"

"Gentlemen," Albus said in a commanding tone drawing the attention away from the two wizards and back towards himself. "Let us move on shall we. Even though Voldemort is aware of Harry living at Hogwarts this summer, the train is a logical time for his next attack. We need to have full coverage... "

Severus wasn't paying attention to anything else Albus said during the meeting. All he could think about was that there had to be some significance to the muggles that were kidnapped and how could he find out if there were any others that had been taken.

When Severus walked out of the floo back into his quarters, Harry was laying on the sofa reading through his new defense textbook. The professor would have preferred Harry to be asleep already, only because then he would feel better about going off to sleep himself, but this was preferred to finding the Gryffindor laying in the lavatory. After removing his outer robes, Severus sat down in his armchair completely exhausted.

"How did it go tonight?" The young wizard asked sitting up on the couch. Severus tried to ignore the grimace of pain that flashed across Harry's face; hopefully the next phase of his treatment would be easier on his body.

"Nothing much to tell," he said nonchalantly as he did not want to add anymore pressure onto Harry's shoulders than he already felt. "Everyone wishes their best for you. Lupin asked the next time he's back from his mission if he could stop by."

"Oh," Harry said looking down at his book as if it were the most interesting thing around.

"Harry," Severus called leaning forward to rest his elbows on his legs. This wasn't the conversation he wanted to have now given his current state, but the opportunity fell into his lap and he wasn't going to waste it, "I know you have to stay here because of your current immune system, but eventually you will be able to see people again. In fact, you will eventually have to see people again because I'm not intending to host your entire sixth year education in our quarters."

The edges of Harry's lips bent upwards as he tried to hold back a smile.

"Did you just make a joke sir?" The Gryffindor asked sarcastically, turning to face his professor.

"They do come to me once in a great while," he casually replied before a thoughtful look crossed over his face, "but seriously Harry, I get the feeling you're trying to push people away from you."

"Well... I'm not pushing you away," Harry mumbled defensively, confirming Severus's suspicions that he was indeed trying to distance himself from others.

"Of course not," the professor replied insightfully, "everything you feel embarrassed about I've experienced along with you. I was there for your tests and diagnosis, your first treatments, the vomiting, I even shaved your head..."

That triggered something within Harry and he started to shake his head violently as if he didn't want to hear whatever it was Severus was going to say.

"I'm fine," Harry said too quickly for either of them to believe it.

Instead of jumping straight into an argument, Severus sat back and simply observed the teenager. Harry's breathing was shallowing and he was wringing his hands, much the same as Draco was earlier that evening, leading the professor to the belief that both of these boys would probably benefit from some kind of friendship if they could ever learn to trust one another.

His silence was rewarded when Harry continued, stumbling for the right words, "I just... I don't know... I feel... Like I'm a mess right now... And I don't want anyone seeing me like this."

Severus could see the relief flood into Harry's body by simply saying the words he was sure were troubling his young mind.

"And that's ok Harry," he said getting up and kneeling in front of Harry on the sofa, "it's ok that you have those feelings and it's ok to tell people you have them. Take it one day at a time and one person at a time. Talk about what you're going through because even though it will be hard to start, I think you will find yourself feeling better in the long run. No one expects you to be perfect through all of this, but they will follow your lead on it; if you continue to push them away, they'll stop reaching out to you thinking that's what you need."

Harry simply nodded his understanding, but made eye contact which gave the professor some confidence that he had understood the message. Coming into the start of term, it was more important than ever that they could discuss things like this freely. With Harry spending at least the first 6 weeks quarantined, practically alone, he was bound to start feeling isolated from the rest of the students, professors, and specifically Severus.

"I see your textbooks have arrived," he casually changed the subject picking up Harry's defense book that had fallen onto the floor. Earlier this week, he had owl ordered Harry's supplies for classes and was a little concerned when they had not yet arrived as of this morning.

"Yeah, they came through the floo while you were gone," Harry peered over to the fireplace as if he were expecting more mail to come through. "But they forgot my potions book. I don't know if Flourish and Blotts can get one here for classes this week or if..."

Severus stood up and walked to the bookcase near his office hearing the Gryffindor trail off as he searched the shelves for the book he remembered grabbing as he was cleaning out the Potions classroom earlier this month. Once he located it, he walked back to Harry, and handed him the battered up copy of Advanced Potions Making by Libatius Borage.

"They didn't forget your potions book, I did not order you one," the professor slowly explained as Harry flipped through the book that had once belonged to Severus. "I thought you'd like to use this one instead. Since I'm not teaching potions this year, I have no reservations in giving this to you."

Severus could feel himself getting nervous about discussing something not only so personal to him, but also something that he did not do for the other Harry. As Severus still taught Potions in his old reality, he could not share this book with Harry there. Now though, after editing out the darker spells he'd created during the troubled times of his youth, he had no qualms in passing it on. Harry would have a hard enough time staying caught up with classes and he could use as much help as he could get.

"Who's the Half-Blood Prince?" Harry asked as he ran his finger across the words written at the bottom of the inside back cover Property of the Half-Blood Prince.

"It was the moniker I used," Severus explained feeling even more nervous to say it out loud, "I'm a half-blood and my mother's maiden name was Prince."

"This was your book?!" Harry asked louder than he probably expected to be. "I can't use this..."

Again Harry trailed off as he continued flipping through each of the potion lessons and reading the detailed changes and notes Severus himself had made throughout. For the second time that night, he was met with eyes so full of a gratitude the professor thought he did not deserve.

"Wouldn't this be cheating?" Harry asked, drawing Severus's attention back to the sofa. "I mean, you're a Potions Master, with the notes in here alone I could probably pass the final exam before I even meet the new professor."

Severus had to hold back a grin, "I wasn't a Portions Master when I made those notes, I was your age," Harry's eyes grew wide at that. "You don't have to use it if you're uncomfortable with it. Remember though, to pass your exams you still do have to brew the potions yourself, which could be... challenging for you."

"Hey! Half the reasons my potions exploded were because of the Slytherins!" Harry wasn't angry though; quite the opposite. "Did I have this... You know... Before?"

"You mean where I came from?"

Harry nodded and a grimace fell across his face that Severus knew meant it was almost time for another dose of his medication.

"No, you did not have this book in my old reality," the professor said, waving his wand to summon Harry's pain medicine and a glass of water. "I was still the Potions Master back there and I was not about to teach a student with my own notes."

Harry closed the book and clutched it tight, "Thank you Severus. I'll take very good care of this book."

"You are welcome," he said, pouring out two of the tablets and handing them to Harry with the glass of water. "You should go to bed. You look exhausted and I have students to prepare for tomorrow."

"G'night Severus," Harry said, standing up and pausing for a second before turning around and heading back to his room with both his defense textbook and the Advanced Potion Making book.

Smiling that Harry had accepted his old textbook, Severus rubbed his tired eyes. Somehow he knew it was going to be a long night with Harry and then he had an early morning to put the final preparations on his classroom and some adjustments to the Slytherin dormitories. During the Order meeting tonight, Severus made the last minute decision to add a couple of extra wards in the sixth year boys dormitory as added security for Draco should anything happen during the school year. He sat there in the silence of his sitting room questioning, not for the first time, how he would possibly manage everything he was currently working on, plus a full class schedule, and his Head of House duties.

~~~~AU SS~~~~

"Harry! We're going to be late!" Severus called for the third time that morning, this time though from directly outside of his teenage son's door.

"I'm almost done!" The 16-year old Gryffindor called out from inside his bedroom.

Cautiously, Severus opened the door and pinched the bridge of his nose when he saw the mess around his son's normally almost-too-tidy bedroom. They were getting ready to head back to Hogwarts from Spinner's End to start Harry's sixth year. Harry's bedroom was small, but comfortable with light blue walls that almost matched his room in their quarters at Hogwarts, but here instead of Quidditch posters, the walls were adorned with sketches, drawings, and paintings Harry had completed over the years. There was everything from his friends studying in the Gryffindor common room, to Hedwig flying over the forbidden forest, to the sun setting over the dirty smokestacks Harry could see from his bedroom window, and even one of Severus himself working over a cauldron in his potions lab. Harry had a natural talent he'd inherited from Lily's genes and Severus loved to tell Harry all about his mother's favorite hobby; the one they share. Harry had a twin bed in the far left corner made up neatly with a blue bedspread, a wardrobe on the right wall, and a small bookcase next to it filled to the brim with all sorts of books. It was the bookcase causing the issues that morning.

"I borrowed a book from Hermione and I have no idea where I put it," he called placing several more books into the pile on his left.

"You could have asked me to summon it for you," Severus said, casually pulling out his wand and calling accio Hermione Granger's book. Three books came flying to him from under a red Gryffindor jumper on the other side of the wardrobe. "Knowing the name would have been a bit more accurate, but I'm certain it's one of these?"

Harry flushed and Severus knew it was because one of the side effects of the potions he was taking caused him to forget simple things at times. While not ideal, it was an improvement over where he was at the beginning of the summer. Harry had a rough summer with the start of his potions regimen to battle the Leukemia he was diagnosed with at the end of last term. Harry had spent most of June laid up in bed as his body got used to the different potions most of which left him so nauseous he could barely keep any food down for the first month. By the time of his birthday, however, both his body had adjusted and Severus made some tweaks to the formula used and he was handling it much better. With Harry taking as many as 6 different potions per day, it was sometimes a struggle for the Potions Master to keep up with making so many fresh each week, but he was committed to doing anything to help his son recover from this muggle disease.

"This one," the teenager said, grabbing a copy of an advanced potions book that Severus made a mental note to discuss with him about at a later time. "Thank you Dad."

"You're welcome Harry," Severus said, waving his wand across the room to clean and finish packing the teenager as well as shrinking his trunk and broom for easy transportation. "Let's get to King's Cross Station before you're late."

Only a quarter of an hour later, they were on their way to the train station. Unfortunately, Severus would have no way of knowing the horror he would experience before the year was out or the fact that this would be the last time he saw his son off to school on the Hogwarts Express.

1st September 1996

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry couldn't sleep last night, which wasn't all too surprising given everything that was going on in his mind. The rest of the students would be arriving this evening to start another year of school and Harry was nervous how it would impact his relationship with Snape. Between the chemo yesterday and his anxiety over term starting, he woke up around one in the morning and ended up in the lavatory sick. After their conversation last night, Harry was determined to ride out the vomiting on his own to allow Snape a good night's sleep before he started teaching again. It shouldn't have mattered in the long run, but for some reason it felt harder on him sitting up alone in the lavatory for most of the night.

Eventually, he made it back to his bed where he stayed up looking through Snape's potions book and sketching - last week he started working on a picture of himself and Dudley - until around four in the morning, then he fell asleep still clutching his notebook. He woke that morning from the sun shining through his window sometime around ten with his glasses removed and tucked nicely under his bedspread. After a quick shower and dressing in a pair of jeans with a navy blue jumper, now that he was feeling a bit more like himself, he ate the breakfast that Snape had left sitting out on the table for him. His medicine was nicely placed in a small cup besides the plate charmed to keep his eggs and toast warm, and a note in Snape's unique script that read:

Harry -

I went to finish a couple of last minute preparations in my classroom and the Slytherin dormitories. I will stop by before the welcoming feast this evening.

Take you medicine.

- S.S.

For the first time Harry wondered what his roommates would think when his bed was not in their dorm. Would Dumbledore be making some kind of announcement tonight or would everyone just think he'd died over the summer? Maybe that Voldemort finally got to him? That was ridiculous though, the Prophet would have definitely reported if the Boy-Who-Lived had been killed by Voldemort.

Moving to the sitting room, he sat on the sofa trying not to think about how stir crazy he was feeling within the walls of the dungeons. He'd been here since before his birthday and had only left those few times to see Ginny - which he hadn't been able to do since the row with Ron - and now he was almost ready to give up his Firebolt just to be able to leave.

Severus would kill me if I left his quarters, especially without telling him, but once the students get here it will be impossible to do it.

It was a bad idea, even Harry recognized that, but once it was in his mind it was like a plague he could not push out. Getting up from the sofa he started pacing between the sitting room and the door to the outside hallway; going as far as putting his hand on the door knob that would take him to freedom. Snape had specifically told him he was keyed into the wards, so he could easily get back in... Assuming he knew which empty stone wall held the door to begin with.

Suddenly the floo roared to life, saving him from making another stupid, rash decision in his life and Mrs. Weasley walked out. Harry had not seen the woman who was like his surrogate mother since before Charlie's death and the sight of her was enough to knock the wind right out of his chest. She looked tired, similar to how Snape did on any given day lately, but she still had her kind eyes that pulled at his heart. He swiped the start of tears from the corner of his eyes... He wasn't lying last night when he said he felt like he was a total mess lately.

"Mrs. Weasley," he called, walking over to her slowly unsure of how she would react to seeing him, "what are you doing here?"

"Oh Harry," she called with a large, sad smile and pulled him into a full body hug, firm enough to be solid but soft enough not to hurt his always aching body. She extended him back, still holding onto his arms, to get a good look at him as if she hadn't seen him in years. Small tears forming in her eyes when she called out to him in a serious voice, "I've been trying to see you for a while now, young man!"

This time, Harry couldn't stop the tears that welled in his eyes. Even after her son was murdered because of him and her daughter laid unconscious up in the hospital wing, she was still standing in front of him, lecturing him, and it felt good. It felt like what any mother would do to the son she loved.

"Shouldn't you be at the train station?" He may sometimes lose all track of time, but even he knew it was the 1st of September.

"Oh deary, it's left two hours ago. I was up visiting Ginny and ran into Severus who told me I could floo in," she gestured him towards the sofa where he sat down with her directly next to him. It was something so little but meant so much that she didn't sit away from him. "Now, tell me how you are really doing."

"I'm ok. Or as well as I can be I guess," he rubbed his hands together nervously knowing she would never believe it. "How're you, and Ginny? I'm so sorry Mrs. Weasley-"

"None of that now Harry," she patted his hand, "you had nothing to do with what had happened, understood? We talked about this already and not a thing has changed."

"That's what Remus said about Sirius, but I know he didn't mean it. How could he not blame me? How can you not blame me?" Harry mumbled feeling the guilt and crawled back and settled into his chest at the same time he was feeling ashamed and embarrassed for having admitted to that out loud.

"He absolutely meant it, as do I Harry. None of this is your fault. You happen to be caught in the middle of a complicated mess of things, but you are not the cause of any of it," she reprimanded, similar to what Snape told him, but somehow firmer and kinder at the same time. "Anyway, Bill is making great work on breaking the curse and we'll all move on. That's all we can do Harry, just keep moving forward."

"That's great to hear Mrs. Weasley," and Harry truly meant it, if Ginny could get better, maybe that would help him cope just a bit more with the situation.

They sat next to each other with an awkward silence between them. Mrs. Weasley softly rubbed soft circles on Harry's back.

"How's Ron?" he finally asked genuinely curious about his friend, even if he wasn't sure they were still friends.

"He misses you," Mrs. Weasley said sympathetically, "he's scared for you, but you know Ron won't say something so explicitly. He said it would be strange not having you on the trip into school, but a mother knows how to listen to the words her son is not saying."

"Or at the welcoming feast," Harry reminded her but as a matter of fact statement, not sad, "or classes."

"You'll get back there Harry," she said, patting him yet again. "If you don't mind my asking, what happened exactly between you two? Hermione filled me in on most of the details, but if there's some way I could help, I'd like to do what I can."

Is this what a mother would do when her children fought? Harry closed his eyes trying to think of what it would have been like if his mum were still alive; would she have gotten involved by now? Or what if his parents had another child - they were young enough when he was born to have had at least one more - and he had a younger brother or sister to fight with? What would Snape have done in the other reality? It was alarming how often he asked himself about what his life was like with Snape as his parent, not admitting to himself that he would be ok with that now.

"He was upset that I... called Professor Snape... Severus," remembering back to the conversation he had with Hermione, he was embarrassed to admit that to Mrs. Weasley. Would she be as insulted as Ron had been?

"Is that all? Ronald really needs to mind his own business now doesn't he?" Harry couldn't help but smile at that statement. He got the impression she already knew about what he called Snape, but knowing she didn't mind made him feel better about the whole situation.

"When do you start your classes? Do you have your books?" She asked in her motherly way.

"Tomorrow and yes, Professor Snape had my books owl ordered in," he thought about the professor's old potions book and warmness filled him inside again, "I guess I'm going to have evening classes with professors and daytime studying with students, but I don't have a timetable yet. Or at least an estimated one depending on how I'm feeling each day."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, "And I hear Hermione is going to be two of your student tutors?"

It was awkward talking to Mrs. Weasley about this kind of stuff as if nothing this summer had happened. Maybe she really didn't blame him for Ginny and Charlie. Maybe this was the conversation he needed to have with her all along, but he'd been avoiding it.

"Yeah, she is. I don't know who else will be though because Hermione's kind of the best student in everything."

While he didn't know for sure who else would be tutoring him, having Hermione as his Charms and Transfiguration tutor helped him narrow down his guesses for the others. Professor McGonagall had chosen students from his year instead of the seventh year, so it would most likely be Neville for Herbology and, unfortunately, Malfoy for Potions. He was stumped for DADA because honestly he probably would have been the likely first choice if it were any other student and he couldn't tutor himself. He was so lost in thought, he completely missed what Mrs. Weasley had said.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley, what was that?" He asked sheepishly, hating to be called out on not listening to her.

"It's ok dear. I said I've arranged it with Professor Snape to be here with you while he and Professor McGonagall are both in classes next week. You have your long treatments starting up again correct?"

"Yes ma'am, it all starts again this Saturday. Healer Smithe said that hopefully I'll be back in classes before Halloween."

If he could just get through the next four weeks, Harry had high hopes that whatever the next phase was, it could not really get any worse than this one. He wanted to go back to classes, watch Quidditch - honestly, he wanted to play Quidditch, but even he knew that wasn't possible - eat meals in the Great Hall, even study in the library, just go back to his normal life... if there ever was such a thing for him.

~~~~SS~~~~

The students would be arriving in about two hours time and Severus still had a lot to complete before classes started back tomorrow. At first he thought teaching defense would be a good change this year for the extra flexibility - with Slughorn coming back to take his old post - but he forgot how much he depended on the familiar lesson plans and curriculum especially at the start of term. This was now like his first year teaching all over again and with Harry's treatments it would keep him extremely busy; at least for the first month or so.

Surprisingly he'd slept well last night, so he was at least more clear headed than he had been in days. Of course with his newly cleared mind, he couldn't help but question why he slept all night on a day that Harry had chemotherapy - even a relatively easy day of it - and he suspected Harry somehow had something to do with it either intentionally or unintentionally. He didn't get the chance to question Harry on it since he left before Harry had woken up that morning. On a normal day, he wouldn't allow such a lie in, but when he'd gone to wake Harry up this morning it was obvious the young wizard had been up late. So he removed Harry's glasses and tucked him under his bedspread before leaving him a note about where the professor would be during the day.

Instead of preparing for his classes - as he should have been doing with his newfound energy - he was determined to get through as much of his medical research as possible. He found himself sitting at his desk in his classroom office with several books open across the desk. The need to know how Harry managed to get the Leukemia had been quickly pushed aside when he came across a passage about how Leukemia was formed. He obviously had known it was a blood cancer stemming from the bone marrow since he'd heard two healers explain it - once in each reality - but he had not thought any further about it and now he was desperate to know if his hypothesis could be correct.

"Shit," he said as he finally started to connect the pieces to the puzzle no one even knew existed.

How could this have been overlooked? He raced to the floo in his office to contact Alton at home, throwing down the floo powder so forcefully it spat back into his face.

"Alton!" Severus called frantically through the floo hoping he'd be able to get in contact with the healer today. He'd not forgotten that he needed to discuss his lack of availability from yesterday, but this took higher priority than even that. He was relieved when his friend kneeled down into the floo. "Can you come through to my defense office for a minute? I need your assistance on something."

"Sure thing Severus," the healer replied, "I'll be right there."

Severus paced the floor in front of his desk. While he knew he could trust Alton, he still wasn't sure how much information he could safely give. He needed confirmation before approaching Albus as the elderly wizard wouldn't know anything about muggle cancers, but he had to keep his hand close to his chest.

"Is everything alright Severus?" Alton asked confused as to why he was called to Severus's office. This could not have to do with Harry if he wasn't in the man's quarters or the hospital wing.

"I hope so," the professor replied, picking up one of the medical books titled The Principles and Practice of Pediatric Oncology. "Tell me about Leukemia."

The healer narrowed his eyes bewildered, "Aren't we a little bit past this point Severus?"

Sighing, the professor explained, "I've been trying to figure out how Harry ended up with the Leukemia, but I keep coming back to the idea of a blood cancer and how they're formed."

"Well, the simple answer is that his bone marrow is making white blood cells that have damaged instructions, so to say, preventing them from working properly and they are being made at an exponential rate," Alton sat down tiredly at the desk watching his friend pour through the various medical books. "Is there something specific you're looking for?"

"What if a Leukemia patient donated their bone marrow?" It was the closest direct question Severus could ask without inducting Alton into the Order. The conditions of the Dark Lord's resurrection were not widely known and if his thought process was correct, that was to their benefit right now.

"Well," the healer sounded beyond confused as they had not discussed a bone marrow transplant for Harry, "no one would take donated marrow from someone who had Leukemia. They usually get the donated marrow, not the other way around."

The air was almost knocked completely out of Severus's lungs as he remembered the pepper ups, fever reducers, blood replenishers, and invigorating draughts he was asked to brew before the Pivot Drive attack. It seemed too easy to be true and yet the evidence had been sitting right in front of him this whole time.

"And Harry's cancer... It's... aggressive you called it?"

"Very much so," Alton explained gravely, "which is why we attack it so many different ways and for so many years. He'll also need to be tested regularly even after the maintenance phase is completed to watch for any relapses. Leaving just a single Leukemia cell can jump start the whole process over again."

How did he miss it? Sure he'd been distracted, but this could put a major change to their plan of attack.

"And if Harry decided he wanted to stop treatment? Or had he not wanted to treat it to begin with? How long would it have taken to..." He couldn't say it even though he wasn't thinking about Harry at all for this conversation.

"Now you're scaring me Severus. What's going on?" Alton had gone from confused to concerned in a second. These were questions a healer never wanted to hear from a patient or a caregiver, "I know he's had a rough month but as Harry's medical proxy I hope you don't consider letting him make a decision like that; at least not without some discussions with me first."

"Of course not," the professor reassured, "I'm simply trying to keep things in perspective."

Severus was relieved to see his explanation was acceptable as Alton started calculating in his head, "For an acute leukemia like ALL... based on when we first tested him... without treatment at all, not taking into account his magic trying to heal him which could slow it down a little... he likely wouldn't have made it much further than now... definitely not to Halloween."

Severus couldn't stop his legs from shaking as he sat down in the chair behind his desk. He had known the cancer was aggressive, but it was almost devastating to know that had they not caught it, Harry would probably be dead or close to it by now. Holding his head in his hands, he tried to compose himself as quickly as possible using his Occlumency.

"Thank you Alton; we'll see you Saturday," the professor said standing up and quickly exiting his office heading straight to see the Headmaster.

"Severus," Albus called from the other side of his desk when his new Defense Professor entered the office in a hurry, not even knocking beforehand, "Lemon drop?"

"The Dark Lord used Harry's blood, and by extension his bone marrow, as his own," Severus called out, ignoring the offer of the blasted sweet. A quick glance around the room and he was relieved to see the Headmaster was alone when he made this declaration. In hindsight, it was not his most graceful entrance.

"Yes Severus, we did already know that fact," Albus appeared not only perplexed, but also deeply concerned for his professor to be making such an obvious statement.

Severus gave a hard sigh and tried to explain this a different way, "Harry's cancer originated in the bone marrow itself... it is not a disease one catches, but is written within the structure of his bone marrow, which creates the components of the blood."

Albus's eyes lit up; he stood leaning across his desk almost pleading for his former spy to be corrected.

"Are you saying there is a chance Voldemort has the same cancer as Harry?"

"More than a chance, yes," he was talking almost frantically now putting the connections together in his head, "and the fact that I had been brewing him potions to combat the symptoms - fatigue, lower immune system, easier bleeding - indicates it's starting to infect him. The disease is aggressively fatal, it should be only a matter of time before he's gone."

"There's something missing Severus," the older wizard skeptically said, "we've had no reports that Voldemort has taken ill. Quite the opposite actually as the Death Eater activity is increasing by the day. Surely something like this would be noticeable by now."

That was true and something Severus could not overlook no matter how hard he wanted to. If Harry had been as ill as he was when the diagnosis came two months ago, there was no way the Dark Lord would still be functioning as he had been. Magic would help mask some of the symptoms, but not by that much. Harry was as strong of a wizard as the Dark Lord, even if neither of them would admit it, and he would have been close to death at this point.

"I don't know," Severus hated to admit defeat on that simple, but very important point. "As soon as the opportunity presents itself, I'll ask Mr. Malfoy for his assessment; obviously without giving him the information we've just uncovered."

Albus lifted his head towards the door while simultaneously holding a hand to pause Severus from speaking any further.

"Come in Minerva," the elderly wizard announced his Deputy Headmistress's arrival; obviously for Severus's benefit.

Minerva walked confidently into the room, hands full of parchment and books, her eyes lighting up at seeing both of the professors in front of her.

"Just the two men I needed to see," she placed all the parchment onto Albus's desk. "I have the final schedule for Harry's classes worked out, but I need both of your signatures before the final copy can go out to the Board of Governors."

"Of course," Albus said, picking up the top piece of parchment and handing the one below it to Severus.

Professor Schedule

1 per Evening x 5 Days

Day 1: Defense

Day 2: Charms

Day 3: Herbology

Day 4: Potions

Day 5: Transfiguration

Make-Up As needed:

Day 6: Potions / Herbology

Day 7: Charms / Transfiguration

Student Tutor Schedule

2 per day x 5 days

Day 1: Herbology / Transfiguration

Day 2: Potions / Defense

Day 3: Transfiguration / Charms

Day 4: Herbology / Defense

Day 5: Potions / Charms

Tutor Assignments

Herbology: Neville Longbottom

Charms / Transfiguration: Hermione Granger

Potions / Defense: Draco Malfoy

"Severus," Minerva said once it was obvious he had read through the parchment, "as Head of Slytherin, you need to sign off on Mr. Malfoy's tutoring assignment. I've already arranged it with him and his schedule."

"And if I disagree with this rotation?" He raised a single eyebrow to the Transfiguration Professor.

"Well, it's a bit late to do that. There were a lot of moving parts just to get this one to work," she said more than a bit insulted. "What is not to your liking here?"

He was not trying to be difficult, but practical, "It's the fact that Draco will be doing a double tutoring on Tuesdays. I wish to keep my quarters standing and both boys alive if that's not too much to ask."

"Surely the two of them can manage for this purpose," Minerva lectured. "If we see there is an issue, I'll address it as needed."

"Says the person who will not have them unsupervised in her quarters," the defense professor narrowed his eyes while simultaneously signing the parchment then handing it back to her.

"Albus," Minerva said, completely ignoring Severus's glare, "what shall we tell the students? Surely they'll notice Harry is missing from classes. At a bare minimum Messrs Finnegan, Thomas, and Longbottom certainly will notice him not in their dormitory."

"There will be a generic announcement at the end of the feast tonight," the Headmaster looked worn and tired making that statement. Severus could appreciate how difficult it must be to be in his position during times like this. "Nothing personal of course; simply stating that for the foreseeable future Harry will not be attending classes en mass and will be living outside of Gryffindor tower for his personal safety. None of which is technically incorrect nor does it violate Harry's right to privacy."

The Headmaster stood up, which Severus took as their dismissal. With the last three-quarters of an hour before the students arrived, he briskly walked back down to the dungeon where he knew Harry would be; most likely still with Mrs. Weasley. His wards warned him earlier this afternoon that Harry was attempting to leave their quarters, so he made sure to casually run into Mrs. Weasley - who hadn't left the hospital wing all week - and suggested she visit him before the students arrived. Since he had not heard from her nor his wards, he naturally assumed the distraction managed to keep the Gryffindor contained.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and was greeted by the aroma of freshly baked biscuits; something he was confident his quarters had never smelled like before. Peeking into the kitchen, he saw the final products sitting on a plate in the center of the table. Not being able to resist, he picked up one of the smallest and walked into the sitting room.

"Thank you for the biscuits," he said to Mrs. Weasley who was knitting on the sofa. He was surprised she had stayed this long; something must have happened to cause her to do so.

"Oh, it's nothing," she waved him off and he could not help but make a comparison to himself whenever Harry thanked him for something.

"He's in his room," she answered the question he didn't ask as she packed up her knitting work. "It was a rough afternoon and biscuits help make everything seem just a little brighter. I'll be on my way, I shouldn't be here when the students arrive."

"Thank you again, Molly."

Severus walked out of the sitting room pausing in front of Harry's bedroom to compose himself. Without chemotherapy today it was unlikely Harry's "rough day" was because of his physical health. He knocked lightly onto Harry's door and received a quiet, "come in" from the teen inside.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, walking to the desk and as always taking a seat in the chair.

Harry was laying across his bed reading through his defense textbook again. The professor's breath hitched at the déjà vu of seeing his son reading casually in bed.

"Yeah," Harry answered sullenly, barely looking up. "Why?"

"We seem to be on opposite schedules as of late," he answered noticing the teenager was obviously upset, "I feel as if I've barely seen you."

Harry gave an ironic laugh still not looking up from his notebook, "It's not like your my father here or anything, so it doesn't really matter does it?"

That statement hurt Severus more than he would ever show. No, he wasn't Harry's parent here, but he wished he were. The lack of that single piece of paper in this reality did not change his feelings towards the teenager sitting in front of him. He wanted things to go back to how they'd been and for the first time since waking up in this different world he wondered if it would have been easier staying where he was. Yes, Harry was dead there, but that was definitive; this was sometimes like an awful purgatory. Harry was here, but not only fighting for his life in more ways than one, sometimes Severus questioned if he was a true part of it all.

"No," he said quietly, lifting Harry chin to meet his eyes, "I'm not, but I hope at this point you've seen that I care about how you're doing and not just physically."

That seemed to get through whatever walls Harry had managed to build up around himself throughout the day.

"I'm sorry Severus, that wasn't fair to you," Harry said, pulling away from the professor, "I don't know what got into me. I feel so stir crazy... don't get me wrong, I like that I have more energy today, but at the same time because I feel so much more normal, I want to just leave."

"I'll remind you of this on Saturday. It was bound to be rough today and with classes restarting, things will likely change a little around here," Severus knew what was plaguing Harry's mind, "but you will be able to leave again, at some point, and I will make sure you are not left behind. I promise you that, understood."

"Yes sir."

"Harry," Severus cautiously said, not sure this was the right time to bring it up but he had to ask, "how were you feeling last night? I was honestly surprised you weren't up at all from the chemotherapy."

"Oh," if it was possible, Harry's face fell even further as a small flush crept up from his neck to his cheeks, "I was fine... must have just been a good night."

It could not have been more obvious that he had not been fine. In fact, Severus had learned after all this time living with Harry that his fine actually meant far from fine but I don't want to talk about it. Wondering what the Gryffindor could have done - most likely a silencing charm - he peered over at Harry and decided not to push the issue today.

"Oh, that's great to hear," the defense professor played along and held out the parchment with Harry's schedule watching carefully as the Gryffindor read through it, "your timetable and the list of student tutors. It's defense tomorrow, so I'll work with you after dinner and then the student-led instruction will start Tuesday."

"Seriously, Malfoy twice... In one day?!"

He saw this was coming from a Quidditch field away. Even if he didn't like it Severus knew this was the best option; Draco was the second best Potions and Defense student only after Hermione and Harry respectively.

"It's the best option we have. Miss. Granger can't do all the tutoring; when would she have time for her own assignments?"

The young wizard simply glared up at Severus and the professor made a mental note to add alarming spells to his quarters before Tuesday.

They had seven new Slytherins sorted into his house. While it was a surprisingly lower number than he'd expected, it worked in his favor this year because his prefects were more than capable of handling that number of lost, potentially whiney first years. Outside of his normal dour appearance at the feast, he was keeping a closer than normal watch on both the Gryffindor table as well as Draco. As expected, the new spy appeared more withdrawn than normal tonight.

"May I please have your attention," Albus called from the front podium once the pudding was completed and the students were starting to get antsy to leave. "I have a few housekeeping announcements to make; I will try to keep them short so you may be on your way to your dormitories to get a good night's rest before classes start tomorrow morning.

"Mr. Filch, our caretaker has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the shop called Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise.

"We are pleased to welcome a new member of the staff this year. Professor Slughorn is a former colleague of mine who has agreed to resume his old post of Potions Master."

Severus could hear the not-so-subtle murmuring while Albus paused to let the news settle in. As anticipated, only the Slytherins appeared disappointed which didn't bother Severus one bit. No matter which reality he had been in, it was not a secret that he only marginally tolerated teaching, especially the first, second, and third years.

"Professor Snape meanwhile will be taking over the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Again, the Headmaster paused as this caused an even louder uproar than Slughorn's announcement. It was almost worth all the stares just to see Longbottom almost pass out from shock. This would prove to be a challenging year for them all.

"Finally," Albus said, loudly drawing the attention back to himself, "as you may have noticed Ginerva Weasley and Harry Potter are not in attendance at the feast tonight. As many of you are already aware, over the summer hols there was an attack at the Weasley home where Miss Weasley was unfortunately injured. We will keep her and her family in our thoughts for quick healing as she continues in her recovery, hopefully returning in the very near future.

"It is also with my deepest regret to announce that Harry Potter will not be joining his fellow classmates in their classes nor will he be living in the Gryffindor tower-" The Great Hall became overrun with students talking over one another about this news. Speaking louder to command control again the Headmaster continued, "- These measures are being taken for his personal safety and will be in place until further notice. I ask that you all respect his privacy during this time and should you have anything pressing regarding these arrangements, please bring it to your Heads of House. Good night."

The moment Albus sat back down at the head table, the hall exploded in conversation and gossip. It seemed between Slughorn, Severus, and Harry, every student - besides most of the first years who admittingly looked both confused and concerned by their fellow students' reactions - had an opinion on something.

"That was quite the announcement Albus," Minerva, who was seated between Severus and Albus, said. "Very tactfully done. However, I better go and settle my house down; I expect there will be plenty of questions."

The Gryffindor table was by far the loudest with most students crowding around Hermione and Ron. Every so often, both of Harry's best friends would turn towards the head table making eye contact with their newest defense teacher.

"Before you go calm your lions down," Severus called towards Minerva, grabbing her arm as she stood, "will you allow me to accompany Mr. Weasley and Miss. Granger for a quick visit with Harry. They appear a bit overwhelmed at the moment and Harry was having a rough day knowing all the students are returning. I'm sure your other four prefects can handle your first years."

"What a great idea Severus," she smiled in a way knowing it would irk him, "that's so very kind of you."

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, instead settling on a scowl, he walked up to his seventh year prefects, "Please get the students to the common room. I'll be slightly later than usual for our house meeting, but go through the house rules with them; you've heard them enough not to miss anything. Do not let anyone leave the common room while I am gone. The password is Asphodel."

With a nod from both prefects he was confident, he at least would not come back to his Slytherins all over the place. He then made his way over to the Gryffindor table where Ron and Hermione were currently surrounded by their fellow housemates as well as a select few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs.

"...heard you-know-who got him..."

"Is it true..."

"...fought off a hundred dementors all on his own!"

"...heard he's dying..."

"Shove it Matthews," Ron called out to one of the fifth year Ravenclaws who made the last statement. The redhead stood up both pulling out his wand and raising his arms at the same time as if he wasn't sure if he wanted to hex or hit the boy now standing directly in front of him.

"Haven't you done enough fighting lately Mr. Weasley," Severus said in a low, long voice. Satisfyingly, the sea of students parted allowing him access to the two Gryffindor's he was coming to collect.

"If you and Miss. Granger will follow with me, you've been relieved of your prefect duties for the night."

Without even waiting for a response, Severus turned and started to leave the Great Hall already knowing the two students would be following him. They made their way down into the dungeons in complete silence. Stopping before the empty stretch of stone where the door to his quarters was located he turned to the two prefects and narrowed his eyes.

"If either of you tell another student where this door is, you'll be in detention for the rest of the year. If you cannot maintain proper decorum tonight-" he took a long piercing stare at Ron who started to visibly pale, "- those detentions will be at dawn on Saturdays. Understood?"

"Yes Professor," they both said in unison and Severus placed his hand on the small depression to the right of where, a second later, the large wooden door appeared.

"Wicked," Ron said, amazed because the only other way they'd gotten into Snape's quarters before was through the floo.

"After you," Severus said, holding the door open silently hoping he did not make a mistake in doing this.

~~~~HP~~~~

By now, Harry knew the welcoming feast was likely over and everyone was hanging out in the common room or the dormitories; one of his favorite parts of the year. By now everyone had likely known he wasn't there. Harry wondered where everyone assumed he was; did Dumbledore end up making an announcement? Probably not, he wouldn't want to draw any unwanted attention to the fact he was missing. Harry didn't want him to draw any unwanted attention.

He was finishing the sketch of himself with Dudley, so it would be ready to go out with the letter he was planning to write tomorrow while Snape was teaching. The picture was of the two boys in his small Privet Drive bedroom, Harry drawn in his pyjamas on a chemo day connected to his port sitting up across the bed with Dudley in the armchair next to him. Between them was the Monopoly game set up on the edge of the bed. He really missed his cousin and regretted how long it took for him to really see that the other boy had changed. That hindsight thing Snape always spoke about was so true; if he could only go back and choose to spend more time with him knowing what was going to happen. With any luck, he'd be able to convince Snape to let him visit over the Christmas or summer holiday.

A soft knock on his door drew his attention up from his work. It seemed early for Snape to return since he had to go "set down the ground rules" for his new snakes after the welcoming feast. Harry wondered not for the first time, what he was like as a Head of House. In the Gryffindor house, as long as no one did anything stupid - which he's done plenty in his five years there - McGonagall usually let them be on their own. He had a pretty educated guess that Snape was much more strict with his own house.

"Hi Harry," he heard from the other side of the door.

Hearing Hermione's voice was such a welcome surprise he immediately perked up and seeing her friendly face immediately pushed back his small sour mood.

"Hermione!" He called out to his friend, "Aren't you supposed to be instructing a bunch of 11 year olds how to be good Gryffindors?"

Hermione laughed and opened the door wider to reveal Ron standing partially hidden behind her.

"No Mate," Ron said sheepishly, "that's usually my job. Could you imagine 12 more little Hermione's running around?"

Harry couldn't contain the smile at the sight of his first friend standing in his doorway. By just showing up, he somehow knew things with Ron would be alright.

"Good one Ron," Harry replied, beckoning his two friends into his room. "We have 12 new Gryffindors?"

Hermione nodded, "We're definitely going to be busy this year, but Professor McGonagall apparently gave us the night off. All we know is that Professor Snape came over to the Gryffindor table and told us to follow him down here."

"Then he threatened us with detention every Saturday at dawn if we told a single person where to find the door," Ron had a terrified look on his face and Harry doubted that the professor would actually follow through on the threat. While Snape was always an early riser, he doubted the man would commit to waking up before dawn on every Saturday. Either way though, the fact that Snape had gone out of his way to do something like this was not lost on Harry.

"Listen," Ron started rubbing the back of his neck, his face flushing slightly to match the color of his hair, "I'm really sorry for what I said last time and for... y'know, hitting you. I was being a total prat about it all, and trust me I don't think my mum will ever let me forget about what an awful friend I was. I dunno what I was thinking... it's not like you want all this stuff to happen around you... And I know it."

"Glad you can finally see that again," Harry retorted sharply.

"Whatever's going on with you and Snape," Ron started watching Hermione, more likely than not indicating that the Gryffindor witch scolded him to stay out of this one, "it's your business. I don't understand it, but between 'Mione and my mum, I've more than learned that it doesn't matter if I do. And even I know what I said wasn't fair to you."

Harry laughed; another full laugh that was so hard to come by lately. The image of Hermione and Mrs. Weasley badgering him incessantly was something of nightmares for his red-headed friend. Nodding his understanding and forgiveness, the three friends continued recounting their summer and discussing the upcoming school year as if nothing had happened between them.

~~~~SS~~~~

"Mr. Malfoy, stay after class. The rest of you are free to go," Severus said in his typical long drawl as his first defense class - the sixth year NEWTs - was coming to a close.

He started the class with a quick aptitude test for each student to see where they were performing after the previous abysmal instructors. As expected, most of the Slytherins were up to par for a start of sixth year level, simply because they tended to receive extra practice at home with various ways around the underage magic laws such as unregistered practice wands. Severus turned a blind eye to the custom only because his mother had an unregistered practice wand that he was, more often than not, allowed to use.

Surprisingly from the aptitude test, was how well the members of Harry's defense group performed. He had anticipated they would do better than the non-Slytherin, non-members, but he did not expect them to outperform his Slytherins. He couldn't help but feel proud that Harry had not only stood up for what was needed against Umbridge, but he had also taught his members so well that Severus now had a full class of very well prepared students.

Their first lesson of the year was on nonverbal spells - a skill they would be using across their other classes - but the students seemed more interested in Harry's absence and Draco's odd silence on the matter than actually learning anything. The last thing he, or the Order, needed was for other students to connect the dots between Draco and Harry. Naturally, due to the lack of focus in class, he assigned a 24-inch essay on the benefits to, and process for, nonverbal spells as well as which spell they thought was the most beneficial to cast nonverbally. He was already dreading reading through them all after their next class.

Draco approached his desk as Theodore Nott, who Severus noticed kept a close watch on Draco throughout the lesson, was exiting the classroom. Immediately after the door closed Severus used a heavy locking spell and silencing ward on the door so no one could eavesdrop and they would not be interrupted.

"Any news?" He asked his student.

"You know, there's not much that could have changed since we talked two days ago." Draco said sarcastically placing his school bag on the floor then leaning against the desk in an attempt to appear intimidating, "of course with him being at my house it doesn't necessarily take a summons to hear things."

Severus took note of the disgusted look upon Draco's face. This was a good sign for the blonde. While he may have defected originally to align himself to the side he thought would least likely land him in Azkaban, the professor could see some semblance of fundamental change happening within him. Maybe there was a chance for Draco after all?

"And how is our favorite Dark Lord?" Severus asked, keeping them on task.

"Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?" Draco snapped as if Severus had lost his mind, "How do you expect him to be? Charming? Psychopathic? I'm certain there are a few more colorful adjectives I can come up with."

"I am merely making conversation, Draco," Severus explained, secretly noting that had Voldemort been gravely ill Draco would have definitely known, especially now that he'd taken up residence at Malfoy Manor. Things were not adding up with the cancer hypothesis and it bothered the former spy immensely.

"Have you been able to find any significance to the date of Charlie Weasley's body being discovered at the Ministry?" The professor asked, sounding bored with the conversation so as not to place any extra importance on the question.

"Of course there was, but I don't know the exact reason or if it had anything to do with Potter," Draco answered arrogantly; then added, "I took your hint and casually questioned Aunt Bella about why the Dark Lord would pick a Saturday, of all days, if he wanted to make a statement."

"Doubting the Dark Lord to his most esteemed follower? I'm sure that went well for you," the former spy provoked. Draco was playing with fire and if he kept up with it, he was bound to get burned. To make a point, he added, "You best be careful. Bellatrix won't think twice before skewering you if the Dark Lord asked her to; don't think she'll give you any leeway just because she's your aunt."

"It was the best I could do and it got you your information," Draco snapped again, highly insulted. "She said that the statement wasn't made for the public or the ministry and that I should never question his plans." He mumbled the last part.

Damnit, it was targeted.

The odds of a leak within the Order or directly within Harry's medical team were getting higher and he didn't like that one bit. He'd have to discuss with Albus how to handle the times where Harry had chemotherapy and he was teaching, so Harry wouldn't be left exposed. Someone in that room with him should know exactly what medications he was getting and the correct dosages for each one.

"Has he found another brewer? My last day of... service... was spent brewing a large number of potions, at some point I assume he'll be needing more?"

There was a pause while Draco thought about that question. It was unlikely the blonde would have much reason to know about the brewing habits of the Dark Lord, but he needed to plant the seed for him to start paying more attention to that aspect. If the Dark Lord had figured out about the Leukemia - and that would be a stretch in and of itself - then he would without a doubt go with the potions regimens, not even considering muggle chemotherapy as an option. There are few brewers available to brew such potions, so it would only be a matter of time before he convinced or coerced one to work for him.

Shaking his head, Draco expectantly said, "I really don't know."

"Keep an ear out going forward," Severus explained as he started cleaning up his desk, "I'm specifically interested in any unique potions he may need brewed for him."

"Of course professor," Draco said oddly obediently giving Severus the feeling that he was getting overwhelmed with all the different aspects to his new found job. If that was the case, then he hated what he needed to discuss next.

"When you are summoned while at school," Severus paused letting that statement sink in, "you are to come to my quarters immediately. I will help get you out of the anti-apparation wards where you can then answer his summons. You are then to floo back to my quarters from the manor. If I'm not there, you are to find me the moment you return; I do not care where I am or what I am doing, you are to interrupt me."

Draco's face paled as he considered the fact that he would not only be summoned again, but at some point it would be while at school. Luckily, whenever Severus had been called in during the school year it was never while class was in session and he suspected the Dark Lord would give Draco the same courtesy. Being a prefect would work out to his benefit this year.

"I hadn't thought about that," Draco said honestly, his eyes shifting as he logically went through what he'd have to do to get away secretly.

"Did you bring your necessary supplies?" He asked referring to his Death Eater mask and robes, which were hopefully well hidden away in the teen's trunk.

"Of course I did." Draco responded highly offended.

Severus nodded his approval then continued, "Do you have any objections to tutoring Mr. Potter? I can speak with Professor McGonagall if you feel it's too much for you. It will be a lot to handle on top of a full course load, Quidditch, prefect duties, and your new hobby."

"Seriously professor?" Draco smirked almost laughing for the first time since staying behind class, "It's Potter; I doubt he's going to challenge me too much. Not only that, I'm told I'll earn an exemplary recommendation from it, so it's not like I don't get anything out of the deal. "

"You'd be surprised," the professor explained, "he's motivated to stay caught up with his courses as much as possible. Plus he has little else to keep himself occupied with at the moment. Dare I say when he returns to classes, he may be more of a competition to you than you'd expect."

Draco gave a face that showed he clearly was not convinced, but Severus wasn't exaggerating. Given Harry's resolve to keep up and his lack of distraction - outside of chemotherapy - he very well could come out closer to the top of his class.

"Rule number two Draco, never underestimate others; it can be detrimental to your mission."

After Harry's attempt to leave their quarters yesterday, Severus made a point of having lunch with the Gryffindor as it was the first day of classes and his student tutoring did not start until tomorrow. Meals in the Great Hall may not have been required for the professors, but Albus definitely expected their presence, specifically the Heads of Houses. So while Severus couldn't spend every meal in his quarters throughout the weeks Harry was quarantined, he had told the headmaster not to expect him specifically at lunch today and not for any meals on chemotherapy days.

"I've made a change to our Defense lesson this evening," Severus said over ham sandwiches, courtesy of the house elves.

"Oh," Harry said, not even trying to hide his confusion. "Why? What are we changing?"

"Given the level of your Defense skills from the group you taught, as well as the fact that - while the Department of Mysteries fiasco did not have the best outcome - six 4th and 5th year students managed not to get themselves killed against a set of Death Eaters, your time now will be better spent starting Occlumency."

Harry sat silent taking in what he had just been told. He narrowed his eyes at the professor, "You could have said, we're starting Occlumency instead and saved yourself about a hundred words. But thank you for the almost-compliment."

Severus pulled out his wand and summoned a book, Clearing Your Mind and the Beginning of Occlumency, which he handed to Harry hoping he wasn't overstepping, "This helped you learn when I taught you in my old reality. Please read the first three chapters today and try to practice clearing your mind. Merlin knows you can use it."

Harry took the book and opened it to the first chapter. Severus was surprised not to hear an immediate complaint about the old style writing which was the very first thing the other Harry had said. Instead, he saw a conflicted emotion cross the young wizard's face.

"Why didn't you give this to me the first time?" Harry asked in a sad, confused voice.

He'd known the question was coming and luckily he had prepared for it, "Harry, please understand that while I have the memories from my counterpart here, I am not him. I still hold the persona of my old self. I can tell you what happened, but not the rationale behind each event," he explained hoping Harry could understand the implications of what he'd just said.

"Well you're a better man than he was," Harry said standing up clutching the book to his chest with the start of a scowl on his face. "Thank you for this, I'll get started right away."

Harry walked out of the kitchen and when Severus heard his bedroom door close, he said to the empty room, "I wish I were a good man Harry."

~~~~HP~~~~

What made him think reading a book about Occlumency would make this process any easier? Harry really tried to get through the first three chapters as Snape asked him to, but he was only 7 pages in and he already knew he wasn't going to make it.

First, the book had to have been written at least two hundred years ago, which made the text difficult to physically read. It was written so long ago, in fact, that Harry wondered where Snape had even gotten this book. If it were in his possession in both realities it was likely to be part of his private collection, the thought of which angered Harry more than anything else he had learned from Snape so far.

So basically the Bastard Snape - that's exactly how I should differentiate them - had this book the whole time he raped my mind for memories and then just sat on his arse watching me struggle to learn.

Second, the book gave him almost no actual instructions on how to start this whole process. If this is where Snape learned Occlumency, he could almost understand why he couldn't explain the whole clear your mind concept. It was a convoluted idea and he had zero confidence that he would succeed in tonight's lesson. All he managed to gain from it was that he needed to consume himself in an image that would then be used to protect himself.

With any luck, Snape had a decent first day of teaching and would maybe have a little more patience than normal. Harry laughed at that thought as it flashed through his mind - Snape and patience were never used in the same sentence together.

The Gryffindor was surprised when dinner randomly showed up on the kitchen table; along with his evening medications. Snape previously explained that he could not get out of being at the first dinner after classes just in case his Slytherin's needed anything after their first full day. Yes, Snape had the standard "open office hours" as all professors did between the last class and dinner, but for some reason he preferred to extend his available time into dinner. Never in his five years at Hogwarts had Harry seen a student approach a teacher at the head table, let alone that teacher being Snape. The Gryffindor didn't even like the fact that the teachers sat watching over the students while they all ate. It was a strange feeling if he thought about it too hard.

Once he finished his dinner alone - making a mental note to check if Ron and Hermione could come down to eat with him from time to time - he continued trying to finish the Occlumency chapters and practice clearing his mind. He could confidently say he had finished the first three chapters, but he would not be able to recite a single thing from them. This was going to be an interesting lesson.

Harry was waiting in the sitting room when Snape finally returned at a half past six, robes billowing behind him as he dropped off a stack of parchment and books in his office then went down the hallway, presumably to his bedroom. The entire time he did not say a word to Harry or acknowledge his presence. Immediately Harry's anxiety increased which, based on the only thing he actually was able to understand from the Occlumency book, was not a good start to this whole process. According to the book and Snape, Occlumency required a calming and trust-filled relationship between student and mentor; something he would have a difficult time doing at the moment.

Harry watched with curiosity as the professor came back into the sitting room no longer wearing his robes, but instead wearing a pair of black trousers and a black buttoned-down shirt with the sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up beyond his middle forearms; just enough to see the snake head on Snape's dark mark. Harry really tried not to look, but he couldn't help it. The mark looked every bit as intimidating and full of dark magic as he remembered, but now it was also red and swollen along the edges; similar to how Harry's scar looked after a vision.

"I'll return in a minute," Snape said, summoning a tea set and pouring them both a cup of tea, "I'm going to borrow the Headmaster's pensieve, so please do not be surprised when I return with it."

"Oh, ok sir," Harry half murmured, half stuttered watching Snape floo to Dumbledore's office.

This was getting too similar to last year. Harry could feel his stomach roiling as if he had just finished a rough chemo round and his breathing was getting shallower with each breath he took. In fact, he was sure the Shepard's Pie he ate for dinner would end up on the floor any second now and Snape would absolutely have a fit over it.

The floo roared to life and Snape did walk out with the pensieve as he promised. Harry audibly gulped at the sight. It was not that he expected Snape to have lied about getting it, but something about just the sight of it in front of him made the young wizard want to quickly leave.

"Try not to panic," Snape said, placing the pensieve between them. "I have a different idea planned for this tonight."

Harry couldn't speak and had barely heard a word the professor had said. All he could do was stare at the pensieve in front of him and picture the day he'd seen Snape's memory. Except it was different now; where he used to focus on his dad humiliating Snape and the bully his dad had been, now he was remembering his mum standing up for the young awkward wizard and the regret that hung over the memory when Snape called her that awful name. He thought back to the conversation he had with Snape about his mother, their friendship, and the end of that friendship.

Suddenly it made sense. That was Snape's worst memory not only because he was embarrassed about Harry's dad hexing him, but because it was what broke up his friendship with Harry's mum. If she hadn't needed to defend him in the first place, the professor would never have lost his best friend. And then to add insult to injury, she ended up marrying the same person that broke up their friendship, and had a son who was almost a carbon copy of his tormentor.

For the first time since meeting Snape his first year at Hogwarts, Harry could almost understand where the animosity came from. There was a deep seated history between both of his parents with this man and he had been put right in the middle of it without any knowledge of what had happened. Did it make it right? Absolutely not, in fact it made Harry angry to think about. Not only was Harry just a child, but he was a child who had been orphaned before he even had a chance to really know his parents. There was no way he could have known their history or been influenced by it. Snape could have resented what Harry symbolized, but the man should have at least tried to understand that this 11 year old would have no idea why he was being hated.

Harry was brought back to the present when he felt a hand placed on his shoulder. Jumping, he instinctively reached for his wand stopping only when he saw the obsidian eyes, right in front his face, full of concern. Snape had shown a lot of concern and worry over the last couple of months for Harry - in fact it didn't really surprise the Gryffindor to see it anymore - but this was a deep worry he had never remembered seeing anyone in his life have for him before.

"Are you alright Harry?" Snape asked in a voice so calming it was almost dissociated from the professor.

"No," Harry admitted for himself as well as Snape, "I'm not alright!"

"You're having a panic attack," Snape said as Harry's eyes darted between the pensieve and his professor. Snape took hold of Harry's left hand and placed it on his own chest. "Focus on the feeling of my breathing."

To prove his point, Snape inhaled dramatically, held it for a couple of seconds and then dramatically exhaled. Harry wanted to pull his hand away from the man he'd worked into hating again. However, he somehow managed instead to focus on the feeling of Snape's rough hands on top of his own and the deceptively soft shirt beneath, as his hand rose and fell with the professor's dramatically deep breaths. Slowly, Harry synchronized his breathing with Snape's and he could feel himself starting to calm; his head wasn't so fuzzy, his ears weren't as muffled, and his mind getting less cloudy with each large breath.

"There you go," Snape said quietly, "welcome back."

"Thank you sir," Harry answered, pulling his hand away, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks.

"As I was saying," Snape continued recognizing that Harry was embarrassed and not wanting to draw more attention to it, "I think we'd do well to learn from our experiences."

"What makes you think I want to relive what happened last year-"

Snape lifted his hand to interrupt Harry, "I apologize; I misspoke. What I meant was, we have the benefit of already knowing you have the ability to learn Occlumency because I taught it to you previously. Correct?"

Harry furrowed his brow taking the time to think that through. Yes, Snape said he had learned it in his other reality, but did that automatically mean he could learn here?

"What did the book say is the first step to Occlumency?"

"To clear my mind," Harry tentatively replied. He didn't need the book to remember that one; Snape yelled it at him enough last year.

The professor didn't respond, but just raised his eyebrows as if he wanted Harry to continue.

"And that there needs to be a trust between student and mentor," when Snape nodded Harry felt a part of the boulder sitting on his chest start to rise.

"This time," Snape said carefully, "I brought the pensieve for you. I'd like you to place any memories you don't want to share or even possibly relive into the pensieve."

"You're not going to use it sir?"

Snape shook his head, "No, I will not be using it with any of our lessons going forward."

Harry knew that this was not something the Bastard Snape would do. That Snape would never trust Harry with even the possibility of seeing something he should not have.

"What about things for the Order? If I can't Occlude, won't Voldemort get to them?"

As always, Snape flinched when he said Voldemort's name but this time, Harry saw the skin around the dark mark redden more intensely. Was it embedded with dark magic to hurt whenever Voldemort's name was used? He always assumed Snape still somewhat respected the evil wizard, which is why he always said Dark Lord, but was it actually because it caused him pain?

"Does it hurt when I say Vol- his name?" Harry probably shouldn't have asked, but Snape wouldn't have left his dark mark exposed if he didn't want questions; he was too detail oriented for a slip up like that. It was almost as if the professor was inviting Harry to ask about it.

Snape nodded and lifted the remainder of his left sleeve to reveal the full dark mark surrounded by red, raw skin, "It burns as if I'm being summoned. This was a way to help ensure his Death Eaters were keeping the right company and could be punished if they were not."

"I didn't realize that," Harry said thinking back to all the times he'd said Voldemort's name with Snape present. "I'm sorry Severus. Everyone always has some kind of reaction to it, so I never thought twice about it."

"It's fine Harry," Snape said, lowering his sleeve to cover the mark again, fully this time. "Let's get started. Since you cannot use magic at the present time, if you will simply think of the memory you'd like removed, I will extract it and place it in the pensieve. Nod you head when you're ready."

Harry closed his eyes and thought about the Department of Mysteries, not because he didn't want Snape to see what had happened, but because he didn't want to relive it; he couldn't see Sirius fall through the veil yet again. He nodded and felt the hard tip of Snape's ebony wand touch his left temple and then what felt like a silky thread being pulled across the front of his mind. Opening his eyes, he watched the memory fall innocently into the pensieve.

"Again," Snape said and this repeated until Harry had what he deemed as his most private or worst memories safely stored where Snape could not see them.

Next, the professor waved his wand and all the furniture moved to the outside perimeter of the room leaving only a green, silver, and blue area rug he had never noticed before, which Snape enlarged for them to comfortably sit on. Snape sat cross-legged on the rug and summoned the tea set so it was nicely placed on the floor in front of him as if he were having a picnic. Harry had to suppress a laugh at the sight of this normally stoic man seemingly having a tea party on the floor.

Snape patted the rug area to his right inviting Harry to sit down beside him. Once Harry was nervously seated, the professor handed him a small tea cup filled with a tea he couldn't recognize by taste or smell.

"Valerian tea. It will help relax you." Snape said in reaction to Harry's perplexed expression. "Now, there are two stages of Occlumency; the first stage is where the person hides away all of their emotions and memories so they cannot be accessed by the Legilimency attack and the next is when specific memories are used in place of the hidden ones to help project whatever it is an Occlumens wants his opposition to believe."

They continued to drink their tea as Snape went into all the different ways Occlumency could be used, the most interesting to Harry was a way to prevent any Legilimens from knowing which spells he was about to use in a duel. That was one purpose he had not considered and would help him not only whenever he finally had to battle Voldemort, but also if he became an Auror. He could feel himself starting to relax both from the tea and Snape's smooth, even voice as he explained the theory.

"To clear one's mind means to put the emotions away temporarily where the possible attacker cannot find them. Eventually, this is a skill you'll be able not only to do at the moment you recognize an attack is being attempted, but as a way to prevent it in the first place. It will become second nature to you."

That sounded a bit far fetched for what Harry thought he could do, but he was feeling too relaxed to care at the moment. Snape surprised Harry by looking more un-Snape-like when he uncrossed his legs and spread them apart leaving room in front of him where he asked Harry to sit. The Gryffindor will never know what possessed him to do it, but he placed his tea cup down and crawled over to sit directly in front of Snape facing away from him. This reminded Harry of his first spinal tap after his diagnosis when Snape had to help hold his head down allowing Healer Smithe to perform the procedure. Now that he thought about it, Snape had been at all of those awful intrathecal chemotherapy treatments helping, not only to get the procedure completed, but also to help Harry through it.

Slowly, Harry leaned back until he was supported almost completely by Snape behind him. He naturally had the urge to close his eyes when he heard very slowly and quietly in his right ear,

"Keep your eyes closed and think about flying. When you're on a broom flying across the Quidditch pitch and then up and away from the castle. You can feel the cold air against your face, the warm sun on your back as you fly all alone... Now, imagine flying over a forest. The treetops are so dense you cannot see through it no matter how close you get to the canopy. The tree branches are laced together tightly to effectively hide everything below them. You can only see the bright blue sky standing out against the green treetops..."

Harry's breathing deepened until he wasn't even aware that he was now only focusing on the feeling of his breathing. As he pictured the elaborate scene his professor was drawing out for him in his mind, the emotions and thoughts that had been running rampant disappeared. The only thing he was aware of was his breathing, deeply in and out, the sounds surrounding him - the fireplace crackling and Snape's calming breaths in sync with his own - and the smell of the tea mixed with the other scents from the room around him he was never aware of until now - potion ingredients, parchment, books, and the fireplace.

He was not able to tell how much time had passed when he heard Snape whisper from behind him, "You did great Harry."

Opening his eyes, it was now almost dark in the room; the lanterns lit to only a fraction of their brightness. He was still sitting on the floor, legs crossed in front of Snape.

"I didn't do anything sir," he said moving forward and turning to meet the professor.

"You cleared your mind."

Did he hear the sound of pride in the man's voice?

"Really?" He asked, amazed that he managed to do what he had failed at previously. "Though it's not exactly convenient to go through all of that every time I need to clear my mind."

Snape held back a smirk, "It's definitely not, but the more you practice the easier it will get. Now, the first step - as outlined in chapter 2 - is to find the right approach to clearing your mind, which for you is flying. Then we can work on how to use that to build your Occlumency walls, which is the canopy. Eventually you won't need the... Theatrics to do any of it as it will come more naturally than the first couple of times."

Harry gave a skeptical glance towards Snape, "Flying huh? Seemed like a pretty lucky guess, don't you think?"

"I believe in making my own luck," Snape said confidently. "Flying is what finally worked for you in my old reality after about a half dozen failed attempts at it. I simply played the odds that you are fundamentally similar enough to use the same approach here. Not only that, during your bone marrow biopsy you may have mentioned flying while you were nervously waiting for it to start."

He couldn't help staring in awe; Snape had remembered that all this time?

"That's really sneaky Severus."

"No, that's called observant and, as I've said to you before, it has saved my life more times than you can even comprehend," the professor explained while he gradually brightened the lanterns so as not to blind their eyes. Both of them stood and Harry dusted off his jeans for some unknown reason.

"So did you use Legilimency?" Harry was nervous to ask this, but wanted to know since he didn't feel any of the same flashes as last year.

"Not at all," Snape said casually as he put the furniture back in place.

"Wait a minute," Harry said upset for some reason unknown to him, "why not? Wasn't that whole the point of this?"

Treading lightly with Harry's panic attack fresh in mind, the professor answered, "Because we already know what happened when you were pushed into it too quickly. Honestly, this was a fantastic outcome for the first session; much better than I expected."

"So then why the pensieve?"

With the room put back in place, Harry sat down on the sofa and the cup of tea was levitated over to him. He picked it up out of the air and took a sip; it was still as warm as if it were freshly poured. Snape sat down in his normal armchair.

"You needed to trust me," Snape said sincerely, meeting Harry's eyes, "and you could not do so while simultaneously trying to protect that which you were scared to re-live yourself.

"Also, by having you store those memories while seeing that I was choosing to trust you by not storing mine, it allowed you to again relax and trust that this was not going to be the same assault as last year."

Harry smiled; that warm feeling inside himself growing.

"So what's next?" Harry wanted to try as hard as he could to do this right and succeed this time.

"Keep practicing clearing your mind each night. Picture the forest below you, so thick that you can't see through it," Snape explained leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "That is where your emotions and memories will hide and then, when you're ready, we'll move onto an attempt to use Legilimency against you."

Harry was very aware that Snape did not use the word attack because he had made it obvious that was not how they were going to do things this time. Appreciation. He appreciated what this Snape was doing.

The rest of the night was spent discussing Snape's first day of teaching defense and specifically the rumors he had heard regarding Harry's absence, ranging anywhere from being locked in the dungeon of Voldemort's headquarters, to him being too embarrassed to show his face after the Department of Mysteries, and his favorite being locked up in St. Mungo's from losing his mind until he finally did away with his relatives himself.

Snape assigned him the same essay he gave the rest of the sixth years today, which he could work on tomorrow when Malfoy was tutoring him in the classes he missed. Finally, Snape restored his memories from the pensieve before he went back to his bedroom and got ready for bed.

It was when he was alone, dressed in a comfortable pair of blue flannel pyjamas, trying to fall asleep in bed that he was able to reflect on everything that had happened during Occlumency.

While he had known - even before Snape explained the whole realities thing - Snape was acting differently, tonight it was obvious that this Snape cared about Harry as if he were still his son. Even after all this time living in Snape's quarters, Harry had mixed feelings about the idea that the professor saw Harry as a son. It was easy to get confused in his own mind - yes, he obviously knew Snape thought about him that way, otherwise they wouldn't be here together in the first place - but he never considered how he felt about that fact.

I don't want to be Snape's son... right?

Of course I don't.

He was already 16 years old, he didn't need a parental figure in his life. Deep down though, in the place where he kept his deepest secret and biggest fears, he wanted one even if he would never admit it out loud to even himself. Wasn't that what all children wanted, needed really, no matter how old they get? Why else would he have been ready to move in with Sirius after only just meeting the man... a man he thought only a couple of hours earlier was a murderer and betrayed his parents?

He could feel the heavy grief covering him yet again, like a thick blanket wrapped tightly from his head to his feet, for the life he'd never lived. Harry didn't even know what it meant to have or be a parent, but he tried to imagine what it would be like to finally have someone put his needs first and take an interest in what he's doing or how he's feeling.

Harry fell asleep with only one thought going through his mind:

If all of that is what Snape has been doing this whole time, then what does that make us now?

~~~~HP~~~~

Tuesday morning Harry was generally in good spirits. The Occlumency, or clearing his mind, last night definitely helped him sleep the best he had in a long time.

As he got ready for his first actual day of classes, his mind kept wandering back to Snape and where this epiphany from last night left them. He recognized that their relationship - for lack of a better word - was changing by the day, but he had no idea what that really meant for either of them. After taking care of himself for so much of his life, and spending the majority of it being ignored, he was confused about both what he wanted and what he thought he could have. While his expectations of people - specifically the adults in his life - were low, he couldn't deny Snape had consistently gone far above and beyond what anyone else had ever done for him and Harry found himself wanting to work harder not to let the professor down.

Could this really be the start to finally having a parent?

Yes, Ron's parents were like his family, but they had always been Ron's parents. They would never feel like his own, possibly because they have their own kids. Was it wrong to want someone for himself? No, he settled on, it definitely was not wrong. He decided to table those thoughts for later.

Being that it was Tuesday and right in the middle between chemo rounds, he was finally feeling more like his old self - nausea was gone, pain was manageable with his daily medications, but his appetite still wasn't anywhere near normal; meaning now he had to eat because it was a necessity not because he was actually hungry. This was a side effect he'd discussed with Healer Smithe previously when he couldn't understand why he didn't want to eat when he wasn't nauseous after spending so much time sicking up his food. Again, he found himself hoping that the next phase - which should start next month - would be easier on his body before he started classes again.

Of course feeling like his old self also meant that - for better or worse - he had a clearer mind to handle the first tutoring sessions that happened to be with Malfoy. Why did it have to be Malfoy to start off his student-led tutoring? Surely he would have thought that after five years of pure animosity between the boys, Professor McGonagall would know having three hours worth of studying with Malfoy was a terrible idea.

How did she even get Snape to agree to it?

Not that it mattered much now. Today he was required to have an hour and half of Defense tutoring before lunch and another hour and half of Potions tutoring between the last class of the day and dinner. That was on top of a 2-hour Charms lesson after dinner with Professor Flitwick, which he was actually eager to start, even though it would be his first time seeing the professor since his diagnosis and he wouldn't be able to actually do any of the spells.

Last week, Snape had adjusted the wards to allow Malfoy to be allowed into the sitting room without the professor's physical presence; which he had to convince Harry would be fine because the door to Malfoy's temporary quarters was now gone. At least the blonde Slytherin would not be able to simply come and go whenever he pleased - he wasn't keyed into the wards which meant Harry still had to open the door for him - easing the Gryffindor's mind against the potential of getting kidnapped while sleeping and being taken straight to Voldemort.

Snape did not hide his opinion that he thought Harry was giving Malfoy too much credit because there was no way he'd be able to get Harry out of the castle without someone knowing about it and Harry would bet a lot of galleons Snape would be the first to know. However, while Snape probably knew more about Harry's escapades throughout the years than he wanted the man to, the Gryffindor doubted he knew all the details... After all, he had managed to get kidnapped from the Triwizard Tournament under the supervision of many grown adult wizards, so that didn't mean much in the long run. Still, even without Malfoy being able to up and kidnap him, it didn't make it any easier when a piece of parchment appeared in front of his face with Draco Malfoy written on it - right on time during Malfoy's free period before lunch.

"Malfoy," Harry greeted as he opened the door and his most hated peer was standing in his Slytherin robes in the hallway, school bag slung over his shoulder, and with an oddly neutral expression on his face. Harry had briefly considered dressing in his uniform that morning - he was technically in classes today - but instead opted for a red jumper and jeans deciding that if he was required to stay inside their quarters then he was exempt from the required uniform.

"Were you planning to let me in or are we having our lesson in the hallway today?" Draco called out pushing past Harry and in through the doorway.

"Do you always have to be so demanding?" Harry asked following Malfoy inside, closing the door with a hard slam, and immediately feeling defensive around the Slytherin. They were already bickering and they hadn't even opened a book yet.

"As a matter of fact I do," Malfoy exclaimed before his face contorted into that of disgust and amusement, "Should I feel honored that you actually got out of your pyjamas for me this time?"

Harry narrowed his eyes to match the scowl that was already in place on his face, holding in a growl. He was wrong, Professor McGonagall wasn't crazy for putting both of Malfoy's lessons on one day, she shouldn't have chosen him at all. Honestly, what was she thinking? Hermione could probably pass her NEWTs by now; she could have at least done the Potions lesson and he taught a defense class himself last year, so tutoring there wasn't really needed. Problem solved and it would have made this process infinitely easier.

"Go to hell Malfoy," Harry simply said walking into the sitting room behind the Slytherin and sitting ceremoniously onto the sofa.

The blonde dropped his bag next to the sitting room table and started removing his books, notes, parchment, and quills. Harry took notice how unbelievably organized Malfoy was compared to his own school bag that always seemed to have his books and parchment thrown in haphazardly and broken quills littering the bottom.

"Why the mood Potter? Not feeling up to my high standards of educational..." he trailed off, eyeing Harry's school supplies laid out on the table, "What's this?" He asked, picking up the muggle pen.

Harry couldn't help but laugh as Malfoy turned the pen over in his hands.

"It's a muggle pen," he said very slowly as if the other boy was hard of hearing, "it's like a quill that has the ink already inside of it.

"Also the reason why students raised by muggles have such a hard time writing with a quill for the first year," Harry still had a difficult time with quills, but he didn't want to say that to Malfoy. Along with magical transportation, it was one of his least favorite things about the magical world. Once he graduated and was on his own, he decided he would only be using self-inking quills; that was assuming he still had enough magic to live in the wizarding world to begin with.

Squinting his eyes as if in deep thought, Malfoy used the pen to make a line across the muggle paper, looking satisfied when the blue ink smoothly crossed the white paper. That time Harry couldn't contain his laugh at the blonde's expense.

"Interesting. And why do they have lines on their parchment?" There was a hint of curiosity in the other boy's voice as if muggles couldn't be completely useless if for nothing else then coming up with the concept of pens and paper.

Harry picked up his Defense book, Confronting the Faceless and started flipping through it, "So you can write in a straight line, why else would they have it? Are you done with all the questions?"

"Of course your highness. Did you do the assignment from yesterday?"

And just like that, they jumped into the lesson from Snape's class yesterday about non-verbal spells. They talked about the benefits of non-verbal spells and the theory of casting a spell nonverbally; it had a lot more parts to it than Harry thought there would be. He originally imagined that once he could use magic again, he would pick up the nonverbal spells pretty easily, but he was not so confident now. According to the textbook, it physically took more magic to do spells nonverbally - and more than that to do them wandlessly - and he wasn't even sure how much magic he would have by the end of all his treatments. Curiously though, living with Snape, he knew for a fact that he had seen the professor do both of those - nonverbal and wandless spells - simultaneously leading him to question how strong of a wizard Snape is. Could he win in a duel against Dumbledore? What about against Voldemort? He shivered at the thought of the latter, but secretly wished he could see it. Now that he thought more about it, the Order was lucky to have had Snape switch sides. Where would they be now if he had still been a full fledged Death Eater?

"You seem better today than you were over the summer," Malfoy commented casually when they were closing up their books, abruptly bringing Harry back into the present. It was almost lunchtime marking the end of their first session of the day and the year. "You look absolutely dreadful, but you don't act sick anymore."

Harry felt his heart rate increase instantly, as he was reminded of when Dudley would make casual conversations with him right after he started chemo. His heart was heavy with sorrow; missing his cousin and wondering how he was doing. The Gryffindor had no idea how to answer Malfoy, but he resisted the urge for a sarcastic remark only because for the first time in six years, Malfoy actually sounded sincere about something.

"Yeah," he went with, casually, "well, you caught me on a good day. You probably won't be here next Tuesday," Harry shuddered thinking about the 4 hour chemotherapy he'll be at this time next week. He'd found he really hated that set of medications the most.

"If you're feeling well, then why can't you go to classes? It seems like you know when you're going to be sick, so you could at least attend a few of them," Malfoy finished packing his bag, but didn't stand up as if to leave. Harry groaned inwardly not really wanting to have this conversation. Yes, he remembered Snape saying he should open up to people, but that absolutely did not mean Malfoy.

"For the most part it's pretty predictable," Harry conveniently didn't answer Malfoy's initial question. He didn't know what the Slytherin was fishing for, but he was not about to potentially hand over the fact that simply being near other people right now could kill him.

"So you can't even go to the Great Hall for meals? You're literally locked in here?" Malfoy asked, sounding appalled. Technically, he wasn't locked in, but he'd gone this far without any complications to his treatments and he really wanted to keep it that way.

"No, I definitely can't go to the Great Hall, but don't worry, the house elves do a good job keeping the prisoner well fed."

Malfoy actually laughed and Harry was sure the world was going to end immediately.

Instead, he was surprised even further when Malfoy asked, "Want some company for lunch?"

Harry literally almost choked; on what he didn't exactly know. Now he was sure the world was ending, but... if he were honest with himself, he was bored.

And I can use the company...

"...yeah, erm... that'd be great," he found himself replying almost automatically, as if his subconscious brain knew something his conscious brain did not.

I'm going to regret this, I know I will.

Both boys walked into the kitchen and Harry was paused when he saw two place settings at the table.

"That's scary," he commented as Malfoy took the far chair and place setting leaving Harry the one closest to the door.

"We live in a magical castle, what do you expect? Our food magically appears on the tables in the Great Hall. This is hardly complicated."

Yeah, but the food isn't listening to me.

Shaking his head from side to side, Harry sat down at the table. Lunch today was chicken salad sandwiches, probably one of the worst of Hogwarts lunches, but he was determined to eat while he could.

"So, who are you avoiding in the Great Hall? I doubt you wanted to stay for my charming company?" Harry asked, determined to take control of the conversation he was guaranteed to have at some point this afternoon; he wasn't lucky enough to get away with silence throughout the entire lunchtime.

"Who says I'm avoiding someone?" There was no malice in his statement which Harry took immediate notice to.

Harry squinted his eyes, "Is it a Slytherin requirement to answer a question with a question? Snape does that all the time and it's really annoying."

"Says the Gryffindor who just answered my question with a question," the blonde peered up at the ceiling dramatically contemplating what Harry had asked. "I never thought about that, but I guess it is a very common trait in our house; answer the question asked with the question you want answered instead. It's much easier to have a conversation that way."

"Says who? Then you never have anything to offer to the other person," the Gryffindor said thoughtfully, "eventually people will stop talking to you."

"Eh, I guess that depends on the person asking first," Malfoy half rolled his eyes, "And I'm not avoiding anyone. You looked bored imprisoned down here, and I can use some extra bonus points with the Order. What a better way to get them, than an endorsement from The Chosen One?"

Malfoy poured them both a glass of pumpkin juice, which Harry smelled skeptically before taking a tentative sip.

"I hate that title," Harry replied almost the instant his pumpkin juice cleared his throat, "so then this is just a means to an end? Not that I'm offended, I wouldn't expect anything less from the likes of you."

Placing his glass on the table, Malfoy smirked, "Now that's a Slytherin requirement; take care of yourself first because no one else is going to. I have a feeling you know more about that then you let on," Malfoy took a deep breath as if it was difficult for him to admit what he was about to say. "Alright, so maybe endorsement is too strong of a word, but if Boy-Who-Lived doesn't trust me and take me seriously, no one else will. So where does that leave me?"

Harry could feel himself getting defensive. He had the urge to hex Malfoy on the spot, but he found himself taking a deep breath instead; perfect practice for his Occlumency. He refused to let Malfoy get to him.

"Just because we have lunch together doesn't mean I trust you. It means I'm that so bored that talking to you is better than sitting here alone," Harry laid his head on the table, this was getting exhausting. "And for the record I hate that name too."

"You're just going around breaking all the cliches about you today," Malfoy paused watching Harry laying with head on the table, in a much more submissive position than he'd expect from his nemesis.

Harry lifted his head up to argue that he never claimed to like going by those names, but stopped at the sympathetic expression on Malfoy's face. The absolute last thing he needed was Malfoy pitying him.

"When do you get to go back to classes?" The Slytherin asked after they both finished their lunches, or Harry finished as much as he could force himself to, which Malfoy took note of.

The Gryffindor couldn't miss the genuine curiosity in the other boy's voice and he wondered if Malfoy had ever known someone with a serious illness before. He guessed not because wouldn't growing up in the wizarding world mean he had access to potions which could fix almost anything? Plus, as a pureblood he wouldn't know anything about muggle diseases.

"Whenever my healer says I can, but it probably won't be until around Halloween. There's certain... things that have to happen before it's ok to go back," Harry's voice cracked unwillingly at the thought of how long it still felt he had to go.

He could tell the Malfoy heir had other questions, but for whatever reason he didn't ask; an act Harry found himself grateful for. Instead, Malfoy nodded silently and walked into the sitting room to collect his things, told Harry he'd see him after classes that afternoon for their potions lesson and left. Harry was perplexed about the whole encounter. Yes, there was the normal banter between them, but overall it wasn't nearly as awful as he'd expected and Harry actually learned some things to help him on his assignment. He also found himself looking forward to their session that afternoon.

Harry had fallen asleep between lunch and his potion lesson with Malfoy and missed the first piece of parchment announcing his tutor's arrival. The second parchment landed right on top of his face, tickling his nose, which was by chance far the strangest way he'd ever been woken up.

"Morning sunshine," Malfoy said walking in through the doorway when Harry finally opened it to let the blonde in, "must be nice to sleep between classes."

"You're an arse, you know that?" The Gryffindor spat back. "How did you know I was asleep? Maybe I was studying?"

The blonde dropped his bag back onto the table in the sitting room and started pulling out his potions book and supplies. Obviously, Harry would only be studying theory with Malfoy, but the other boy had taken out a cauldron and several small phials.

Malfoy made a disgusted face at Harry and said, "You have lines smeared across your face."

Harry flushed and immediately reached up to cover his left cheek with his hand and scowled. Unfortunately, Malfoy was still setting up for their lesson and completely missed the effect.

"Let me go grab my things," Harry said as he was about to walk back to his bedroom to get his book, but just as he turned, the book came flying out from his bedroom, through the opened door, and into Harry's hands.

He always has to show off doesn't he?

He was going to say something to Malfoy about his "expertise in nonverbal magic" but the Slytherin was barely paying attention as he set up small scale models of what looked like common potions ingredients.

"What's that?" Malfoy asked after Harry sat down on the sofa, placing the old book onto the table. The Slytherin reached out for the book before Harry quickly snatched it away. "I always assumed your parents would have left you enough of the Potter fortune to actually get new books?"

"It's nothing," Harry said quickly; making the split second decision that he absolutely didn't want Malfoy to know about the contents of the book. He moved it to the other side of the table out of Malfoy's view, "Snape let me borrow it because Flourish and Blotts forgot to send one in my owl order."

"Seems a little old even for Professor Snape," The blonde commented, placing the last item from his bag onto the table.

"Are we actually going to be brewing today?" Harry asked, gesturing to the contents on the table in front of them.

"Merlin's no Potter," Malfoy exclaimed, "Do you really think Professor Snape would want you of all people brewing in his sitting room? Even I didn't think you were that stupid."

Gritting his teeth and trying, unsuccessfully, to use his Occlumency, the Gryffindor asked, "Then what is it?"

With a smug look to his face Malfoy said, "A practice potions kit. Almost all little wizards have one growing up, at least the intelligent ones do. Professor Snape arranged it for you to practice."

Harry hated to say he was intrigued by it, but the whole set up looked pretty cool to him. There was a cauldron in the center of the table with small scale versions of all the common ingredients - such as beetle eyes, dragon horns, and flobberworms - around the table in no particular order. Some of them looked as if they could be chopped, sliced, or skinned with the special tools that were also provided with the set.

"How does it work?" He tried to keep the amazement out his voice, but definitely did not succeed in it.

"Well," Malfoy said in a less condescending manner than Harry would have expected, "the cauldron is spelled to emit a special light based on the ingredients you place it at the specific intervals to mimic the brewing process.

"You select what heat level you want first, prepare your ingredients as you normally would, and then place them into the cauldron while stirring with the special stirring rod. The color of the light will change just as the color of your potion would if you were actually brewing it. The only thing you don't get is the consistency, but for this purpose, the color will show if you brewed it correctly."

Fine, that is brilliant. Maybe I can do all my potions this way?

~~~~SS~~~~

"Fudge flies," Severus said to the gargoyle protecting the Headmaster's office. The professor absolutely hated that Albus alway used sweets as his passwords because he felt like a fool saying the idiotic phrases in the hallway.

"Come in Severus," Albus called before the defense professor could even knock. He also hated when Albus knew he was there before he even knocked. His theory was that somehow the gargoyle alerted the Headmaster of the incoming visitors, but he had no proof of that yet.

"Lemon Drop?" The headmaster asked while sitting behind his desk filled to brim with parchment and open books.

Severus shook his head declining, as always, the offered sweet, wanting to get this done with. During his last class for the day he had received the note requesting an update and came up before heading to the Great Hall for dinner. It was the first day since Harry's diagnosis - besides the awful day of the Privet Drive attack - that he had been away this long yet and he had wanted to stop by his quarters before dinner. Unfortunately, that would not be happening now as he wouldn't have the time to get from the headmaster's office, down to the dungeons, and back.

"When questioned about the Dark Lord's well being," Severus jumped right in, "Draco did not mention anything about the Dark Lord being ill, on the contrary he was well enough to attend the raid where he took the two muggles as prisoners. This means either I'm incorrect about the transfer of Harry's Leukemia, he has someone brewing the necessary potions for him already, or it simply is progressing at a slower rate."

"You are very rarely wrong about these kinds of things Severus," Albus said standing up behind his desk. "As there is not much other choice in the matter, we shall have to wait to see which of those three options is correct. And was there a significance of the date?"

Severus didn't need any further explanation, "Yes, but Draco was not explicitly told the reason; only that it was not necessarily meant for maximum public display."

"So we likely have a leak amongst ourselves," Albus lifted his head suddenly. The implications of this were frightening and something Severus himself did not want to think too closely about.

"It appears so. More concerning is that with Draco at school, he won't be summoned as often to keep a good eye on the enemy and help identify this person. A big disadvantage to having a student in this type of position."

Severus was pacing; between Harry and Draco he was going to die an early death from the anxiety of it all. He didn't want Draco to be summoned, but right now he couldn't deny that it was in Harry's best interest for the blonde to not only be called, but to be called often. On second thought, Severus was brought back to his own Death Eater days and how even though he was one of the Dark Lord's inner circle, he was not privy to the fact that Peter Pettigrew had switched sides. Had he known, Lily would never have died; Albus would have moved the Potter's to a new location before the Fidelius could be compromised. Who's to say Draco would ever get close to this information?

"I would argue it's not so dissimilar to having a professor in that same position," Albus cautiously said watching his former spy come to that realization.

The professor in question was quiet while he considered this statement. He was not wrong, no matter how much Severus wanted him to be.

"At least when he does get summoned, it will likely be for a very good purpose," Severus explained hoping that he never had to find out what would be important enough to pull Draco from school for a summons.

The new Defense professor was being extremely careful about assigning detentions. Not only did he have a less detention-friendly classroom this year without the cauldrons to scrub, but he didn't want to add any extra unnecessary time away from Harry right now. He was sure there would be rumors about him losing his mind, but Severus didn't care one bit. Tonight however, he was already required to sit a detention that another professor assigned but could not - for some unknown reason that infuriated him - attend to, leaving him arriving back in his quarters at half past nine at night; a whole fourteen hours since he left that morning. It was days like these that he hated teaching.

When Severus first walked into his quarters, he stopped in his tracks and brandished his wand because the brightness of the lanterns throughout the room had been lowered. Years of being a paranoid spy had taught him to question every little change he encountered; for him that small change could be the difference in living or dying. Harry would have finished his lesson with Filius early enough to have needed the lanterns fully lit, so he doubted the Charms professor had done it magically before leaving.

"Homenum Revelio," Severus said and immediately put his wand away; Harry was the only other person here. He let out the breath he'd been holding, but his heart was still racing from the increased flow of adrenaline throughout his body.

Walking straight into his office, Severus dropped off the day's worth of summer assignments next to yesterday's lot. He had an extra free period tomorrow which he fully intended to use to get caught up on his marking; the second worst part of teaching, after dealing with whiny students. Still sorting through the lanterns debacle, he left the office and made his way to Harry's room feeling guilty for leaving the Gryffindor all alone on his first full day back to classes.

"Come in," he heard from the other side of the door when he knocked softly.

Harry was in his bed wearing a pair of green pyjamas, leaning up against the headboard with the notebook Severus had gotten for him for his birthday and appeared to be drawing. Harry lifted his head and met Severus's eyes and suddenly in front of the older wizard wasn't this version of Harry, but the one he'd left. It was as if for a split second, his Harry was back here, as if his Harry had chosen to do the chemotherapy instead of the potions and was now sketching in his bedroom waiting for his next round to start.

"You ok, Severus?" Harry asked, drawing the professor out of his memory.

"Yes," he replied, clearing his head. "I didn't realize you drew."

Harry clutched his notebook to his chest defensively, "I don't really... I mean, I used to do it a lot when I was in primary school, but not really since starting here. I just picked it up again recently; it helps pass the time." Harry was embarrassed to be admitting something that felt so personal to him even after everything they had been through together.

Severus walked into the room and - having picked up on Harry's feelings about his hobby - sat down at the end of Harry's bed, giving him privacy for his work.

"Your mother was an amazing artist," he wanted to talk about Lily; wanted to tell her son about the hobby they shared.

Harry's eyes lit up, "She was?!"

Severus couldn't hold back the smile; the fact that he could make the teen in front of him happy over such a simple statement. Unfortunately, it was quickly overshadowed by the fact that it was also a testament to the neglectful life he had lived. Harry literally knew nothing about his parents besides the small bits and pieces he'd managed to put together from the stories he heard from various sources. Severus wouldn't - or couldn't - give the Gryffindor anything about his dad, but he was probably the best person to talk to about his mum.

"Very much so," he closed his eyes falling back into the memories of sitting besides Lily while she sketched at the park in Cokeworth during the summer, out by the black lake in the fall, on a bench in Hogsmeade during the springtime, or simply in the Hogwarts courtyard in the dead of winter getting all covered in snow; her Gryffindor scarf wrapped tightly to keep her warm. She always had a sketch book and her art supplies in her bag just in case her inspiration struck at the oddest of times. Of course, all of that was before the incident in their fifth year, but he wasn't going to think about that now. Now was a time to help Harry connect with the mother he never got a chance to really know.

"Not only was she always sketching or painting," the professor continued, Harry hanging on his every word, "she could spend the entire Charms class drawing Professor Flitwick and whatever object he was using for that day's demonstration and then turn around and perform the spell perfectly. It could be quite annoying at times."

Harry looked down at the notebook, a far away expression on his face that Severus knew was him recognizing that he shared something tangible with his mother. Even though he could not remember her and even though she was not here with him, he now had something that tied himself to her outside of her sacrifice for him.

"You really liked my mum didn't you?"

Severus expected a lot of different questions from Harry, but that had not been one. He could feel himself getting defensive, but slowly breathed through the panic. This was ok, he was going to be ok.

"As I said before, Lily was my best friend for the longest time, of course I liked her," it might not have been the whole truth, but it was the truth nonetheless.

"Back at Privet Drive, you sent Dumbledore a patronus..." Harry paused as if he were composing himself then added, "it was a doe."

"Yes, my patronus is a doe," he confirmed, but he was not going to lead Harry to the conclusion he knew the Gryffindor had already gotten to himself.

"My mother's patronus was a doe as well?"

The professor automatically put up his Occlumency walls. Yes he talked about Lily all the time with Harry in his old life, but it's been a while since he's discussed their relationship for the first time.

Severus nodded, "I believe your mother's patronus was doe as well."

"That's curious, isn't it sir?"

"Not at all." He let the statement stand on its own and Harry could interpret that whichever way he wanted. The Gryffindor wasn't stupid, no matter what the Severus of this reality originally thought; Harry could tell what his feelings were.

"I apologize I'm so late today," the professor changed the subject, "it seemed that I was destined to be away as someone or something always came up."

"S'ok, " Harry shrugged, "That is your job first, so I get it. I was fine here."

Severus thought about what Harry had just said; his job was first.

No child, you will always be my first priority.

But he dare not say that to the small teenager in front of him. As much as he wanted to, the trust they've built was still so delicate and he would not risk losing it now.

"Have you practiced your Occlumency?"

Harry nodded and pride swelled up within the professor, this time Harry was taking things seriously which could be a turning point to their relationship. These lessons could be his chance to really alter how Harry perceived him. Maybe they could start to rewrite some of their past as they moved into their future.

"How were your lessons today? My quarters still stand, so you're already better than I anticipated."

Harry laughed, "They were fine. I'm pretty sure Professor Flitwick thought he would get hexed the moment he stepped foot in here though. He kept looking around skeptically before I was able to convince him to come in."

"I cannot imagine why he would think such a thing," he replied smugly, "And your lessons with Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry placed his notebook next to himself on the bed and wrung his hands nervously, "It was actually ok... or as much as it can be with Malfoy."

"I know it's going to be challenging," Severus explained, "but trust that Professor McGonagall selected the best options for your classes. If everything goes smoothly, you shouldn't have any issues rejoining classes by Halloween."

For the second time that night, Harry's face lit up.

"Get some rest," the professor finally said, "you need your strength for this weekend."

He paused at the door watching Harry - who was oblivious to the professor standing there - draw in his notebook and he imagined what it would be like to have both Lily and his Harry back. Of course, those two would never be able to coexist; he would never have had Harry if Lily had lived. Quietly, he closed Harry's door and proceeded down the hallway to his bedroom.

When Severus was finally in his bedroom, ready to put the long day behind him, he remembered the lanterns. Harry had likely done accidental magic to lower them, something that happened almost daily now. Thinking back over all the occurrences, it was different than the typical accidental magic from young wizards; summoning something from the other room when he needed it, filling his glass of water when it was empty, healing a bruise he didn't even know he had gotten. Harry may not be aware that it occurred, but it was always something that was relevant to Harry's situation, not necessarily during an emotional state, and almost as if it were done intentionally, but unknowingly.

That's it; he's unknowingly doing controlled magic.

It was yet another piece of the puzzle to discuss with Alton. If Harry's magical core was depleting - albeit, he admitted, at an unknown rate - how can he be doing nonverbal and wandless magic without even knowing it? And the big unknown was, how much faster will this deplete that magic?

~~~~HP~~~~

Wednesday came and went without much fanfare. Harry had double sessions with Hermione for Transfiguration and Charms and then Herbology with Professor Sprout. While Herbology technically doesn't have much magic to it, he was still limited to theory only, as Professor Sprout was not permitted to bring any plant materials with her due to the possibility of germ exposure. If Harry thought Herbology was difficult in the greenhouse with all the plants there in front of him, it was even more so strictly reading from his textbook or the small scale models she brought. He really hoped his tutoring with Neville would help bridge that gap.

Snape brought Ron by before dinner, since Hermione was already there for their Charms session, and he was beyond relieved to have company during the meal. Being well enough to get up and function made him completely stir crazy within the quarters and being alone during it was pure torture.

"Are you sure these Occlumency lessons are a good idea?" Ron asked tentatively after Harry explained how well the first season went on Monday. "If something happens this time, you'll be stuck down here with him. It'll be kind of hard to ignore each other at that point."

Harry had thought about what would happen should something like last year occur, but he didn't feel like it would be such a big deal anymore. Harry and Snape were comfortable around each other and the Gryffindor actually wanted to do well in it this time.

"I don't think we're going to have any issues like that," Harry reassured his friend. This was getting too close to the topic that caused their muggle fist fight and he wanted to steer away from that. "I'm telling you, you need to trust me on this one."

"I always trust you Harry," Ron said laughing with a mouthful of bread, "that's how we manage to get into so much trouble every year."

Hermione laughed as well as she said, "Between the two of you, I don't know how you both haven't been expelled yet."

"Being the Boy-Who-Lived has its advantages," Ron predictably replied and Harry cringed. He absolutely hated that title and he hated being reminded how much Ron actually was envious of him for it. What kind of person wanted to be known for not getting murdered?

"How are classes?" Harry asked, not only because he needed to change the subject, but he was genuinely curious how things were going.

"Great," Hermione said at the same time Ron said, "Awful."

Harry smiled at his two best friends and how different they were. Somehow they all managed to balance each other out and he was so grateful to have them there with him through everything.

Ignoring Hermione, Ron continued, "It's boring without you Mate. Seriously, Snape hasn't given a single detention and even Malfoy has been quiet in class... Potions was down-right peaceful without you or Neville around. "

"You do not mean that!" Hermione yelled hitting Ron across his upper arm for each word she yelled. "We miss you Harry, no matter how peaceful Ronald makes classes sound."

Harry knew it was all in fun and didn't take what Ron had said to heart. What he did take extra notice of was Malfoy's change in behavior. If the Gryffindor's are noticing something, that was a big deal. He thought back to their strange lunch yesterday, trying to sort through the details in his head. Harry was lost in his thoughts and didn't hear his friends until Hermione mentioned Bill Weasley.

"I saw Bill roaming the halls today," Hermione said, bringing his thoughts back to his two friends. "Has he figured out how to break the curse yet?"

Ron had a sad look on his face and Harry couldn't stop the guilt from crawling back into him and settling on his chest.

"I think so," Ron said seriously. "The last attempt didn't do anything, but he's really confident on this next one. I guess he needed one last piece of something or other and Snape, of all people, was able to get it for him."

"How did Snape help? " Harry asked almost too quickly to sound casual. Had Snape been going back to Death Eater meetings? Or was it actually Malfoy who got the information for Snape? That latter sounded more logical, but he hated Malfoy being involved in anything that had to do with helping Ginny.

"Not sure," Ron said curiously, "just that mum said he had the last piece they needed and hopefully the next try will work. I've learned to mind my own business when it comes to Snape."

"How is she?" Harry asked, choosing to ignore the last comment from Ron about Snape. He hadn't seen Ginny since the fight with Ron which was too long ago.

"I mean, besides still unconscious she seems ok," the redhead explained, "She's going to be pissed when she wakes up though; just knowing one of them took her down and for so long. I wouldn't want to be anywhere near the hospital wing when she finds out."

Harry laughed again; that was Ginny. She reminded Harry of how Snape described his mum. She was feisty, never turned away from a challenge, and loyal to the end.

~~~~SS~~~~

Friday started out bad. As Harry liked to say, Severus wasn't one to sugar coat things, but even if he wanted to for this, he wouldn't be able to.

It was in the early morning hours of Friday when he awoke to an intense burning on his left forearm. It was instantly clear that this was not a normal summons as the burning was so ferociously intense it brought tears to the former Death Eater's eyes. Instead it was a way to torture the man second only to Harry on the Dark Lord's intent to kill list; a message that said even if he's not standing in front of his old Lord the man still had control over Severus. So it was on his last night to get a good night's sleep before Harry's next round of chemotherapy, that Severus found himself awake in his office continuously charming a bandage on his arm since; the newest version of burn paste having stopped working long ago.

The mark continued to burn through his first three classes - all of which were simply given review time to complete assignments - and most of the way through lunch. He gave an audible sigh of relief when it finally ended right as he gave up every attempt to eat. It had been, by far, his worst burn yet and suddenly working on a new pain and burn salve jumped to the top of his things to do list.

Unfortunately it would have to wait. Harry started his second month of consolidation chemotherapy tomorrow and tonight he had already made arrangements to have Draco over for dinner to go over his plan for disassembling the future Death Eater recruits from within their own house. He considered rescheduling the dinner with Draco to next Friday, but there was no guarantee this wouldn't happen again next week. For all he knew, the Dark Lord could torture him through his dark mark every day if he wanted to. That thought alone was absolutely terrifying and enough to want to kill the bastard immediately.

He walked into his quarters after, his open office hours, before suppertime to an empty sitting room. Harry should have been having his Charms tutoring with Hermoine, most of which had been done in the sitting room. Curiously, he walked over to Harry's bedroom, where the door was closed, but he couldn't hear anything on the other side of the door.

Taking a deep breath, unsure of what he would find, he knocked and waited for one of the occupants to say something. After waiting what he took as an appropriate amount of time, when no answer came, he opened the door.

Instead of finding Harry and Hermoine studying, he found Harry sprawled across the bed fast asleep and the rest of the room empty. The small teenager appeared so innocent while unexpectedly sleeping above the bedspread, in his jeans and blue long sleeved t-shirt and thick wool socks.

The professor hated having to wake him up, because his body needed all the rest he could get, but Harry had Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall after dinner and he needed to eat today before he started chemotherapy again tomorrow. He sat gently on the bed next to Harry torn with what he wanted to do and what he had to do.

"Harry?" Severus called out while gently shaking the Gryffindor's shoulder taking note of the skeletal feeling beneath his hand.

"...wha..." Harry slowly opened his eyes, rubbing them sharply and yawning. This time Harry woke up much calmer, which hopefully meant he was starting to feel more comfortable in his home.

"Good evening," the professor said, trying not to sound too smug about finding out Harry was sleeping instead of studying. "I hope Miss. Granger wasn't too boring. I'm sure we can find an alternate tutor for your Charms class, but I have a feeling the next best student would be Mr. Malfoy again."

"Oh, bug off," Harry smiled while sitting up and lightly punching Severus on the shoulder. "We finished early and I had some time before dinner. What are you doing here? I thought you would eat in the Great Hall tonight."

Noticing Harry squinting as he spoke, Severus reached over to grab Harry's glasses thinking about how much Harry looked like Lily without them. If Harry had not needed his glasses, would Severus have seen Harry for himself instead of James on that first day of class? Knowing where he was in his life back then he doubted it, but the question remained in his mind.

"I've arranged for dinner here tonight with you," he said, handing the pair of glasses to Harry. Suddenly a piece of parchment popped up in front of his face with Draco Malfoy written on it and Severus stood to go to the door. "I expect you at dinner in five minutes."

"Are we having company?" Harry sounded both intrigued and amused, which was good because he wasn't sure how to break the news to the Gryffindor especially first thing after waking up.

"Yes, now get ready for dinner," he simply called over his shoulder heading to the front door as if this were any other night instead of a strategic wartime meeting. Severus shook his head as he opened the door.

Why did I think this would be a good idea?

"Good evening Draco," he greeted his Slytherin, motioning for him to come inside. Draco had obviously stopped by the Slytherin common room before coming over as he no longer had his school robes or customary school bag with him.

"Evening professor," the blonde called walking into the room for the second time that day as he had potions tutoring with Harry that morning. Draco froze with what anyone else would interpret as a scowl, but Severus knew - after knowing the Slytherin his whole life - it was not genuine, "Hello Potter, are you joining us for dinner?"

Harry gave a hard, frustrated sigh, "Actually, seeing as you're in our quarters, I think you're joining us."

Severus closed his eyes, willing himself for patience tonight. Turning to the Gryffindor, he replied, "Both of you to the kitchen. All I ask is neither of you cause any problems tonight."

As it had been all week with term officially back in session, the table was preset with three place settings and dinner served family style just like in the Great Hall. Once the three occupants had their plates filled with food, Severus having to add extra to Harry's plate to encourage him to eat more, embarrassing the young Gryffindor at the same time, the professor started what he hoped would be a productive conversation.

"How was your first week back to classes?" He asked as if it were natural to have the two sworn enemies at his kitchen table discussing their first week of school.

"Quiet," Draco said at the same time Harry said "Fine." Both teens watched each other warily.

The awkward silence was deafening as neither boy wanted to elaborate and the tension was rising by the second. Would these two ever see just how alike they were even when though they are obviously so different at the same time? Both were confident, stubborn, and stood up for what he believed to be true. The rest of the world could learn from watching them; about how a single point of view could blind you from seeing the bigger picture. These two were so set on hating each other, neither could see the unique viewpoint the other could provide.

"How do either of you suggest we try to influence the potential Death Eater recruits within Hogwarts away from the Dark Lord?" He decided to just jump right in and was rewarded with the shocked stares from both boys at the table. As an afterthought he added, "Specifically the Slytherins."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, clearly confused.

"The Headmaster has agreed to let Draco," Severus ignored Harry's obvious glare at the blonde, "discuss the requirements and realistic aspects of being a Death Eater in an attempt to prevent future recruits from joining the Dark Lord."

Harry looked impressed and Severus didn't doubt that had Draco recommended it, the Gryffindor would have found some way to complain about it.

"You mean about living a life of servitude and slavery," Draco muttered sounding a bit disgusted with himself; another good sign overall, but Severus hated it had to come down to this to wake the blonde up.

"Precisely," the professor continued taking a bite of carrots and keeping watch over what Harry was actually eating, "I need to figure out the best course of action for this endeavor."

"Why are you asking me?" Harry said, frustratingly pushing his food across his plate.

Severus questioned to himself how much Harry had eaten while no one was here to watch him. If he wouldn't eat now, he would have to get creative during the next two weeks of chemotherapy. Standing up to make Harry a smoothie to help supplement his soon to be missed dinner, he noticed a Draco keeping a keen eye on both of them. He was proud to see the observational skill put to work. If he did this for something as seemingly innocent as dinner, then he'd be able to do it when he was summoned.

"Because I think you can provide a good perspective of-"

"That's bollocks," Draco interrupted, slamming his fist into the table. "You don't trust me!"

Not this again!

"If I didn't trust you," Severus growled trying to keep his voice even but failing miserably, "you wouldn't be here, you'd still be locked up with Moody. You're playing a long-term strategy game Draco, you have to stop thinking about what's right in front of you. You need to be thinking five steps ahead now and tomorrow you need to be ten steps ahead. I think it's high time you both realize that by working together you can actually do something to win this war, which is more than most other 16-year olds can say."

He was so focused on Draco, that he didn't see Harry right away, but when he turned to address the Gryffindor he saw that Harry had his left hand covering his scar with blood dripping around his fingers; his jaw clenched and his eyes closed tightly. Summoning a towel and soaking it with an Aguamenti he placed it over Harry's hand; the teen was not at all coherent to what was going on around him, only groaning every few seconds.

Severus knew that this had to be a vision. Having never actually seen Harry have a vision before, he wasn't sure what to do, but this was now something he was determined to stop from ever happening again. It looked fat worse than his dark mark burning, and if the Dark Lord wanted to, he could also terrorize Harry in the same manner - any time he wanted.

"What's going on?" Draco asked standing up besides Severus.

"Stand out of the way; get behind him," he pushed Draco, a little harder than he'd expected, but he wasn't sure if Voldemort could see through Harry or not during the visions and he didn't want to risk exposing Draco. "NOW!"

That got Draco moving and the blonde quickly ran to the other side of the room out of Harry's potential vision. He was wringing his hands - which had now become his sign of stress - and he appeared as if he wanted to help and run away at the same time.

"Harry," Severus shook Harry's chin from side to side, trying to get his attention, unsure if he would snap out of it by doing so. Harry kept trying to lay his head on the table, so Severus carefully lifted Harry off the chair - trying to ignore how light he now was - and laid him onto the floor where he twisted and turned in pain; scar still bleeding down his face.

"Harry, if you can hear me, you need to Occlude," the professor tried again, but he knew it was futile, they hadn't talked about how to use his canopy yet. Harry was smart enough to have figured it out on his own, however with a dark force like Voldemort in his head he doubted if it would work without prior practice.

After what felt like an agonizingly long time waiting in silence - only Harry's moaning and Draco's pacing echoing off the stone walls - Harry gasped and opened his eyes wide. Severus peered down into those emerald eyes he knew so well and saw fear within them followed instantly by anger.

"You knew... You... You knew!" Harry sat up swatting Severus's hand away from his face, the blood now leaking down the side of his eyes. Harry whipped around, eyes scanning the room until they landed on Draco and he lunged forward towards the blonde Slytherin.

"What the hell did you do to him?!" Harry called out; his voice cracking. In his weakened state, he didn't stand a chance against Severus's strong hold as the professor wrapped his arms around the small teenager.

"What is he talking about?" Draco called towards Severus as the professor deposited Harry back down into the chair.

Both student and professor were panting; Harry had more fight in him than Severus would have expected.

"I saw it..." Harry called out and tried to get back up towards Draco, "I saw what you did! You practically killed him! You tried to kill him... Twice! Can you imagine how scared he had to be? Or maybe you thought he'd be relieved because dying had to be better than what you were doing to him!"

Charlie Weasley. Harry saw what had happened the night of Draco's initiation. Which means he also figured out...

"And you knew," Harry had exhausted himself from trying to escape Severus's grasp and now sounded defeated; he sounded betrayed. "You knew for what... A whole week! And you didn't tell me?"

The hurt in Harry's voice cut through Severus's chest. It had been long enough since the murder, he never saw this coming. Why would the Dark Lord show him all of that? It was obviously intended to distress Harry, which of course it had.

"Harry..." Severus called out, but it was too late. The Gryffindor was swiping away the tears and no one in that room would blame him for crying; they understood what he saw was horrifying. "Harry, please listen to me."

"No," Harry said defiantly and furious, "let go of me. Right now!"

The professor didn't have to be told twice; holding onto Harry would only cause him more damage in the long run both physically and emotionally. The second he let go of Harry, the young wizard took off to his bedroom and expectedly the door slammed behind him.

Draco appeared just as shaken up as Harry had been. Severus was sure he was reliving his initiation and what he'd done to Charlie Weasley. The professor walked over to the counter to try and get some control over himself, holding on tightly to the edge as if he'd fall to the ground if he dared to let go. Using as much of his Occlumency as he could, he took a cleansing breath, looking up to see the smoothie sitting there, mocking him about not only how normal this night started, but that Harry had not eaten tonight. He picked up the glass and threw it into the sink shattering it and causing Draco to jump at the sharp sound across the room.

"What the hell was that? How could he know what happened that night?" Draco's voice was shaky and panicked almost like if someone else in the castle knew what he had done that night, it would unravel him.

Making a calculated decision, Severus rubbed his forehead and said, "He has a mental connection with the Dark Lord... and on occasion gets visions from him. His scar will hurt, or sometimes bleed when it happens as it did tonight."

He expected the blonde Slytherin to rant and scream, he even would have expected him to laugh and mock Harry. What he didn't expect, but should have by now, was the look of horror on his face. The look of realization that the person he'd been bullying for the last five years was not at all who he'd thought he was. Severus was sure Draco was thinking back to all the times he had called Harry scarhead and that now it has a whole new meaning.

A piece of parchment landed in front of his face with Minerva McGonagall written neatly across the top. Harry would not be in any condition to study tonight.

"Go to my office," he told Draco, "I'll be right there and we'll discuss how to proceed with speaking to the other Slytherins about your new position."

For once, Draco didn't say a word; he simply nodded and walked out. Before answering the door to his colleague, he walked over to Harry's room and tried to knock. There was no sound from either inside the room or from his knocking. Rubbing the back of his neck, he tried turning the door knob to no avail. In a last effort, he pulled out his wand, but no matter what spells he tried, it wouldn't budge. Harry had silenced the door and warded it locked, most likely unintentionally.

Sighing, he decided to let Harry cool down for the night. He would simply have to tell Minerva they would need to find a time to make up the lesson. Then he could get Draco started with his internal mission to see if, and how many, students he could save from meeting the same fate as Draco had with Charlie Weasley. Tomorrow he would fix things with Harry and of course - to add insult to injury - it had to be his long chemotherapy day.

~~~~AU SS~~~~

Severus was not looking forward to this meal whatsoever. He had done a lot of horrific things in his life and yet telling Harry he had revoked his permission slip to go to Hogsmeade was proving to be just as awful as any of them.

It was the Wednesday before what should have been Harry's very first Hogsmeade weekend at Hogwarts, however with Sirius Black still on the loose, he didn't feel it would be safe for his 13-year old son to be off of the school grounds essentially unsupervised. To break the news, he had invited Harry for dinner in their quarters in hopes of lessening the expected explosive response.

"Harry," he started carefully once they'd made it halfway through dinner and a handful of other innocuous topics, "there's something we need to discuss."

Picking up on the ominous atmosphere that spread throughout the room, Harry audibly swallowed his food and asked, "What's going on Severus?"

"I've informed Professor McGonagall that I need to rescind my permission for you to go to Hogsmeade until further notice."

There was a split second where he knew Harry hadn't fully understood what he had said or the implications of it, but once that moment passed the Gryffindor was furious.

"You can't do that!" Harry yelled expectantly.

Severus tried to remain calm. While there were many times he and Harry did not see eye-to-eye on certain issues - such as his choice of electives for this year - they very rarely had explosive arguments.

"Actually, I absolutely can do exactly that. It's my responsibility to look out for your best interest and safety," the professor calmly explained.

"What do you think is realistically going to happen?!" Harry tried arguing from a different angle, "It's not like no one will notice an escaped convict roaming around Hogsmeade! He won't be able to get to me!"

"I can think of probably at least a half dozen different ways someone could easily get you undetected from Hogsmeade."

Harry didn't know that Severus was hesitant to sign the permission slip in the first place exactly for those specific reasons. In the end, he had decided Harry could not live his life in constant fear, so he had signed it. Now through, Black was getting too close and while Severus didn't think the man was smart enough to have considered even a fraction of the ways Severus thought to get to Harry, the fact was he had been smart enough to escape Azkaban in the first place so he couldn't be completely dismissed. There was also the Lupin connection to consider and though he couldn't prove it, it seemed too coincidental that the year the werewolf was hired as a defense teacher is the same year Black was out looking for Harry. Severus did not believe in consequences.

"That's not fair!" Harry yelled while standing up from the kitchen table and starting to pace; a habit he had clearly picked up from Severus in the past year and a half.

"I happen to consider your life a bit more important than a trip to Hogsmeade," Severus rationalized to the irate teenager. "Plus, you've been to Hogsmeade plenty of times with me previously."

Each year before school commenced - specifically from the Christmas and Easter holidays - Severus had taken a quick trip to Hogsmeade to visit the local apothecary and restock his potions inventory. Last year, Harry accompanied him on both occasions. Unlike his classmates, this would not be Harry's first time visiting the village, but his first time on the school sanctioned trip.

"It's not just about getting to go to Hogsmeade and you know it," Harry accused, still angry with Severus.

"Of course I know that. Which is why I didn't even try to compromise by offering to attend as your chaperone."

The professor almost laughed at Harry's horrified face. No matter how comfortable they had become with each other, Harry's friend's - specifically Neville Longbottom for good reasons - were still skittish around the professor.

"Whatever," Harry said, the one word that irked Severus more than anything else, while sitting back down to finish his dinner, face still scowling. The rest of dinner was eaten in complete silence.

By Saturday afternoon - and the day of the Hogsmeade trip - Harry still had not spoken a single word to Severus, except to grudgingly answer questions in Potions class. Even the detention the Gryffindor earned earlier in the week was served on Friday night in complete silence. While Severus enjoyed how clean his cauldrons had gotten from Harry's angry cleaning, he would have preferred to have his son speaking to him. It was the longest they'd gone angry with each other.

Severus was in the sitting room marking papers when he heard the door to their quarters open.

"Everything alright?" He called out not even lifting his head, knowing it had to be Harry; he'd likely followed the professor after seeing each other when he stopped by Lupin's office to deliver the Wolfsbane potion. Not only that, outside of Harry, Albus and Poppy were the only other people who had access to enter his quarters, but neither would enter unannounced unless there was an emergency.

Harry walked sullenly into the room and flopped onto the sofa. He was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and his red Gryffindor jumper.

"I'm sorry Severus," the teen said quietly.

Lifting his head, the professor met Harry's emerald eyes and could see the sincerity within them, but stayed silent.

"I know you are trying to keep me safe. Ron, Fred, and George all said Mrs. Weasley almost did the same thing for them this year. I guess it's what parents do." Harry paused then added, "I shouldn't have acted the way I did.

"Apology accepted," Severus placed the essay on Polyjuice Potion he was marking onto the table in front of him. He leaned over with his arms resting on his knees facing his son, "And Harry... Even when you can't see it or understand it, I am trying to keep you safe... Always."

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry tossed and turned all night, dreaming of the vision he had during dinner with Snape and Malfoy.

In the forest, everyone was in a tight circle around their prisoner. The only light came from the torches surrounding them, casting a scary orange glow and long shadows over the tattered body. The Dark Lord sat on a raised dais overlooking his followers who were all dressed in black with their masks in place; all except their newest recruit, his grey eyes frantically searching around him...

Harry twitched in his bed trying to escape from what he knew was coming up.

"Today we add an important member to our ranks," The Dark Lord laughed, calling the blonde forward. The teen appeared arrogant, something that would be rectified quickly.

Harry's heart rate increased and his breathing became shallow as sweat started beading up across his body. His focus was on the redhead in the middle of the circle as a variety of curses and hexes were being thrown at him, each more damaging then the last.

"Incarcerous!" So he couldn't even attempt to fight back.

"...confringo..."

"Diffindo..."

" Cruico!"

" Incendio... incendio duo."

" Cruico!"

Harry wanted it to end. He wanted to wake up, knowing it was a nightmare from the vision. This had already happened and, no matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to save the man.

"It is time Draco," he heard Voldemort call. "Kill him."

"...Avada Kedavra!" But nothing happened. Malfoy's wand hand started to shake.

"Again," the evil voice of Voldemort rang through the laughter of his followers after Malfoy's failed killing curse.

Adjusting his stance and lifting his wand higher, the blonde Slytherin called out again, "Avada Kedavra!"

Still, there was no green light emitted from the end of his Hawthorne wand. His eyes were full of fear after his two failed attempts to kill his target.

In his bed Harry was screaming, but no one could hear him because of his well casted unintentional silencing spell. He was all alone.

"Approach Draco," the evil dark wizard called. The other Death Eaters went silent; only the crunching of the failed teen's steps through the forest could be heard. He stood confident in front of the Dark Lord and then bowed to kiss the hem of his robes.

"Cruico!" Voldemort casted, hitting Malfoy with his first ever Cruciatus curse. Malfoy fell to the ground writhing in pain trying to hold onto his dignity, but in the end his screams were loud and strained.

"Stand," demanded the serpentine wizard. Still trembling, the blonde Slytherin stood with a surprising air of confidence around him. Voldemort then pointed his wand towards the teenage Slytherin who closed his eyes in preparation of another Cruciatus curse.

"Avada Kedavra!" A green light shot out of the dark wizard's wand, over Malfoy's shoulder, and landed squarely on Charlie Weasley's chest.

Voldemort then grasped Malfoy's left arm and slashed open the sleeve, not bothered at all by the blood seeping from the long cut he'd also made in the blonde's arm. Placing the tip of his yew wand to the pale, bloody forearm of Draco Malfoy, his sinister smile could be seen by all the moment the dark mark appeared, marking his newest follower.

"Welcome to our ranks Draco Malfoy!"

Harry bolted upright and immediately ran to the lavatory just in time as he tried to expel whatever he could into the loo, but having missed dinner because of the vision, only the acid bile left in his otherwise empty stomach came out. Shaking, he leaned back against the bathtub trying to calm his breathing so he would not vomit again. He'd have enough of that to deal with later today. Somehow revisiting the vision in his nightmare seemed more vivid than when he had seen it originally the night before.

Once he had some control over himself and his stomach was no longer cramping, he slowly made his way to his bedroom where he fell back into his bed. The clock showed it was already almost seven in the morning, but he felt completely drained. Between the vision, realizing that Malfoy contributed directly to Charlie's death - even if he didn't cast the final killing curse - and the fact that Snape knew the whole time between the initiation and when Charlie's body was found, he felt like he was losing control of himself. It was simply too much for him to try to process through.

Healer Smithe would be arriving at eight, which gave the Gryffindor over an hour to wait out before his arrival and the awful restart of chemotherapy. The absolute last thing he wanted to do today was restart his two hell weeks of treatments, but he summoned all the resolve he could and got back out of bed to get ready. Grabbing his favorite pair of pyjamas, which he specifically left unused for today, he went to take a shower knowing it was likely the last chance to easily take one for at least the next couple of days.

He walked quietly into the bathroom so Snape would not know he was awake yet, and saw his reflection in the mirror. During the last two weeks, even though he wasn't nauseous as often because he only had chemo on Saturdays, he also wasn't necessarily eating any more in quantity of food or more often and it was definitely showing. He had no idea how much he currently weighed - and didn't want to find out - but it had to be far lower than what was healthy for his age and height. The body staring back at him was skeletal and drawn, looking almost nothing like him at all. His eyes seemed permanently marked with his exhaustion - sunken in and dull with dark circles underneath like shadows that never went away. Turning away from the reflection he barely recognized, he went to shower.

With only fifteen minutes to spare before his healer arrived, Harry quietly walked to the kitchen, happy to see no indication of Snape anywhere. Upon entering the kitchen, there was a bowl of porridge with fruit and granola - his usual pre-chemo breakfast - a glass of orange juice along with a glass of water, and the small cup of his morning medication. With all of that was a note:

Harry,

I was needed early this morning in the hospital wing and will likely be there until this afternoon. Professor McGonagall will be here before Healer Smithe arrives.

Be sure to eat well this morning as you did not eat any dinner last night.

S.S.

Harry crumpled the letter and sat down to start eating. In the end he was getting pawned off to Professor McGonagall; of course Snape's note said he was needed in the hospital wing so he guessed that was a good reason for the sudden change, but it still didn't help his sour mood. Maybe it had to do with Ginny? What if something bad happened to her last night? He didn't think he could handle much more, between the vision, the nightmare, his current unsure feelings about Snape, and starting the two long weeks of chemotherapy today; it just never seemed to end.

"Harry?"

The young wizard was finishing up his breakfast when he heard Professor McGonagall call out to him having just arrived through the floo. It was almost time.

"In the kitchen," he said but he was sure she could not have heard him given how raw his voice sounded.

Whether she could hear him or not, his transfiguration professor and current guardian eventually found him a few moments later, walking into the kitchen in her normal green robes and her hair tied neatly up in a tight bun. She had a sympathetic face which told him she knew today was going to be a bad one.

"There you are," she lectured. "Professor Snape asked that I stop by for your treatments this morning as he is needed at the hospital wing."

"Yeah," Harry mumbled holding up the crumpled paper, "I saw that. Is it Ginny?"

Not that the professor was likely to tell him the truth, but before she could reply, the floo roared to life again announcing the arrival of Healer Smithe.

"We'll talk about this later Harry," Professor McGonagall said reassuringly, "Let's get you started."

This would be the first time his Head of House would be overseeing the start of his actual treatment and Harry couldn't help feeling embarrassed over it. Snape was still needed to help hold Harry still during the Intrathecal procedure and now that would fall to the transfiguration professor. Perhaps he could just try harder to sit still for it to save himself the awkwardness that was sure to be felt by them all.

"Hello Harry," Healer Smithe said in a voice far from his normal bubbly personality. Harry frowned, while he hadn't seen his healer since last Saturday, he questioned to himself why the man seemed to be feeling down today. Maybe it was a bad day for everyone overall?

"Good morning," Harry said a little warily; deep down hoping the somber attitude had nothing to do with Ginny. He was going to ask if everything was ok, but at the last minute decided he didn't want to know right before he needed to sit still to allow a giant needle into his spinal cord. Even after all the times he has had this done to him, he still shivered at the visual of it.

The healer was walking Professor McGonagall through what to expect at the same time he took the required blood sample. Then he started the antiemetic through his port to drip while they waited for him to go back to run the blood work. Harry didn't anticipate any issues with it today.

"What does that do?" Professor McGonagall asked, genuinely curious, when they were sitting waiting for the healer to return. She was pointing to the bag of medication.

"It's to help with the nausea," Harry said, not meeting her eyes; then mumbled, "it doesn't work very well though."

They sat in an odd silence and his mind began to wander back to when he started this whole process with Snape. He didn't remember it ever feeling so awkward. If anything, he should have been more comfortable with Professor McGonagall than he ever was with Snape. She was his Head of House after all and until this summer, he had a far better relationship with her than he had with the defense professor. Now, she was his guardian and yet he felt like they barely knew each other.

"I'm sorry I missed my lesson yesterday," he said legitimately sorry because not only would it be difficult to make up, but he hated to disrespect Professor McGonagall who worked so hard to put his schedule together.

"That ok Harry," she patted his leg reassuringly. "Remember the schedule is fluid based on how you're feeling. Miss. Granger has said you've done fantastic in her tutoring, so I doubt you'll be too far behind next week."

Harry nodded. Not being able to use magic - and studying theory only - meant he didn't have much to work on for Transfiguration anyway so he did believe his professor about staying caught up.

"Severus told me about before," she said cryptically, hoping to draw Harry out of the negative mental state he was in.

Harry furrowed his brows in confusion, "Before what?"

"The other memories he has. The other life with the two of you," while the two professors had not discussed the other reality since Snape had originally told her, it weighed on her mind whenever she saw Snape and Harry together. She was happy they had been able to help one another - to become a family - and it appeared they were on their way down the same path here.

"Oh," Harry flatly replied. This really wasn't the best time to talk about it, but she couldn't know that, so Harry didn't want to take his anger out on her. "What did he say about it?"

"He explained what happened there, the adoption I mean. I imagine it would have been good for both of you," she let a small smile creep over her face to show her approval of it to her young lion.

He wanted to talk to someone about how he was feeling, but he didn't know where to start. Closing his eyes he asked, "Do you think he regrets it?"

"The adoption? Absolutely not. And I know for a fact he'll do anything in his power to keep you healthy and safe now, even if you aren't his son here," Professor McGonagall didn't hesitate for a second in answering, something that didn't go unnoticed by Harry.

Harry simply nodded; feeling confused about so many different things at the moment and they were all running rampant in his head. Just as he was about to ask about it again, the floo roared and Healer Smithe stepped out with Madam Pomfrey shortly joining him.

"Everything was looking good Harry," he said, still more somber than Harry would have liked to hear. "Madam Pomfrey will be the one administering your Intrathecal today since she's helped me before, but never done one herself. I'd like to walk her through it just in case she needs to perform it at some point without me present."

Harry didn't like the sound of that one bit, why would his healer ever expect not to be here for something like this. It wasn't that he didn't trust the medi-witch. After all, she's healed him plenty of times in the past school years and she's been part of his chemo team for most of the summer, but it felt almost too personal to have her do this procedure.

"Oh, erm... Ok," he finally said, laying down on the exam table that had been transfigured from the sofa specifically for the IT to be done in Snape's quarters.

The healer walked Madam Pomfrey through setting up for the procedure - explaining the syringe they use which was already prefilled with the correct dosage of his chemotherapy medication, the antiseptic used to clean the site, the numbing agent which makes the skin and muscle area numb, but unfortunately doesn't help down into the spinal cavity. Harry looked over at Professor McGonagall who was carefully watching each step the healer went through as well as reading the medication bottles and bags. Harry couldn't think of why she would do such a thing because it wasn't like she would know any of the medication names or what they did.

When it came time for the actual procedure, Harry was laying on his left side with his knees drawn up to his chest and his neck as far down as it could go. Professor McGonagall stood in front of him helping to hold his head and legs with Madam Pomfrey and Healer Smithe behind him. He closed his eyes and tried to bring up his Occlumency forest, surprising himself at how quickly he could end up high above the canopy. He could smell the trees and the grass, feel the wind softly brushing across his face.

"Harry? Are you ok?"

Opening his eyes, Harry was now laying flat on his back, as was customary at the end of Intrathecal, and Professor McGonagall looking down at him from above his head.

"Are you alright Harry?" His guardian asked again.

Harry shook his head clear, "Sorry professor. I was, erm..." he paused questioning to himself if she was supposed to know about the Occlumency, "...meditating."

"Oh that's a very good habit to have," she sighed in relief patting his shoulder. "You did great Harry."

"Thanks," Harry said then immediately felt silly for such a response.

After laying flat for twenty minutes, Professor McGonagall re-transfigured the exam table back to the comfortable sofa and Harry laid down ready to fall back asleep after his restless sleep the night before.

In addition to the Intrathecal Madam Pomfrey was also the one setting up his extra IV of morphine - because he was getting the medication that caused the stomach pain the first time - and his regular chemo through his port. With Healer Smithe still in the sitting room, Harry questioned to himself why the medi-witch was doing all the work. Maybe the healer was sick and didn't want Harry to catch it? But then Harry would have hoped he would not have come in the first place; Madam Pomfrey was more than capable of starting the morphine and chemotherapy alone.

"Have you seen him today?" Harry asked once it was only Harry and Professor McGonagall left in the room.

"This morning yes," she said knowing automatically he was talking about Snape, "he walked me through all of your procedures and medications to make sure you are getting the correct ones at the right dosages."

That's an odd thing to do.

"Did he say anything about..." Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"About you?" She raised her eyebrows in a way only Professor McGonagall could, "of course he did. He said you would probably sleep this morning since you were likely up most of the night last night and that you may feel a little withdrawn p."

The young wizard's heart pulled. This was so much harder than he thought it would be.

"And he regrets he cannot be here," she finished, sensing her young lion's uneasiness.

"He does?" Harry asked feeling a small flame of hope fill him; maybe everything wasn't ruined.

"Of course he does, Harry," the professor said, reaching over and squeezing his hand, "whether he'll admit to it or not, he cares very much about you. Otherwise I doubt he'd be doing all of this for you."

There was another uncomfortable silence over the conversation as he thought about the implications of what she'd just said. If he wanted, he could choose to ignore what happened yesterday and Snape would likely follow his lead. It was like he had control for once in his life, he could choose to walk away from his anger or he could choose to let it consume him.

"It's Ginny, isn't it?"

There was a pregnant pause as Harry watched his guardian very carefully, trying to ignore the sympathy in her eyes.

"They're working on breaking the curse. You don't need to worry yourself with that situation right now, just try to rest."

But Harry couldn't rest. As with the first time he started consolidation, he was hit hard with the triple medications after being off for a week. Professor McGonagall did her best trying to help Harry, but he found himself getting frustrated with her more easily than he had with Snape. Somehow he came full circle; in all this time, Snape had intuitively known what he needed and when he needed it and that complicated his decision in all of this even further.

By the time Madam Pomfrey came back four hours after starting the second chemo line - Healer Smithe did not accompany her this time - Harry could barely move from the sofa due to the pain and nausea even with the IV of morphine.

"Is this a normal reaction Poppy?" Professor McGonagall asked the matron as she rubbed small circles around Harry's back.

"Unfortunately he's had a wide range of reactions to the medications" the medi-witch explained gravely, "so it's hard to say what is normal for him."

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus was sitting in Poppy's office, practically held hostage, while Bill Weasley had been feverishly working on his latest attempt to break the curse from his sister. The defense professor had been needed this morning to help work through several bits of the dark magic they managed to run into early on in the process. Now he was asked to stay as a Potions Master to help quickly assess and administer any potions should they be quickly needed. He was completely dumbfounded as to why Slughorn was not overseeing the second part of this long, tedious process as the current Potions Master of Hogwarts, however he suspected his own involvement in the Order had something to do with it.

Of course, his heart was only halfway in the present, the rest was still in his quarters worrying about Harry. Even though Harry had known in principle that the professor knew about Charlie's death before he did, the vision he received last night confirmed how long he had known about it. This could break the trust he had built with the young wizard and he hated himself for causing it.

And then he had to consider the timing of the vision. This occurring right before Harry started his second round of consolidation chemotherapy could not be a coincidence. This was an attack that could drive them apart and isolate Harry during a time he needed Severus the most, not too unlike finding Charlie Weasley's body to begin with, before his last consolidation round. He was far too practical to believe in coincidences and this would have been the second coincidence in a month. It was basically psychological warfare and if it was true, it confirmed without a doubt there was someone close working against them.

As he was standing up to storm out of the office, Albus walked in with a concerning look upon his face.

"It seems this process is taking quite a bit longer than expected," the headmaster explained peering with sad eyes out the window, separating them from where Bill Weasley was working.

"Am I actually needed right here?" Severus asked frustrated. "There is a floo in this office that happens to be connected to my quarters. I could be here in a moment's notice if you need me."

"Unfortunately, it is to Miss. Weasley's best interest to have everyone in place for the fastest response possible," Albus sat down at Poppy's desk across from Severus. "We have no idea what kind of condition she will wake up in."

"Then you need to get Slughorn here in my place," he demanded, "I'm needed elsewhere."

Albus narrowed his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles, "What is on your mind Severus?"

"We have a leak," he said pinching the bridge of his nose, "I'm absolutely positive of it this time."

Albus stood again, holding his hands behind his back, "How sure?"

"If I'm wrong, I'll take Trelawney for butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks," it may have been a bit dramatic, but it got his point across without any further question. "I need to get back to my quarters and make sure Harry is alright. I'll fill you in once all of this is over."

Severus gestured towards the main hospital wing where Bill Weasley was working on Ginny with Molly and Arthur present.

"Of course my boy," the headmaster said quietly looking between his professor and the hospital wing. "I'll call Horace immediately, you keep Harry safe."

Severus didn't say another word, simply threw down the floo powder and called out "Severus Snape's Quarters" all the while questioning if he and Harry would come out of this one intact.

The moment he stepped into his quarters, he knew something was off. Harry would have finished his chemotherapy about an hour ago and the teen liked to lay on the sofa afterwards; yet coming into the room he was not there. The next logical place to look was his bedroom which, thinking twice about it, made sense because he knew Harry could not have slept well last night after everything that had happened.

However, just before entering Harry's bedroom, he heard the sound of vomiting from the bathroom; the last logical place for him to be.

"It's ok Harry," he heard Minerva say to her young ward. Severus went back to the kitchen summoning a glass and then pouring some ginger ale into it. It wouldn't completely help in the long run, but with so few things they could actually do to ease the effects, he was going to try everything he had.

As expected, Harry was leaning against the side of the loo in his favorite green - but not Slytherin green - pyjamas with Minerva kneeling beside him. She had her hand on his back providing a little support for her Gryffindor.

"Severus," she called out when she heard the door open turning towards him with a murderous look in her eyes. "Are you certain this is helping him and not making him worse?"

"Trust me this is the best way to cure him," the defense professor said, placing the glass by the sink and removing his outer robes. He helped Minerva up off the floor, taking her place kneeling besides Harry, and then held the glass to Harry's lips to help the Gryffindor take a sip. Harry was exhausted, leaning all his weight against Severus and didn't seem to notice the change of caretaker now next to him.

"This is more severe than the other times I've been here with him, Severus," she said, voice full of worry.

He ran a wet flannel across Harry's forehead and the back of his neck, just as the young wizard lurched forward to vomit once again into the loo basin. This time though, when he finished and pulled away, Severus noticed small black droplets within the basin. He lifted his Occlumency shields back to being fully functional, to help remain calm.

"All his medications and dosages were correct?" the younger professor asked while coaxing Harry up off the cold floor and started walking back to his bed, Minerva following close behind with his IV. Harry hardly noticed them moving, only small moans escaping from his mouth at odd intervals.

"Of course, Severus," she said wringing her hands tightly on the stand, "everything matched the parchment you gave me."

The man let out the breath he'd been holding; at least he could be sure Harry had received the correct dosages and had not been poisoned. The teen was practically sleeping as he laid Harry down into his bed, covering his small body with the bedspread. Hopefully he would be able to sleep off some of the side effects this time.

Severus immediately contacted Albus to let him know he would be staying in his quarters for the rest of the day because Harry was having a rough reaction to the chemotherapy. He and Minerva then settled into Harry's room where they played several games of wizard's chess to pass the time. Harry had another round of vomiting, but since the Gryffindor was exhausted he fell back asleep directly afterwards. Severus tried to ignore the cautious look from his colleague's eyes that were screaming to him that something had to be wrong. Unfortunately, he knew this was not much different than the other times Harry had been sick from chemotherapy.

Right before dinner Poppy came back to swap the bags of morphine. Being as observant as he was, it did not go unnoticed that Alton had not been around much.

"Was Alton here at all today?" Severus asked as he finished dinner with Minerva in his kitchen. Harry had managed to fall into a more restful sleep with the next dose morphine and she insisted staying with him in case he needed her assistance.

"He walked Poppy through the procedure this morning... The one that was done in his back," she shook her head as if trying to do away with that image permanently, "but then Poppy took over for the rest of it today."

It wasn't abnormal for the healer not to be present during all the treatments, he had other patients to see as he not so nicely lectured Severus about when the professor brought up his availability last time, but it was an observation he wanted to keep in the forefront of his mind.

He was startled when Albus walked into the kitchen, having not heard the floo roar, showing how distracted he had been lately. No one should ever be able to sneak up on him, especially when he was in his own quarters. He gestured for them all to head out to the sitting room where any conversation between the three of them would be more comfortable.

"Well?" Severus asked his long-time mentor once they were all seated in the sitting room; Severus and Albus on the two armchairs and Minerva on what was now referred to as "Harry's Sofa."

"Poppy expects a full recovery," the headmaster said, sounding exhausted. "Miss. Weasley will remain secluded in the hospital wing until further notice until she's in a more stable condition. She could be ready to rejoin classes as early as October, but we will not rush it."

"Oh thank Merlin," Minerva said, placing her hand over her heart. At least one of her missing students would be back to help bring about some sense of normalcy to their house. The Gryffindor tower had been taking the loss of their two housemates very hard this week.

"As to your missive Severus," Albus continued, "I believe I've found something that might be of interest to you."

Albus handed Severus a book he hadn't seen the headmaster carrying, Magical Theory vol. IV - The Life and Death of the Magical Core, with a bookmark placed on page 442.

Severus looked it over as Albus continued, "It is my belief that Harry is experiencing a physical manifestation to his magical core depleting. It would explain why he's having such a violent reaction to the muggle medications. If you will Severus."

The defense professor lifted his head to meet the headmaster's eyes, then went back to the book and read out loud:

The death of the magical core can be a painful event and as such, the witch or wizard would be aware of its occurrence. When placed in a situation that can cause explicit depletion to the magical core in a short period of time, the witch or wizard will experience episodes of increasing discomfort or pain as a defense mechanism to prevent the erasing of one's magical signature...

Minerva gasped covering her mouth with her trembling hand. They had all known Harry could lose his magic from it continuously trying to cure the side effects due to the chemotherapy medication - it was more probable than not that he would lose at least some of it - however to have it not only written clear as day in front of them, but to also know it would be painful for Harry, was almost too much to bear.

Severus stood up and started pacing across his sitting room thinking rapidly about how he could fix this before picking up a book from the table and throwing it across the room. The book hit the wall with a loud bang and neither of the other occupants made a sound. There was nothing he could do to fix this and worse, when the pain eventually stopped coming, it would mean Harry's magical core was gone. They were in a lose-lose situation.

"So what do we do?" Minerva was the first to speak, her voice quivering gently.

The defense professor turned around, the pain in his eyes unable to be hidden behind his already full Occlumency shields, "We keep him as comfortable as we can. Unfortunately, there's not much else we can do; he needs the chemotherapy to kill off the cancer cells or he'll die. It's that simple."

Severus had been locked away in his office; Albus and Minerva having left shortly after their discovery of Harry's magical core issue. For a small moment he was half tempted to simply take Harry back to Spinner's End and forget all about the school and people here, but they both needed the protection Hogwarts was providing. Then of course, he also was not sure Harry ever wanted to speak to him again. Using his anxiety as a source of energy, he completely ignored the plethora of marking he still had to complete and started notating every thing that related to Harry's cancer, his magic, the Dark Lord, the Burrow attack, and the vision attack. If there was a connection to be made, he was hell bent on finding it.

To keep himself organized, he started writing down what he knew: there was a high probability Voldemort had, in some way, picked up Harry's cancer by using his blood in the resurrection ritual, but they couldn't do anything with that and it did not appear like the megalomaniac was days away from dying as he should have been; Harry's severe reaction to the chemotherapy is in part due to his magic fighting against being erased, so not only does that prove he's losing his magic, but that it will be a painful process; yet Harry is doing unintentional magic - wandless and nonverbal - showing great use of his magic instead of losing it; and then there was the leak within his medical team, someone who knows not only when Harry is getting his chemotherapy, but how he's been reacting to it and knowing that was the time to attack. The list of people who would know this information was so small and had gotten smaller since Charlie Weasley's death.

All of those thoughts were immediately tabled when the sphere he'd been trying to will to life, glowed yellow - not an urgent call, but still one indicating that Harry needed assistance. He vanished the papers and books to the cabinet for safe keeping and quickly left his office for Harry's bedroom.

Tentatively and nervously, more so than he'd been recently, he opened the door. Harry was sitting up in bed staring down idly at the sphere in his hands that he had recently squeezed; as if he had been contemplating if he should have done such a thing. As if he might regret the fact that he squeezed it.

"Are you alright Harry?" Severus asked, more than a little confused. Nothing seemed immediately wrong with the teen in front of him.

"I think whatever that was has finally passed," Harry said barely making eye contact. "That was a bad one; I don't remember much from this afternoon."

Pulling out the chair from Harry's desk, Severus sat down so he was sitting across from Harry. He resisted every urge he had to embrace Harry, to do anything he could to ease the pain and confliction he knew the young wizard was feeling.

"We think we know what's causing it," he said carefully, wanting to break the bad news as easy as possible, "when a wizard's magical core is being threatened, it can have a volatile reaction. It's the headmaster's assumption, and I agree, that it is your magic reacting against the stream of chemotherapy medications. You're a strong wizard Harry, it makes sense your magic would fight back as much as it can."

"So all of this is actually killing my magical signature?" Harry's voice cracked at the end.

How could he refute that statement? It's not like this was news to either of them.

"Unfortunately, yes it does appear that way."

A silence enveloped them as they both considered what this meant and where to go from here. At some point, they would need to discuss what Harry would do without magic if it came down to it. Beyond the basics of finding a new place to go to school and a new career, he couldn't protect himself from the Dark Lord. Until Voldemort was defeated he would constantly live in fear.

"I'm sorry," Harry said so quietly Severus thought he'd imagined it at first. Then Harry lifted his head and the professor could see forgiveness in his green eyes; everything would work out between them eventually.

"You have nothing to apologize for Harry," Severus replied honestly, "I should not have lied by omission. Please understand though, I could not tell you anything until the Weasley's knew first, and they were not notified until we had confirmation."

Harry winced at the word confirmation and Severus knew he was thinking of the body because that's exactly what the professor had meant.

"Is that what you used to do," the Gryffindor asked with a trembling voice, "when you would get summoned?"

The former Death Eater's breath hitched at the question. That question took him completely off guard.

"Unfortunately yes it was," he admitted feeling ashamed of himself. "Of course, if you ask any Death Eater, most would tell you that they did not really know what was involved in until their initiation."

"Did you kill someone when you got your dark mark?" Harry's eyes pleaded for him to be wrong, but the teen already knew the answer. They had discussed his own initiation when Draco had stayed at the castle for training.

"Yes," Severus hung his head ashamed yet again. He wouldn't try to make it appear better than it was by telling Harry he had no idea what was going to be required of him to take the mark, that even as Lucius was recruiting him, his acquaintance never said a word about it. He would not tell Harry how scared he was that if he didn't kill the man in front of him that night, then he himself would have been killed. Instead he let the single word hang between them.

"Why did you become a Death Eater?"

This question he had expected. Everyone wants to know why one chooses that life.

"For respect... And for honor," Severus said confidently. "I had always been interested in the Dark Arts and at the time, the Dark Lord would allow me to explore that further. Then I had my own issue with muggles that I thought I could put to rest by joining him."

There was a pause as they both thought about what was admitted.

"Your father?" Harry eventually asked.

"Yes," another single word that required no further explanation.

"What about my mum? I thought you..." Harry rubbed his forehead like he was trying to push a headache back.

"At that point, Lily and I had our falling out and it was clear she was never going to forgive me... then she started dating James and..." He trailed off as the grief cut through him like it was only yesterday. He would not lie though, not to Harry, "Even if she hadn't broken our friendship, it wouldn't have mattered. Deep down, I already had my mind made up that I wanted to join. In the end, I wanted the respect more than anything else and it cost me more than anyone will ever know.

"Somehow I thought I could separate the other muggles - like my father - from Lily, which now seems petty and ridiculous, but at 17 and 18 years old it made sense to me. I told you the truth that I never considered Lily a... What I ended up calling her that day by the lake."

He could tell Harry was listening and taking what he said to heart as he worried his bottom lip. This was a big conversation to have that brought to light how strange it was to have the Boy-Who-Lived living with a former Death Eater turned Spy. And yet somehow, after all of that Harry didn't look scared of him at all.

"And I knew all of this in your old world?"

"Of course," Severus said without hesitation, "We discussed it very similarly to how we are now. Before the adoption, I wanted to make sure you knew everything about my past; so you wouldn't feel like you were blindsided when it inevitably turned up. And it turned up every single time I spoke to someone at the Department of Children's Services."

It was true they had discussed it, but in his old reality he had literally told Harry everything, including the prophecy - or the half he knew of it at the time - and his direct involvement with it. He was surprised when Harry had not reacted as volatile as he had expected that night.

"One more question," Harry asked confidently, which was a good sign for where this was going. "Why did you switch sides?"

There it was... The question he never wanted to answer to anyone, especially now.

"As I previously told you, that's an exceedingly personal question," Harry went to speak up, but Severus raised his hand to interrupt before he could, "but one I'll give you a little insight to...

"The Dark Lord threatened someone close to me and in that moment I knew I could not trust him. I was determined to do what I could to protect this person, so I went to Professor Dumbledore who promised to help. In return, I pledged my service to him and the Order. Not too dissimilar to Mr. Malfoy's defection here, although the person he is trying to save is himself."

Harry only nodded, but Severus knew there was no way he didn't know it was Lily. Harry would put the pieces together that the prophecy was what drove Voldemort to target his loyal Death Eater's best friend - someone who he may have wanted to be more than just a friend - and that single decision caused him to defect. But Harry would never guess that it was Severus who provided that prophecy to his master. That at the time Severus was proud of what he'd been able to provide even knowing it would kill an innocent child.

"Ok. I don't like it, but I can live with that," the teen said and Severus's heart was lighter.

"Want to go play some chess? I'm not feeling much like sleeping at the moment," Harry asked smiling at Severus.

"Of course," he stood and helped Harry off the bed and followed him as they walked into the sitting room.

"Miss. Weasley has been cured of her curse," the professor said while setting up their game. Harry always played white against him.

"Really? Can I go see her?" Harry asked anxiously, eyes lighting up at the news.

"She's still very weak," Severus explained relaying back what Albus had told him earlier, "but Madam Pomfrey and Bill Weasley expect she'll make a full recovery. Perhaps on Thursday you can visit, once you're through Tuesday's chemotherapy."

"I doubt I'll feel much like going in the next couple of days anyway," sighing dramatically Harry continued, "What about classes this week? Won't I get behind if I don't have any?"

"It's a possibility," he answered honestly. "We'll take it day by day and base it on how you are feeling each morning. I've already told Albus I will be here at all times. I'm not in class on Monday and Tuesday, and during my class time either Professor McGonagall or Mrs. Weasley will stay here. Someone will be with you at all times during your treatments."

Harry nodded having already heard this when he had gone through the tutoring schedule initially. As the pair continued to play Severus's mind kept going back to the parchment in his office. Now that things with Harry have smoothed over, he wanted to finish putting the pieces of the puzzle together. Instinctively he knew they all had to be tied together, but he had no way of knowing how many pieces were left to uncover and that at least one was closer than he thought.

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry was left with a lot to think about while he was sitting through his four hour chemotherapy on Sunday morning.

Armed with the new information that his extreme pain was likely due to his depleting magical core and not only the chemo side effects, Healer Smithe ordered the IV of morphine to be used for all his treatments going forward - not just Saturdays - and he left Snape with information on a morphine pump should he decide it was getting to be too much. The pump would be a small device inserted into his body with a tube running to his spinal cord to deliver the morphine that way instead of through an IV or his port. While it would likely give him a much better result with the morphine being directed into his spinal cord on a regular basis, it would need to be surgically placed - similar to the port - and he really didn't think he could go through that again. Yes, the pain was bad while it was happening, but the thought of anymore things in his body was more terrifying. Snape said they could discuss it when Harry wasn't in any pain, so he could make a clear decision, and would then leave the final decision up to the Gryffindor.

Harry was still unsure how he felt about everything that happened from the vision on Friday night. He already didn't trust Malfoy and now knowing that the Slytherin was the one to torture and almost kill - wanted to kill - Charlie, was just more reason they shouldn't allow him anywhere near any Order business. But on the other hand, no matter how much he wanted to, Harry could not deny what he'd seen; that Malfoy's initiation was awful and deep down he felt some kind of empathy for his classmate. The fact that Malfoy couldn't actually use the Killing Curse, even if he did use the Cruciatus, gave him some reason to doubt his own thoughts on the matter and only confused him further. If he were being honest, he couldn't really hold Malfoy responsible for using the Cruciatus Curse when he tried to do the same thing to Bellatrix last June... sometimes he hated his Gryffindor honor. Wherever he ended up with Malfoy, he also needed to think about what would happen if Ron found out he knew - which he naturally assumed he was not supposed to tell his best friend - the mere thought of that made him shutter.

Then there was the conversation with Snape last night running through his mind. He never expected it would take the turn it did and he definitely never expected to feel defensive on behalf of the professor. Harry had as much reason to hate muggles as Snape, but he'd never consider joining the Death Eaters. Just their name sounded like it would go against all of his morals, so that alone was reason enough to stay far away from them.

At the same time though, he couldn't discount the fact that he knew Snape's life growing up was as difficult as his own was at the Dursleys. Harry recognized that he'd been lucky because he had been able to use his injustices to empower himself and at the same time he did not let it consume him as Snape likely did. Plus, Harry got to leave his tormentors each September until June, whereas Snape just traded his rough home life for his rough school life. In the end, it was obvious Snape didn't necessarily have the same resolve Harry did when coming to Hogwarts to handle his school bullies. Closing his eyes, Harry tried to imagine what it would be like to be surrounded by people who idolized Voldemort, when you only had one friend and she was in the house against your own. He could almost feel the loneliness creeping up inside of him if he had to deal with the teenage versions of his dad and Sirius without Ron or Hermione by his side. It was no longer black or white and it hurt his head if he tried to think about it too much at one time.

"How are you feeling?" Snape asked, walking out of his office late Sunday afternoon. He'd spent a lot of time in there recently and Harry really wanted to know why, but never asked; if Snape wanted him to know he would have said so by now.

"As good as can be expected. I'm getting used to all this and don't get me wrong, it's awful, but as long as the burning pain isn't here I can handle it," Harry had finished chemo about two hours ago and was attempting to sketch on the sofa between the rounds of vomiting. Never did the young wizard think that vomiting this often would become the normal course of his life.

Snape sat down in his armchair watching Harry for signs of anything alarming. Apparently Harry passed whatever test it was because the man in front of his said, "I've been telling you that it's my belief that you do better with select information, last Friday being a prime example, so I think it's time we test that theory."

It may have seemed odd to anyone else, but Harry was flooded with excitement! Finally someone was going to voluntarily give him information; unprompted too! He placed his sketchbook off to the side, leaning forward so he could give Snape his full attention.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, aware that this could very well be bad news, but he craved it anyway. He wanted to feel like he was helping and not simply existing and trying to live.

Snape steepled his hands, choosing his words carefully, "I've been doing a lot of research on your cancer-"

Harry couldn't help but to smile, something that distracted Snape from his train of thought, especially when Harry claimed, "You sound just like Hermione."

The professor narrowed his eyes and replied unamused, "Since I am the adult, I think the correct turn of phrase is that she sounds just like me."

Harry hadn't thought about it like that, but he couldn't really refute the logic so he waited for Snape to continue.

"As I was saying," the professor said seriously, bringing Harry back to the conversation they were about to have, "as you already know, your cancer resides in your bone marrow. Therefore there are certain... characteristics that make it unique."

He's going to try to make me figure this out on my own isn't he?

"Like what?" Harry decided to play along for the time being, hopefully at some point Snape would get frustrated and simply tell him what was going on.

"For one," the professor continued, "you can never donate bone marrow because while cancer, in general, is not contagious, the instructions - so to say - for your Leukemia reside within your bone marrow and it can be shared if you were to give your bone marrow to another person."

"That's not a problem," Harry said slowly as if what he was about to say was of the utmost importance, "after all of the biopsies I'm sure to go through in the next three years, I don't think I'll ever want to voluntarily go through that procedure again. I'm not missing out on anything by not donating my bone marrow."

"Let me try this another way... the bone marrow is where the components of the blood are born - for every human," Snape said; both amused and frustrated with Harry's line of thinking, "and let us say you were to give some of your bone marrow to another person or your bone marrow, your blood, now makes up that of another person, the instructions for your cancer would then reside within that person's blood..."

He trailed off hoping Harry would catch on and was pleasantly surprised when the Gryffindor's eyes went wide with realization.

"Vold- I mean... You-know-who can have it then," Harry sat up straighter running his hands over his covered hairless head, clearly a habit from when his head was full of unmanageable black hair, "He used my blood to recreate his own, so that would mean there's a chance he has this."

"Exactly," Snape sighed in relief. "What we have not been able to ascertain is how far along it has progressed. For reasons unknown, it does not appear nearly as aggressive as your own."

Harry frowned in deep thought, "Well, that's simple - he's a stronger wizard than I am. His magic is probably doing a better job fighting it like mine couldn't, or wouldn't do, in the first place."

"Not necessarily," Snape leaned back as he walked through this logic in his own mind as well as with Harry. "Even if one were to ignore the prophecy's statement of the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, you have unfortunately contended against the Dark Lord on five separate occasions and he has yet to be victorious-"

"You mean he hasn't managed to kill me yet," Harry interrupted sarcastically.

"Precisely," Snape admitted with a warning look to his eyes, "No matter my feelings on the matter, do not discount those encounters, Harry. However you managed to become affected by your cancer it is not because you are a weak wizard. On the contrary, you are an extremely strong one."

That was a huge compliment, especially from Snape. Harry worried his bottom lip, thinking hard about what that meant about himself and the situation against the dark wizard. He decided to start with asking about himself; this opportunity wouldn't always be so perfectly set up.

"How did I manage to get the cancer?" It was always the first question that was asked and he had been thinking that it didn't matter to him how he got it, just that it happened, but deep down it did matter. He wanted to know... why me?

"Well," Snape said going back in his mind to the hours of reading that he had done recently, "Leukemia is typically genetic, meaning it's passed down within families. Your mother was obviously a muggleborn, so there is likely a family history of Leukemia somewhere in her family line."

Harry considered that and for once wished Aunt Petunia was still alive to ask. Had anyone else in his family fought the same disease he was fighting? And if so did they survive it? Dudley probably wouldn't know, but Harry decided to ask in his next letter to his cousin.

"But my magic should have gotten rid of it," Harry stated, allowing the unfairness of it all to fill him to his core. "That's why wizards don't get a whole range of muggle diseases."

"Theoretically you are correct," Snape said, picking up on Harry's current mood and treading lightly, not wishing to add fuel to his fire. "However, there is clearly something that prevented your magic from doing away with the Leukemia cells and I am working on finding out as much as I can on what that is."

Harry, who hated being different or the exception to every rule, didn't like the sound of that at all. What could cause his magic to not prevent something as important as this? He would have taken a myriad of other muggle illnesses over this one.

"So then, Vol-," he cut himself off again. Since learning that Snape had physical pain whenever he said Voldemort's name, he was trying his hardest not to say it, "you-know-who, has something that I don't have, but you don't think it's just more powerful magic?"

"Exactly," the professor confirmed, "if it were as simple as levels of magic, you would not have gotten it to begin with; every wizarding medical book supports that statement."

It made sense to Harry in theory, but in reality he does have Leukemia and it is trying to kill him so there wasn't much else he could think of besides his level of magic.

Even though Monday was a chemo day, Harry wanted to attempt to do his tutoring. On Monday's he had Herbology and Transfiguration tutoring during the day, with Neville and Hermione respectively, followed by defense with Snape in the evening. He had no doubts he'd be at least well enough for his evening classes, but with only each class being taught once a week for two hours, he realistically needed the tutoring to stay caught up.

On Monday morning, Harry was up, showered, and dressed with more energy than he had expected; it was one of those rare good days. Today's Herbology tutoring would only be his second time seeing Neville and the first time while actually getting a treatment done. As a pureblood, Neville wasn't aware of anything Harry was having to deal with, but he had been respectful enough the previous week not to ask too many personal questions. The same could not be said about Malfoy who asked whatever the hell he wanted regardless of how personal it was. Harry was already dreading tomorrow's set of tutoring with the Slytherin and was highly considering canceling it just because he could.

"I have a full schedule before lunch today," Snape lectured after breakfast, as Harry sat on the sofa and Madam Pomfrey set up his four hour chemo; Healer Smithe had been by earlier that morning for the blood sample, but did not return, choosing to send the results to the medi-witch, "but Mrs. Weasley will be here and then I'll be by for lunch and during my free period later this afternoon."

"Aren't you supposed to be in your office during your free periods? In case, I don't know, a student has a question or something?" Harry asked sarcastically. While the Gryffindor had never really needed to visit a professor during their free periods because he had Hermione to answer any question he had - and he would never be caught dead going to Snape's office voluntarily - theoretically he understood why they had open office time. As much as he wanted Snape to stay with him, he also didn't want it to come at the expense of the other students' education.

"Yes, and as I said last month, this new position allows me a bit more flexibility," the professor replied with a touch of anger in his voice; he was walking about their quarters collecting all his required supplies for class which Harry assumed threw off his morning. Not long after, Snape left for his first class, which Harry knew was supposed to be his own defense class. Last year, the thought of starting the week in Snape's class would have ruined his whole year; now he was actually looking forward to it once he could return to classes.

Harry had pulled out his Herbology essay on poisonous plant identifications when the floo roared and Mrs. Weasley stepped out.

"Good morning Harry," the Weasley matriarch called out, walking over to give Harry a careful hug so as not to crush the line going into his port.

"Good morning Mrs. Weasley," he replied, but then jumped right into asking, "How's Ginny doing?"

"Getting stronger by the minute. You know our Ginny, she's a stubborn one," Mrs. Weasley pulled out her customary knitting - it looked like it was going to be a gold scarf - and started working. "Madam Pomfrey thinks she'll be able to join classes even before October."

Harry nodded, not trusting his voice to sound confident that she would be alright at the end of everything. Maybe it was a bit of a projection of his own feelings on his situation, but he didn't want to risk it. If anyone could come out of this and stroll back into classes, Ginny could.

Neville showed up for their Herbology lesson when Harry still had an hour left of his chemo treatment. It was immediately obvious the other boy was more comfortable in Snape's quarters now that Mrs. Weasley was present. Last week it took a lot of convincing on Harry's part that he was not going to be expelled for entering Snape's quarters and then Neville still spent most of the time peering around the room and stuttering. At first, Harry questioned why Neville would even agree to do this in the first place because of how much he was afraid of Snape, however if the situation was reversed Harry would do in a heartbeat for any of his friends, showing what good friend Neville was to him.

"Hey Harry," Neville greeted when Mrs. Weasley showed him into the sitting room. He had his school bag slung over his shoulder and his eyes were shifting between Harry, the IV stand, then Harry's exposed port site making Harry the uncomfortable one this time, "Professor McGonagall told me you might not be up to lessons today, so... just let me know if you want to stop."

"I'll be fine Neville. I really don't want to start NEWTs behind," Harry explained; determined not to waste the fact that he managed to get into all the NEWT classes to be an Auror. With his luck, he'd have to repeat them at the same time Snape went back to being the Potions professor and he'd never get back in. This was all assuming he had enough magic at the end of all this, but if he made that assumption then he might as well not bother at all. "Let's just get started."

For NEWT Herbology, Professor Sprout was starting them off with the plant identifications they will be using throughout the year - with emphasis on the poisonous or otherwise dangerous ones - before getting into specific lessons for each individual family. They were making great progress, only needing to stop twice for Harry to have an episode of vomiting; both times Neville gave him the privacy he needed.

"What is a green, spiky, toothsome magical plant with mobile vines that try to grab living prey?" Neville asked once they got back on track after the second time they stopped because Harry was sick.

"Erm..." Harry thought, rubbing the side of his neck in concentration and frustration. He knew they had literally just gone through this one, "Venomous Tentacula?"

"Exactly!" Neville sounded immensely proud of Harry. Neville really was a great tutor and it was good to see him with some self-confidence for a change.

"All set there Mister Potter?" Madam Pomfrey announced when she arrived a moment later through the floo to disconnect Harry's medications. She gave a little jump, startled to see Neville sitting besides Harry on the sofa with textbooks, parchment, and small models of various venomous plants sitting out in front of them. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had a class at this time."

"Oh it's alright Madam Pomfrey," Harry said awkwardly looking to Neville besides him, "This will just take a minute Neville."

"Sure thing Harry," the other boy stood and walked to the other side of the table to give the medi-witch space to work. He started packing up the notes they had previously completed, all the while watching curiously as the line to Harry's port was removed and flushed, and the morphine was changed.

By the time the medi-witch left, they had less than 20 minutes until lunch.

"So," Neville started nervously, "what is all that stuff Madam Pomfrey was doing?"

"Oh... erm," Harry started feeling his face flush; Neville was the first person, besides Malfoy, who hardly counted, to ask him about it. Of course, he was also the only other person to see him that didn't already know about it all; obviously his professors had been notified of the details on his illness.

"I won't tell anyone.. but you can tell me to sod-off if you want to," Neville was back to sitting next to Harry willing his friend to confide in him.

Harry thought back, yet again, to the conversation he had with Snape about talking to his friends. Last year, when Harry was determined Sirius was in trouble at the Department of Mysteries, Neville didn't think twice about joining them. He was a good friend, and Harry could use as many friends as he could get right now.

"No, it's ok," Harry said, taking a deep breath through the anxious thoughts and stared down at his stocking feet, "it's medicine... Muggle medicine actually. I have something called Leukemia."

"I've never heard of that," his friend said thoughtfully, not accusatory what so ever. "It looks pretty serious."

"Yeah, it's pretty bad. It's a muggle disease that's in my blood and it's rare for a wizard to get, but somehow I got it and if I don't have this medication for the next three years, then... I'll die," something about saying those last two words was so freeing to Harry. Then, once he started talking about what was going on inside his blood and body, it was like a flood gate opened and he was suddenly telling Neville about it all.

He explained about what cancer is and about how the chemotherapy works, he explained why it makes him so sick and why he has no hair. He talked about his port; what it looks like and where it's connected inside his body, going as far as allowing Neville to touch it when the other boy asked if he could. At the last minute he decided not to mention anything about his magical core, instead going with the idea that magic could cause complications with the muggle chemotherapy as the reason he could not use it. But most importantly, he talked about how scared he was; how much he missed classes and his friends; how unsure he felt about his future.

As expected, Neville listened to what Harry was explaining and asked engaging questions along the way. By the end, just like Snape predicted, Harry was feeling better after talking about it all. Lately, most of the times he had talked with his friends, he wanted everyone to ignore the cancer so it wouldn't define him, but in reality it wasn't something he could just ignore. Sometimes it was nice to pretend it wasn't there, but it was equally important to tell someone about what he was going through and how he was really feeling.

The boys were in the middle of talking about how Dean wanted to try out for the Quidditch team this year when Snape walked in, robes billowing in his typical fashion. Neville stopped talking mid sentence and instantly went pale.

"H-hi P- professor Snape," the scared Gryffindor stuttered to his defense professor. Harry was surprised even those words came out based on how much trembling the boy was doing.

"Good afternoon Mister Longbottom," Snape said as casually as possible for the long morning he'd had. "Will you be joining us for lunch?"

"N-n-no, sir!" Neville jumped up at the terrifying offer stuffing the last bits of parchment into his bag and heading towards the door, "I'll see you Thursday Harry!"

Neville abruptly left out of the door barely making eye contact with anyone in the room.

"You didn't have to scare him," Harry accused following Snape into the kitchen where the table was set for lunch for two; Mrs. Weasley having left for lunch in the hospital wing with Ginny.

"In my defense," Snape started portioning out soup for Harry and a turkey sandwich for himself, "I invited him to lunch not to a duel. If you care to know, Mr. Longbottom and I actually had a decent time in class this morning and therefore I did not anticipate a reaction of that sort."

Harry smiled; to Neville, lunch with Snape might as well have been a duel with the man and Harry knew the professor was well aware of that fact. No matter what happened in a single class, there was no way Snape could erase five years of torment that quickly.

Monday night saw his first real class with Snape as a defense teacher and he was probably more nervous than any other potions class he'd ever gone to. Unlike his normal classes, while tutoring he handed in all his essays as he completed them and was beyond amazed to see his defense essay come back with an E - a mark he has never received from this professor before.

"You did exceptionally well on the assignment, especially considering we did not have a formal lesson on it last week," Snape told him as he led them both towards his office and not the sitting room. They had just finished dinner together since the professor was exempt from meals in the Great Hall on his chemotherapy days.

"Thank you sir," Harry said, slowing down as he approached the doorway he swore he'd never enter, even though Snape said he could with him present.

"Are you coming or do you plan to discuss this through the doorway?"

Harry was now a good two meters away from the office and Snape was already to the desk inside impatiently waiting for the Gryffindor to enter.

"We're having our lesson in your office?" Harry asked, trying to keep the fear from his voice. It may not have been the same office, but the last time he was in one of Snape's offices was the pensieve incident and he really didn't want a repeat of that.

"Yes we are," the professor beckoned the Gryffindor with his hand to show Harry his explicit permission to enter, "I think you need a change of scenery."

"Oh," the Gryffindor replied lightly raising his eyebrows in surprise, "in that case..."

Harry walked tentatively into Snape's personal office for the first time and was surprised to see how comfortable it was. Three of the walls had bookcases from the floor to ceiling, with the only bare wall to the left, behind his large desk. There was a door directly in front of him when he entered which Harry naturally assumed went to the professor's potions laboratory - a place he was guaranteed never to see. Unlike his very tidy quarters, Snape's office had piles of parchment and books on the desk and across the shelves in the bookcases almost at random. Harry couldn't help but catch a glimpse at the large stack of muggle and wizarding medical books front and center on the desk as if Snape used those the most - a thought that gave Harry that warm feeling inside of him.

Picking up on Harry's discomfort, Snape pulled out one of the chairs in front of the desk for the Gryffindor as he sat along the front edge, a casual position he would never show to another student.

"I thought we'd simply talk about your essay tonight," Snape said and Harry reached down into his bag to pull out the referenced assignment. It had, by far, the least amount of red ink he'd ever received from Snape. "You wrote a lot about the benefits to using nonverbal spells, but had very little use of textual support."

Harry almost laughed, yet again, that the professor told him the same thing Hermione always started with when critiquing his essays. At this point, he should know to add more references from his textbook and yet he still never remembered to.

Given that this was the most active chemo day Harry had ever had, he was completely exhausted and therefore thrilled when he found out this was the only part of the night's lesson. By the time he made it to bed Monday, he didn't think he would have any trouble sleeping - he was practically falling asleep in Snape's office - but once he got to his room his mind was racing. He'd told Neville everything and even if he trusted his friend not to tell anyone, it still left him feeling vulnerable and reminded the young wizard that at some point he would have to go back to classes and then he wouldn't be able to hide the truth anymore. He couldn't tell if it was the chemo or his nerves, but he ended up in the loo most of the night unaware that he had warded the door with a silencing charm that would be impossible for even Dumbledore to break, nor that small specks of black were coming out each time he vomited.

As if Tuesday's weren't bad enough with Malfoy all day, Harry woke up with a small burning feeling throughout his stomach again. He didn't see Snape that morning as the professor had an early meeting, but he had left a note next to his morning medication saying that he would be back for lunch.

Malfoy arrived right on time and Mrs. Weasley showed him into the sitting room as she had done with Neville yesterday before retreating to the kitchen to give them privacy. Harry wasn't sure where things would pick up after the vision on Friday, but he was honestly too tired and in too much pain to argue with the Slytherin about it all. The blonde would get what's coming to him when Harry felt better by their Thursday defense class. Malfoy took one look at the lines coming from Harry's hand and port, and it quickly became clear they would not be getting much studying done - at least not without an inquisition first - which was stupid because this wasn't the first time Malfoy had seen him having chemo done.

"Why won't you tell me what's wrong with you?" Malfoy asked not even pulling a book from his school bag, acting like he had a right to know Harry's business.

"Very subtle Malfoy," the Gryffindor replied sarcastically. "I told you, it's none of your business."

"Well I happen to disagree," the Slytherin argued, confirming Harry's previous thought on the matter, "what if you're contagious? Like Dragon Pox?"

That was a stretch and the Slytherin knew it, they had been together loads of times and he never cared if Harry was contagious before.

"I'm not and you're just going to have to trust me," the feeling in Harry's stomach was worsening and he was having a difficult time concentrating. "Are we going to study at all?"

"After everything with your little defense group Potter," Malfoy sharply replied to which Harry gave him a dangerous glare, "I doubt you really need the theory we were supposed to go over today. Even Professor Snape was impressed with the level most of your members came in with."

Harry felt pride swell up inside him. The D.A. members were doing that well? So well in fact that Snape mentioned something about it? Maybe if Auror didn't work out, he should consider teaching.

"I told you, I'm sure Hermione has a book you can borrow."

"I asked her for the bloody book-," Harry couldn't hide his surprise even if he were able to concentrate completely, "- and she gave me this huge thing that even I can barely understand. You know all about my..."

Harry turned to see Mrs. Weasley starting to walk in from the kitchen, but Harry waved telling her they were alright. He really wanted Malfoy to finish his thought, but instead the blonde simply sneered at him leaving his sentence hanging.

"I know all about what Malfoy?" Harry prompted. He had told himself that he would let the vision go, but now he really wanted to turn the conversation around any way he could. "All about your other job?"

"You have no idea what you're talking about, so stay out of it," Malfoy's face paled slightly as if he were the one going to be sick. But Harry was never one to step down from a fight, no matter how awful he was physically feeling.

"You'd be surprised," the Gryffindor taunted with a face of disgust that was masking his own physical pain, "I saw everything that night. Your master showed it all to me. That was so nice of him wasn't it?"

He shouldn't have done it, but misery loved company and Harry was feeling the worst since starting Chemotherapy, "I saw you bow down to him on the forest floor and kiss his robes like a common slave. I saw how you cowardly attacked a man who was too tired to move even if he hadn't been tied up... I saw you fail at the Killing Curse - twice. And was that fear in your eyes when you thought Voldemort was going to kill you after the Cruciatus Curse?"

He smirked when Malfoy covered his left forearm at Harry's use of Voldemort's name. Harry intentionally used it knowing it would hurt Malfoy, however now that his angry steam had passed, he was ashamed of himself; that was something someone with less honor than him would do.

"Yeah..." Malfoy replied when Harry was finally done with his diatribe, "and I'm doing all of that for you and your side, so a little appreciation wouldn't be remiss."

Harry gave a grim laugh, "You're doing it to save yourself."

"And apparently that means aligning myself with someone who clearly has no idea what he's doing, can't do magic, and can't even leave the dungeons. What kind of message do you think that sends?" Malfoy's statement and question wasn't said in the anger Harry would have expected and without his normal malice. In the end, Harry knew the blonde was right; that unless he wanted to push Malfoy back to Voldemort, he needed to give in a little bit.

"Fine," Harry started knowing he would regret this the moment it left his mouth, but he was too tired to keep up whatever this was they were doing, "it's called Leukemia. Look it up because that's all I'm going to say. Can we get started now?"

That seemed to satisfy Malfoy because he nodded and pulled out his notes from their class with Snape yesterday. Unfortunately, Harry was having a hard time paying attention to the lesson and only five minutes in Harry grabbed his stomach and doubled over in pain.

No, not now... Why now?!

"Are you sure you're alright Potter? You look like you're about to pass out," Malfoy asked uncharacteristically nervously.

"I'm fine," Harry said, feeling the sweat falling down his forehead. He started taking deep breaths through the pain trying to switch positions on the sofa to ease the burning from inside, "I just need-" but before he could finish that response, he grabbed for the pail and started forcefully vomiting the small breakfast he'd managed to eat that morning.

"Merlin's beard Potter!" The blonde said standing up looking a bit nauseous himself like he'd never actually seen someone sick up in front of him before. "Let me go get Weasley's mum or Professor Snape."

Even if Harry wanted to refuse the help, he didn't hear Malfoy as his blood was whooshing through his ears, his heart rate was increasing, and he started to get light headed.

The next thing he knew, he was opening his eyes looking up at the ceiling from the sofa with Mrs. Weasley, Madam Pomfrey, and Healer Smithe over his head. They were talking, but he couldn't make out any of the words; they sounded as if they were underwater.

"What happened?" He mumbled in a whisper, trying to sit up on his elbows, but was too weak to stay that way.

"You passed out," he heard, but it wasn't any of the people above him - it was Malfoy kneeling next to him; the current bane of his existence. "Professor Snape is on his way."

Great, just what I need. More people here.

"I'm-" Harry started but was interrupted when the door slammed open.

"Do not say you are fine," he heard Snape's baritone voice echoing through the quarters as he entered the room. "If you were fine, you would not have passed out." He had a hard emphasis on the last two words as if this was somehow Harry's fault.

"Ok I'm not fine!" Harry yelled grimacing through another wave of burning. He tried to hold back the tears, but to no avail, "I'm so tired of this... I just... I can't do this... I want this to stop. All of it. Whatever it takes, I don't care anymore."

Though no one said a word, Harry knew the conversations that they were all having in their heads. Giving up, the Gryffindor laid back on the sofa gave a small nod and let the healer and medi-witch run diagnostic scans, take blood through his port - which he knew would come back normal - and change out his IV of morphine.

"What happened before he passed out?" To Harry's great embarrassment, Healer Smithe was asking Malfoy who had gotten up to stand by Snape.

"We were working on the lesson, but he was having a hard time focusing-"

"He is right here!" Harry interrupted loudly, trying again to sit up but still unable to. Mrs. Weasley was now kneeling down in front of him holding his hand, rubbing small circles along the top of it.

"Harry, we need you to stay laying down for now," the healer explained in a very serious, no-nonsense way, then turned back to the blonde Slytherin. "Continue please."

It was the first time Harry noticed how pale Malfoy looked, definitely more so than usual. He also had a fearful look upon his face that Harry had never seen on the arrogant boy before. If he didn't know Malfoy as well as he did, Harry would think the Slytherin was worried about him.

"As I was saying... He was having a hard time focusing and then doubled over like he was in pain," Malfoy's face softened a bit at that last part, "and then he started sicking up, which seemed to go on forever, and he passed out. That was when I got Mrs. Weasley."

Harry almost choked at the use of Ron's surname instead of Weasel or some other variant. Of course, given the vision he saw maybe it made more sense now. Whatever the reason, Malfoy hadn't elaborated or missed anything; no he'd gotten it all correct at least as much as Harry could remember.

"Harry, has anything changed at all?" Healer Smithe asked still not back to his bubbly self which Harry would have appreciated at that moment, "Anything different about pain or its location?"

"No sir," Harry said honestly, "still just the normal nausea and pain plus the burning in my stomach at times. That was today's problem."

Harry was vaguely aware of what his healer responded with or his IV getting adjusted when suddenly his eyes were heavy. Again, he was unable to determine if it was because of an increased dose of pain medication or his body just finally giving into the exhaustion.

~~~~SS~~~~

He shouldn't have been surprised when Draco came running into his third year class saying Harry had passed out. Something was bound to happen during a class period, however technically no one had known that Harry was on the school grounds and they definitely didn't know that Severus had anything to do with Harry's absence, which would now circulate around the school by lunchtime.

Last night Harry had, yet again, been oddly silent. Before turning in for the night, Severus had checked in on the young wizard and he was asleep in his bed, but then the professor had not heard any rustling throughout the night. Now he suspected that Harry had once again used a silencing charm unknowingly. His use of magic was starting to become so often Severus questioned how Harry hadn't realized he was doing any of it yet.

Once he'd made it back to his quarters, Madam Pomfrey and Alton were already present and working on trying to figure out if anything additional could be wrong with Harry. Even though this sounded like a bout of his magical core fighting back, something that was happening at least once with each round, they needed to check that it wasn't any other strange side effect or a secondary illness.

"Professor Snape," Draco asked once Alton had finished getting Draco's recounting of the morning and they were both standing out of the way, "Is he dying?"

The question was so blunt and unexpected that his body went cold. He could feel the grief blanket over him again as flashbacks to his son's last couple of days flooded his mind. Dying... No, Harry can't die; Severus wouldn't allow that to happen this time.

Once he was able to get control of his emotions, he could see how upset his young Slytherin was by all of this. At the end of the day, Draco may have been an arrogant bully most of his life, but he was still only a 16 year old teenager and was clearly shaken up by what he had seen.

"No, Draco, we're doing everything we can not to let that happen," Severus finally answered. "You need to Occlude everything you saw today; the Dark Lord cannot know about Mr. Potter's condition if he does not already know."

"You're not going to tell me are you?" Draco folded his arms across his chest defiantly.

"I cannot say a word without Harry's approval," he hoped Draco would leave it at that, but was not so lucky.

"Why won't anyone tell me anything?!" He asked rhetorically, turning around and kicking violently at nothing into the air.

"Drop it Draco. There are more important things for you to focus on," making a split second decision about how to best distract the teenager, he asked, "How is everything within the house?"

If Draco was suspicious of the change in topic, he didn't say a word.

"Crabbe and Goyle think I'm the luckiest bloke in all of Hogwarts; they keep asking to see it everyday," the new spy reported with disgust written all over his face, "honestly, they're a lost cause, what else do they really have after this place besides joining the Death Eaters?

"I think Nott can be persuaded, he's been paying an awful lot of attention to me and I think he's hoping to find a way out. Zambini... I haven't been able to figure out either way yet, but that doesn't surprise me too much about him."

Severus knew this year would bring challenges with his new loyalty known to the Death Eaters and their children, but he had hoped he would have at least a handful of students reach out to him for assistance. Unfortunately, his snakes have been silent thus far, however he also had not been the most available to them either, making Draco's mission more important than ever.

"Keep on trying to get through. The more we can prevent the next generation of Death Eaters, the better for our cause. You have a role to play now, do not forget how to act," the professor cautioned, inwardly hoping he could spare as many students as possible from falling into the same fate he had at their age.

Severus was in the sitting room cleaning up from that morning's events. He had informed the headmaster that he would not be able to finish his classes for the remainder of the day and tomorrow until after lunch. Harry was now asleep in his bedroom making it obvious that the young wizard had been up most of the night; confirming Severus's suspicion about his unknowing use of a silencing charm.

Bending down, he saw the pail that Harry used when vomiting sitting lopsided on the floor in front of the sofa and a muggle pen that appeared to roll underneath the sofa. Reaching down he moved the pail, uprighting it in the process to grab the pen, and that's when he saw it - streaks of black dripping down the sides of the pail. He tentatively bent to get a closer look, but when the first drop of black hit the bottom of the pail, as quickly as he saw it, the bucket self-cleaned and it was gone.

"Severus," the professor startled when he heard his name called from his floo; it was Alton firecalling, likely with Harry's latest test results. Severus immediately went and kneeled in front of his fireplace - his joints protesting giving way to how much older he felt.

"Well? Anything from the blood samples?"

"Unfortunately, everything looks normal on my end. His white cell count is a little lower than it was even this morning before his treatment, but with the next three days off, it should rebound enough to start the next round on Saturday. I'll just make sure to get a good reading before we start," His friend paused thoughtfully then asked, "Can I come through?"

"Of course," Severus stood and backed up to allow Alton room to enter. He summoned the set of tea while he waited and poured both of them a cup.

"Ah, thank you," the healer said once he exited the floo and accepted the offered tea. He took a long sip in a manner that Severus took as a stalling technique. "I'd like to test the level of Harry's magic before we start his next round."

Severus could have guessed this was coming, but thought they would have had more time. If the burning pain was caused from his magical core depletion, it would be beneficial to know where he was in the depletion process and by starting to track his levels now they could estimate how much more he'd have to endure.

"Let's do it Friday," the professor said, "it will give him time to recover from today and he'll be at his strongest before we start this again."

"If it's ok, I'll arrange it with the headmaster to get copies of his previous year's aptitudes for comparison purposes," Alton offered to which Severus nodded. "At this point, I think it's best if it goes quickly. I don't know how much more he can take of days like today."

"He's doing magic," Severus said seemingly out of nowhere. "It's unintentional, non-verbal, wandless magic with a great deal of precision and control."

Severus hadn't planned on telling Alton about it until he had more concrete evidence, but the healer had to know as they started testing and recording his magical levels.

"It seems," Severus continued, "that directly before and after an episode like today, he gets more control and more powerful with this unknown magic. I have no solid proof, but I know it's happening."

Alton took another long sip of his tea before answering, "It's not uncommon for caregivers to see things differently than they really are, especially when things are starting to look down," he paused meeting Severus in his onyx, pleading eyes, "they tend to read more into the smaller details or even think they see things that simply are not there."

Severus peered down at the small tea cup he was holding. He wasn't making this up or seeing what he wanted to see. It was true that he may not be the most objective when it came to Harry anymore, but he knew what he was experiencing was important.

"I think you should consider a mind healer, for the both of you," Alton continued when Severus remained silent.

"Don't go there Alton," Severus warned.

"Hear me out," the healer pleaded, "you mentioned before that Harry talked about how during the worst pain he wanted to give up and from what I heard of him today, he's getting worn down from it all. As we get rid of the cancer and that pain gets better, this pain from his magical core will likely only get worse. Who knows how his magic will react to the next phase or the one after that. He has three years of this Severus, that's a long time to be pushed to your limits. And then what about when his magic is gone? It's a lot to take in for anyone.

"Harry is in a very difficult position and that's for any typical 16-year old facing this battle and we both know that young man is far from typical. Suicide rates are more than four times higher in cancer patients, most of which is within the first year of being diagnosed. While I don't think he's there yet, some people hide it well," the healer hated having this conversation especially when someone he personally knew. "There is only so much you can do Severus and I would hate for you to come this far only to lose him to himself; to something that could have been prevented."

Alton was right, but the same circumstances that made Harry not a typical teenager or a typical cancer patient would also prevent him from getting the help he may need. This was another concern added to his ever growing list of things to figure out.

"Thank you for your honesty," he eventually said, "I'll take it under consideration."

The defense professor found himself back in his personal office late that night. He was once again sifting through the dozens of books on his desk knowing there had to be a connection to everything going on around Harry, but still unclear what that connection could possibly be. The conversation with Harry earlier this week brought about a new line of research - what could the Dark Lord have that is protecting him from the Leukemia, at least for now? Considering the extensive knowledge Severus had in the Dark Arts, he should have been able to identify, relatively quickly, any rituals or dark magic that could have been used, and yet he had nothing.

On a whim, earlier that day he'd gone to check the only other personal library he had access to that might contain some knowledge on the dark arts beyond his own - the Black library at Grimmauld Place. It was there he found the large, black, leather bound book - Secrets of the Darkest Arts By: Owle Bullock - he was reading through tonight in hopes of finding some answers. His stomach clenched tight and his body was filled with dread when he came across a word he had never heard before, Horcrux:

A Horcrux is an object in which a dark wizard or witch has hidden a fragment of his or her soul in order to become immortal...

The defense professor's breath hitched as his mind flashed to a conversation from his old reality he'd been part of in Harry's second year. That was the year they discovered he was a Parselmouth; the year of the damn Basilisk - which he'd at least been there with Harry in his old reality instead of the 12-year old battling the thing all alone in this one. However, because he was Harry's guardian, he had been with Harry when Albus explained that he could speak Parseltongue because Voldemort could speak Parseltongue.

"Damnit!"

His brain was working in overdrive putting everything together at an unbelievable pace, even for him. He flung open the door to his office and hurried to the floo to call Albus.

"You need to come through," he said urgently into the fire when he saw Albus sitting at his desk, "right now."

Standing back, he allowed the Headmaster to exit the floo not hiding his confusion. Even at almost midnight, the elder wizard was dressed in bright yellow robes that were almost blinding.

"I take it you've found something Severus?" The Headmaster asked his professor.

"What do you know about Horcruxes?" Severus handed the book he was reading to the headmaster all the while pacing across the room.

Albus's eyes grew with understanding as he read through the passage and came to his own conclusions.

"I had briefly considered the idea that Tom would have created horcruxes, however besides the diary there was no further evidence to support such a claim," Albus met his professor's eyes daring him to continue on his train of thinking.

"You said Harry could speak Parseltongue because the Dark Lord can," Severus casually explained, still pacing.

"I do recall that conversation, however I also believe you were not present during it," Albus challenged.

"In my other reality, I was there. I went down to the chamber with Harry and heard your explanation afterwards."

"What are the implications of such a thing?" Albus asked, taking a seat on the sofa.

"It's unprecedented, but if I were a gambling man I would bet that having a piece of such a dark soul working against Harry's naturally purer one would have an affect on his magical ability to fight off the Leukemia," saying that out loud felt like a piece of the puzzle fitting perfectly in place; he had no proof of any of it and there was nothing they could really do with the information, but it all felt too right to be incorrect.

"As you said, this is unprecedented so that's just as likely as anything else," Albus replied sadly. "If Harry is a Horcrux, I suspect it was unintentionally created?"

"Absolutely. If the Dark Lord knew about, he would not actively be trying to kill Harry; he'd want to protect him instead... Which means this needs to stay between us," Severus said in a dark tone reminding both men that while they may be closer to unlocking one mystery, uncovering the leak within their own circle was becoming more important by the day.

~~~~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."

~~~~AU SS~~~~

"It's dragons," Harry said, throwing himself onto the stool at the bench top where Severus was brewing; he was working on the antidotes for the next week's classes. No one seemed to recognize that the antidotes had to be brewed prior the classes they would be needed for and they always ended up being something most students took for granted until their eventual use.

Much to Severus's displeasure, no matter how many loopholes he had searched for, he had not yet gotten Harry out of the Triwizard Tournament. He was still working towards that as their ultimate goal, but with the first task practically upon them, he had changed tactics and decided to help Harry expand his spell knowledge to prepare. However, if Dragons were the first task, he wasn't exactly sure if he'd been focusing on the right spells this whole time.

"Are you certain it's dragons?" The Potions Master asked his 14-year old son trying to stay calm even though he was having a small panic attack inside. Who decided bloody dragons would be perfect for three 17 or 18 year olds and a 14 year old to battle?

"I'm pretty sure on this one Severus," Harry replied sarcastically, "even I can identify a dragon."

"I was merely checking," the professor placed a stasis over the cauldrons he was working on to give his full attention back to Harry. "Do you know what you'll be doing in the task?"

"I love how you don't even care how I found this out," the young wizard commented nonchalantly, giving a small chuckle.

"As the head of Slytherin, this should not surprise you in the slightest. It works in your benefit, so I hardly care how you went about getting the information; only that you now have it," it was absolutely true, though he guessed Hagrid had something to do with it only because Ron and Harry were still not speaking - especially after their muggle fight - so he doubted Charlie was involved.

Harry rolled his eyes pulling a mortar and pestle that his guardian had set out in front of him to help with the antidotes. Now that Severus was spending his evenings training Harry, then his son had to help with his "office work".

"They're nesting mothers and we need to steal an egg from them," Harry shivered at the thought, and Severus questioned to himself if the Gryffindor was thinking about what his own mother did when her child's life was threatened. This would not be an easy task in the slightest.

"Perhaps you can simply refuse to show up to the task," the professor said, knowing Harry would refuse; he was a Gryffindor after all.

"Absolutely not!" Harry expectantly replied fiercely, "and let the rest of the school think I'm a coward? They already think I cheated to get into the tournament in the first place!"

"I'd rather them think you a coward than you getting yourself killed. You were aware students have died in this tournament correct?"

Meeting Severus's eyes, Harry nodded and said, "Yeah, I've heard that a couple of times actually."

Changing tactics, the professor started to think about all the different ways Harry could go about getting an egg from an angry mother dragon. He landed on only one that was both easy enough for a fourth year and played directly into Harry's strength - flying.

"Alright," he said, picking up the mortar from in front of Harry, "tonight you start mastering accio."

Severus was sitting in the stands of the converted Quidditch pitch waiting for Harry's turn to battle his dragon. He'd barely been able to eat all day with the nerves building up in his stomach and everyone had intelligently stayed out of his way - students and professors alike. Against all luck, his child ended up being the last to go and would be up against the fiercest dragon of the lot.

When Harry walked out, Severus wanted to do nothing else besides jump onto the pitch and help him, but he was stuck here... watching... waiting... hoping the teenager would come out of this alive and unharmed; his stoic exterior was firmly in place to hide his nerves. Severus watched with the other spectators as Harry called for his Firebolt, something they'd planned the other day, and once it arrived Harry appeared much more comfortable with the task at hand. It was obvious when Harry quickly realized that the mother dragon was not going to simply leave her nest unprotected, so he adjusted his tactics and coaxed her away from the nest, then he swooped in to grab the egg. Unfortunately, Harry didn't make it out completely unharmed as his shoulder took a bad cut from the tail of the dragon early on in the battle.

The crowd erupted in cheers once he finally landed safely on the ground. Severus stood and exited the stands making his way to meet Harry who was already surrounded by Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, and Sirius Black.

"That was some great flying Kid," Sirius called out running - like a child - up to his Godson, ruffling Harry's always messy black hair, "Your dad would have been so proud of those maneuvers!"

"And Lily would have had a heart attack," Severus interrupted, approaching the group surrounding his son, "as I almost did."

Harry smiled, "Sorry Severus. I promise you that once I had my broom, I was in complete control at all times."

"Contrary to your belief, that does not make me feel much better," he replied examining Harry's injured shoulder as the Gryffindor winced in pain, "You'll have plenty of time to celebrate, but first you need Madam Pomfrey to have a look at this shoulder."

Harry turned towards Severus as if he were about to complain, but surprisingly Black interrupted him, "He's right Kid. Go get that cleaned up and then we'll get your score and celebrate. I bet you creamed the others!"

That made Harry smile even more and the Potions Master shook his head in defeat as he led the Gryffindor champion over to the first aid tent.

"Were you really that scared watching me out there?" Harry asked once the medi-witch had gotten his shoulder mostly healed and they were getting ready to head back out to the stands.

"Of course I was," Severus replied only half paying attention as there was some kind of commotion coming from outside of the tent, "I love you."

Time seemed to stand still between the father and son. While Severus had no doubt that Harry knew how he felt about him, it was the first time he had said those words out loud. There had been plenty of times he'd wanted to - like after the Basilisk in second year or the dementors last year - but never in his life had those words come naturally to him and given everything that Harry grew up with, the young wizard understood that. He was amazed now just how easily they were said in that moment; he hadn't even been thinking... simply reacting.

Even more surprising than the words he said, was when Harry stood up before him, gave Severus a hug and just as naturally replied, "I love you too."

Before either could make another move Hermione and Ron came running into the tent surrounding Harry with details on how he had done as well as the other three champions. In that moment, Severus realized two things - the row between Harry and Ron had officially ended, and he was going to work twice as hard to get Harry out of this tournament before the second task.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus had no idea how much time had passed, but it seemed like several more hours before Healer Smithe finally stepped into the sitting room where he and Minerva were still waiting. His friend's face was more grim than the professor wanted to see at that moment and immediately he knew this was going to be bad news. He ran his hands through his long black hair waiting to hear the inevitable.

"Harry is stable," the healer started, knowing from the times he's had to give bad news that stating the good first helped ease the anxious family, "The muggle medications take time to work, so we tried a fever reducing potion, which unfortunately, didn't last long enough to make any difference.

"He has what's called tachypnea - basically the medical term for having a hard time breathing - most likely due to pneumonia, but I won't know for sure until I get the samples back to the hospital for processing. Once we can identify what caused the pneumonia we can start a more targeted treatment against it."

Alton paused allowing his friend to take in what he had just been told. Severus hadn't looked up yet, but when he did, his onyx eyes showed pain deep into the depths of them.

"I've stared him on oxygen, to help his breathing, along with a stronger antibiotic than he normally takes, a medication to help increase his white blood cell counts, and fluids because he's a little dehydrated and we don't want that to get worse," Alton continued as the headmaster entered the room. "I think the best course of action is to admit him to the hospital where I work. His magical core is too taxed right now to handle any potions or anymore magical healing - likely due to his magical depletion - so St. Mungo's won't be much help. He needs supportive care at least until he can breathe regularly on his own and the fever is down below dangerous levels."

"He cannot leave Hogwarts," it was Albus who made this statement, not that Severus disagreed, it just was not his place to make it. "It is my understanding that you do not live within the wizarding world, but surely you are aware of whom your patient is?"

Alton looked insulted and furious, "Yes I am, but frankly I don't care one bit. I'm trying to save a child's life here."

"Then we are in agreement," Albus cryptically said narrowing his eyes, frustrating the healer even more, "taking Harry off the grounds at this time, to a muggle hospital no less, would most certainly kill him."

Healer Smithe huffed in annoyance, "I have to disagree, headmaster. Yes, there's a chance the Death Eaters will get to him at some point, but there's a greater chance of him dying from pneumonia complications right now. I cannot stay here around the clock, and even if it were feasible, it's definitely not advisable especially because he needs constant muggle medications. Severus, he needs to go to the hospital, and the sooner the better."

Severus's head was aching from the bickering. While he fully understood the healers' concerns, he also knew it wasn't possible to take Harry off of Hogwarts' grounds, especially with someone on their side feeding that type of information straight to the Dark Lord. He wouldn't last a day there.

"Alton," the defense professor said, standing to appear as if he had more control of himself than he felt he had, "Harry needs to stay here. I understand your concerns, but he won't make it outside of these wards right now. Between you, Poppy, and myself we will have to make it work."

"I'll compromise," the healer said after appearing to contemplate the situation a little more. His face made it clear to everyone in the room that he vehemently disagreed with them. "He can stay in the wards, but he has to go to the hospital wing. This way at least Madam Pomfrey will be right there should any emergency occur."

It was less than ideal, but the best he would get. The whole situation was sad that they needed to make a decision like this in the first place; that a teenage boy who was in desperate need of medical care he couldn't get all because he's being hunted down by a dark wizard for something that happened before he was two years old. Severus shook his head in disappointment, both with himself and his counterpart that used to be here; he had the chance to prevent Voldemort's return and he had failed at it.

"I can agree to that," Severus eventually conceded, still wary but it really was the best option in a bad situation. Worst case scenario in the hospital wing was that all of Hogwarts would likely know about it and it's only a matter of time before they find out about the cancer too. Losing some privacy was infinitely better than losing his life.

Minerva stood drawing the attention to her presence for the first time, "What does this do for his cancer treatment schedule?"

It was a good question, but one Severus did not need to ask after all the research he had done about chemotherapy. It would simply have to wait until he was healthy enough to continue. They would have to hope he would recover early enough not to be set back too far. The defense professor could only imagine what would happen if they had to restart from the beginning; he didn't think Harry had enough strength for that.

"We'll have to readjust once he's better. After the infection has cleared, I'll do another bone marrow biopsy to see if we've lost any time and then adjust the schedule as needed based on his cell counts and cancer level," Alton explained to the witch. "If we continue while he's sick his white blood cells will completely bottom out and he'll die from the infection. The best we can hope for now is that we can kill off the bacteria or virus causing the pneumonia quickly before we lose too much progress."

Minerva nodded her head, but didn't try to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. Severus had the urge to either throw something or fall to the floor himself. Somehow he'd managed to maintain his decorum in front of his current company.

"Can I see him?" The professor asked as the headmaster and healer were discussing the details.

Alton nodded slightly distracted by something Albus was telling him, "Madam Pomfrey is getting him ready to move to the hospital wing, but you'll be fine to go in there."

In almost a trance, he walked slowly through his sitting room and into the hallway where he peeked in through the cracked bedroom door. His heart sat heavy in his chest as he was reminded of Harry's last day in his old reality; when his son barely had enough energy to open his emerald green eyes and Severus didn't want to leave his side for even a second in case something happened while he wasn't there. Gently, more so then he'd been lately, he opened the door and walked in.

Harry was laying in his bed, covered in the soft green bedspread with several IV tubes running into his body, both through his port and into a separate IV in his arm. The oxygen that Alton mentioned was running through a different set of tubing into Harry's nose. He was flushed with the fever and appeared so small laying there underneath all the tubes, still completely unconscious, nothing like the bright, energetic Gryffindor he'd known so well. Madam Pomfrey was tutting around him using her wand to secure everything preparing to move him.

"How will he be moved?" It seemed like too simple of a question with everything else going on - like something he should not be focusing on - however he really didn't know what else to say.

"He cannot travel by floo," the matron explained, fussing about his bedroom, "so we'll be moving him through the corridors while the rest of the student body is in classes."

It was only Thursday. He should be getting ready for class; he had third years this morning and he was supposed to be introducing boggarts. Except classes were so far away from his mind as he pulled a chair over to Harry's bedside, making sure not to tangle it in any of the medical equipment.

As he set the chair down onto the floor, he saw a red glow coming from underneath the bed. Kneeling down - with the hard reminder from his body about how much older he felt than his 36 years - he reached out and grabbed the glowing red sphere; it was still burning hot. Using his wand, he levitated it up to the bedside table so he could examine it. The sphere was never originally spelled to alarm nor burn, but he now suspected it had to do with Harry's unintentional magic. Had it somehow reached out while he was unconscious to alert Severus of his potentially fatal illness? With Harry sick, they would not be testing his magic on Friday, however the professor was getting impatient for some answers about the Gryffindor's magical core levels and what it could mean for him going forward.

Severus spent most of the day at the hospital wing, in a chair he eventually transfigured into one more comfortable to sleep in, by Harry's bedside. This was where he was when Alton shook him awake right before suppertime.

"Good Evening Severus," the healer said, pulling out a wide variety of medications from his black bag as the professor, still waking himself up, stood next to him. "How's Harry been doing?"

"Aren't you supposed to be the one telling me that?" Severus narrowed his eyes at his friend. It had been a stressful week, starting with the vision on Friday, but he'd been a little frustrated with Alton's attitude lately overall.

"Of course," the healer gave a strained smile, he's had plenty of mourning parents to deal with in his days at the hospital, so this was nothing new to him, "I'm just asking if you noticed any changes since this morning. Has he been awake at all and if so, was he lucid? I can certainly pull all his stats with a diagnostic spell."

"I'm sorry Alton," he replied, feeling ashamed with himself. Severus ran his hand down his face and continued, "No there hasn't been much change today. He opened his eyes twice, but had no idea what was going on."

Those two times Harry had woken up, Severus took note of how glassy his emerald eyes were with the high fever and how confused he seemed. While the Gryffindor didn't say anything before falling back asleep, he was peering around the room having either no idea where he was nor how he had gotten there. Severus could imagine how scared the teen had to feel on top of feeling sick.

"I was able to confirm the pneumonia," Healer Smithe soberly explained as he swapped out bags from Harry's IV. Severus took note of the names so he could look them up later. "It's a type of strep that's very common and normally easily treatable, but given Harry's low immune system it took over very quickly. The antibiotic I'm starting now is targeted for this specific strep bacteria and should kill it off before too much other damage can be done."

That sounded far too foreboding for Severus's liking and he nervously asked, "What other complications could there be outside of this?"

"Well," Alton turned towards his friend and the professor knew he didn't want to go down this path. "If left untreated, it could end up in his bloodstream and cause septicemia or in his brain and cause meningitis both of which have a wide range of effects I will not be going into. But we caught it relatively early, Severus, even if it doesn't seem like it to you."

"He's barely conscious," Severus pointed out getting angry with himself, "had I caught it earlier he would not be here."

He'd thought about this a lot throughout the day. It had been an oversight on his part; a very bad and potentially deadly oversight. He should have expected and been better prepared for it and now Harry was paying for his mistake. All it took was one student or professor to bring in the pathogen that caused Harry's pneumonia and while he had been exceedingly careful about Harry leaving, he had not considered the people coming into his quarters for the last week and a half. Then there was Severus himself who was teaching all day and by the end of the week saw almost the entire student population at least twice. He was bound to pick up something and bring it back, unknowingly, into their quarters.

"Don't say that Severus; you're doing the best you can. If it makes you feel any better, during the most dangerous parts of chemotherapy - when a patient's blood cells can be at their lowest - most children are hospitalized as a precaution; going as far as full quarantine protocols if necessary. As we discussed this morning, unfortunately that was not an option for Harry," the healer explained sitting down in the other chair besides the professor. That did not make Severus feel any better, if anything it made him feel like if he could, he'd take Harry far away from here until the Dark Lord could be beaten for good. Unfortunately, Harry was too proud and too courageous for that; he'd never leave afraid.

"Is everything alright Alton?" The former spy asked thoughtfully noticing his friend staring off into the distance.

"Just tired," Alton yawned as he answered as if to prove his point and pressed his palms into his eyes, "even us healers feel the pressure sometimes too. Go get some dinner Severus, I've got an eye on him. He'll be alright while you're gone."

The professor turned back towards the bed at the small teen who wasn't going anywhere, and with the new antibiotics having just started there was no way they'd work before he got back. One of the most frustrating things about muggle medication was how slow it worked and it seemed even slower in a wizard, only that was probably just his impatience for wanting Harry to get better. Unable to find his voice, he simply nodded and stood up to leave - passing his wand across his robes to straighten out the wrinkles - as Madam Pomfrey walked in and ended up taking the seat he had just vacated. Harry was in good hands, and ultimately Severus knew he needed to at least make an appearance in the Great Hall for his Slytherins.

Leaving the hospital wing on his way to the Great Hall, the defense professor couldn't ignore the students' whispers and murmurs throughout the corridors. No matter how hard they had tried, keeping Harry's stay in the hospital wing a secret was nearly impossible and Severus was trying to overhear the conversations as he passed to find out just how much the student body knew.

"... heard he's staying with..."

"Can a wizard even..."

"... he can't even use magic anymore."

"...got something muggle..."

After the walk from the hospital wing to the Great Hall, Severus was beyond angry with the amount of gossip going around. How could people not respect the privacy of one of their fellow students? He didn't remember hearing so much going around about Ginny Weasley and she's still in the hospital wing recovering. Of course, Harry has always been the exception to every rule, something his counterpart had held against the Gryffindor instead of working to help him overcome it. For the second time that day, Severus was angry with the other man.

The professor tried to ignore the stares that were pointed directly at him as he walked into the Great Hall and took a seat next to where Minerva usually sat. The elderly witch was over at the Gryffindor table trying, unsuccessfully it seemed, to settle her lions; likely from the news about Harry. Minerva had called select students to her office this afternoon - primary Hermione, Ron, and Neville Longbottom - to tell them the news in person and Severus was grateful she had been the one to tell them. He feared if it had been left up to him, he would not have been able to do it as gracefully as she likely had.

It wasn't until he saw Pomona and Filius speaking to the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws respectively, that it even crossed his mind to talk to his Slytherins about it. While his snakes were just as likely to gossip among themselves, they were more likely to do it in the privacy of their common room than in classes or the corridors. He headed over to the table as swiftly and commanding as possible so as not to show them an ounce of the weakness he was feeling inside of himself.

Without any preamble, he called out towards the table, "I expect all of you to be in the common room immediately after dinner tonight for a brief house meeting. If somehow you have managed to get a detention in the first two weeks of term that was supposed to be served at this time, see me before the end of dinner and I will arrange for you to serve it on an alternate date."

Without waiting for a response or reaction from any of his students, he turned and walked back to the head table where Minerva had just taken her seat.

"How's he doing Severus?" The transfiguration professor asked with a quiver in her voice.

"Alton is trying another medication now, which will hopefully work better than the previous two," he carefully worded his reply so he did not exactly answer the question she asked. How was he supposed to answer how Harry was when he didn't even know himself?

"Can I have your attention please?" The headmaster stood at the front podium and called the room to attention once most of the houses were seated; stragglers ran into place at the last possible second. "Thank you all, I promise this will only take a moment.

"As most of you have heard by now, in the early morning hours today one of your fellow classmates was taken to the hospital wing gravely ill. I would like to assure you all that his particular illness is not one that poses any risk to the rest of the student body, and therefore I ask that everyone continue to respect his privacy in the matter. Should you have any concerns or questions, please bring them up privately with your Heads of House and they will address them in the manner in which they each see fit. Thank you."

With a wave of his hand, the food appeared on all the tables, but instead of the vibrant conversations that normally surround dinner time, the hall was unusually quiet and somber. Sets of students from all the houses - who either had not heard the news before now or hadn't known it was Harry - were looking around trying to see if they could identify who was missing from the Great Hall. At the staff table, there was very little conversation about it outside of the fact that until further notice, Harry's classes and tutoring had been cancelled.

Severus himself could not remember a time when the Great Hall was this quiet during a meal, however in searching through his memories he came across the one after Cedric Diggory's death. That was something that had not occurred in his old reality and that day had been quiet and somber too. It was another death that did not have to happen had things in this reality gone as they had back where he came from; something that was becoming overly frustrating for the professor today.

Once dinner ended, Severus stormed into the Slytherin common room in his normal powerful stride, robes billowing all around him, and the door slamming shut in his wake. He did not want to have this conversation with his students, but unfortunately something like this was needed.

"Please collect the rest of the students from their dormitories," he said to both of his seventh year prefects and then went to the front of the common room to wait. He could hear the murmuring around the room as the students assembled while he was peering out the window into the black lake. Once the commotion behind him quieted down, he turned to address his house.

"First and foremost," he started demanding the attention of his students. Everyone knew he was a difficult professor and as a Head of House he expected only the utmost respect from them, "I do not care how the rumors and gossip started, I do not expect to have any of you partake in spreading any more across the school, understood?"

"Yes Professor Snape," was mumbled throughout the room as students stood uncomfortable before him. Admittingly, he had not been as present to his house this year - and many of the first years were looking terrified - but he made a promise to himself that once Harry was back in classes things would get back to normal. Hopefully, this set back wouldn't put that time much further than Halloween.

"You all heard the headmaster's announcement," he continued, unsure how much detail to go into, but wanting to leave it as vague as possible. "I expect you all to respect the privacy of the student in quest-"

"It's Potter," Blaise Zabini interrupted, leaving the rest of the house speechless.

"And you know this how?" The professor challenged wondering if it was simply a good guess or something with more solid evidence that he should be investigating.

"It's obvious," the boy continued arrogantly, "Potter's the only one missing isn't he?"

Severus resisted the urge to show just how tired he was by that asinine comment. The teen would get nowhere in life with blanket statements like that.

"And you know every student... from every house," he paused for dramatic effect, "and every year? I highly doubt that Mr. Zabini. Of course Potter was absent, if you were that observant you would know that he has been missing since the start of term."

"Too bad he's not really missing," Pansy Parkinson laughed, hitting Draco on the chest in a bantering, borderline flirtatious, manner. To his credit, Draco gave a convincingly good smirk, but the professor could tell it was not genuine. It was time to reign in the students before it seemed like he was losing control.

"The identity of the student in question will not be released per the headmaster's orders," he practically yelled in a firm, confident voice, "The only thing you need to know is that the illness that has struck this student has no risk to any of you. Are there any questions?"

He stood before his house waiting to hear if any of them dared to ask the question he knew was in all of their minds. As he was about to dismiss them, Daphne Greengrass spoke up.

"Is it true Potter's staying with you?"

If the professor had been in a better, less exhausted mood he would silently commend her on her bravery. As that was not his current mood, he did what he thought was the most appropriate reaction and ignored her, but not before he caught a look in her eyes that made him question if she was seeking the answer for other reasons than to gossip.

"Should any of you wish to speak privately," he spoke in a careful tone making eye contact around the room, stopping an extra second longer on both Draco and Miss. Greengrass, "I will be in my office for the next half an hour."

Without another word, Severus walked passed the group of Slytherins and out the door.

He didn't particularly want to spend the next thirty minutes in his office, but it would be worth it if his suspicion was correct. With all his books on magical cores and muggle medicine down in his quarters, he decided to get started on some of the marking he was too far behind on. Until either a student showed up or his half an hour was over, he didn't have anything else to work on anyway. It took longer than expected, but twenty minutes after arriving at his office there was a knock on his door.

"Come in," he called out in a short tone. Having only napped in the armchair beside Harry's bed, he was now completely exhausted and it showed. As he had anticipated, Daphne Greengrass opened the door, but what he had not expected was Draco following in right behind her.

"Miss Greengrass... Mr. Malfoy," he said in a friendlier tone as he gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk, "please take a seat."

"Actually..." Draco said, turning to leave as Daphne sat down in one of the chairs, but one look at his classmate caused him to change his mind and the blonde sat down in the other chair; closing the office door behind him.

"Is there something I can do for you Miss. Greengrass?" The former spy didn't want to make any assumptions over the nature of her visit, however if Draco came with it could only be about the Dark Lord.

"Draco says you can help me," she started, her voice confident and nervous at the same time. Could it be what he was thinking?

Severus bought himself some time by organizing the papers he had finished marking on his desk. He didn't know much about the Greengrass family except that they were an elite pureblood line going way back; similar to the Malfoy's.

"That depends on what you need assistance with Miss Greengrass," he treaded lightly, not wanting to give his hand away too soon. "Is there something specific you are looking for?"

"Potter..." she looked down at her hands as she trailed off for a second before starting again softly, "Harry... He's staying with you isn't he?"

There was no way he was giving that information out to just anyone. The professor met Draco's grey eyes and the blonde nodded his head almost imperceptibly, just enough for the former spy to notice.

"And what if he is?" One of them would have to give in first and normally he had plenty of resolve; except right now half of his mind was still in the hospital wing wondering how Harry was doing. "If you could get to the point Miss. Greengrass-"

"I need help Professor Snape," she interrupted him, her voice thick with pleading, "I don't want to be a Death Eater and Draco says you can help me."

"And why do you think you have to do any such thing?" While Severus had never heard of any Death Eaters by the name of Greengrass, it didn't mean they didn't exist elsewhere in the Dark Lord's ranks. Daphne was the eldest of only two daughters and as part of an elitist family without a male heir, anything was possible.

She looked embarrassed and turned to Draco as if needing his support before eventually admitting, "This summer my dad has been talking with Draco's aunt... they want to get me marked when I turn 17, to give more honour to our family."

If the Order did only one thing other than take out the Dark Lord, it would be to eliminate Bellatrix LeStrange. Why do they keep recruiting younger and younger children? He could guess the answer; most likely to get easier access to Harry. Daphne was in Harry's year, her family likely wanting to appeal to the Dark Lord, add in Bellatrix and any number of scenarios were possible. Putting that aside, this was what he had sent Draco out to do; help the students who found themselves in an impossible situation like Daphne.

"Draco and I can help you," he said slowly then added skeptically, "Why are you so interested in Mr. Potter's living arrangements?"

Daphne looked down at her hands that were all twist tied in nerves and worry. "I just... I didn't believe what I'd heard; that you fought against the Death Eaters... and well... The rumors started that you're protecting Potter... Frankly sir, if they trust you to do that, then you must be good."

There's that word again... Good.

"You don't turn 17 until after the Christmas holidays, correct?" He asked quickly considering how much potential time they had. It wasn't out of the realm to have a Death Eater marked as soon as possible, but if the Greengrass's wanted to wait until their daughter was 17, then he would work within that time frame just in case.

"Yes sir, not until the 23rd of February," she sounded nervous as if there was a chance her Head of House not only couldn't help her, but would instead turn her over to the Death Eaters as a traitor.

"I'll speak with Professor Dumbledore and see how we can help you," he said confidently, not exactly sure how they would go about it. "Understand, this will not be an easy process and it will take time, but we will protect you."

"Thank you sir," for the first time that night, Daphne smiled at Draco, who in turn met Severus's eye in gratitude. The professor could see this deeply moved Draco - to be able to help someone out of a bad situation - and Severus hoped this could be the start of the blonde thinking of people outside of his own interests.

"If that is all," Severus ended the meeting by standing and letting his statement stand on its own.

Draco turned to address Daphne before she could say anything, "I'll meet you back at the common room, I need to talk to Professor Snape about something."

Daphne only nodded and immediately got up and left the office, closing the door behind her leaving the two male Slytherins standing alone together.

"Great work Draco. Keep a close eye and ear on her to make sure she's genuine," Severus complimented his protégé as he walked past the blonde towards the door, "We'll talk later; I have somewhere to be."

"What's wrong with Potter?" Draco asked in a more curious tone than the last several times he'd asked about Harry.

Holding on tightly to the door knob, trying to calm his nerves and ready to frantically swing the door open, he simply said, "He is sick."

Draco gave a small chuckle, "I know that already, but what's wrong with him now?"

"He is sicker," it was a petty answer, but his patience had been pushed beyond his tolerance level already.

The professor had just opened the door when Draco called out, "I know about the cancer... The Leukemia."

Severus was tired and he wanted to simply go, see Harry, and be done for the night, yet something inside of him said he needed to do this.

"Follow me," Severus called out over his shoulder. If he was going to talk to Draco, he might as well do it from the hospital wing. Maybe then he would be able to focus on the conversation when he wasn't feeling the worry in the pit of his stomach.

Healer Smithe and Madam Pomfrey were still around Harry's bedside, which seemed a bit unusual to Severus, however they both had spent an abnormal amount of time with the teen lately. Alton was changing out bags on Harry's IV stand, while Poppy was still seated in the chair Severus had napped in earlier that day.

As Severus and Draco approached the bed, the professor took note of Draco's gait slowing down and his posture stiffening. Turning towards the blonde, Draco's eyes were shifting to take in not only Harry's outwardly ill appearance, but all of the muggle medications surrounding his bed, the tubing going into the Gryffindor's nose, the port in his chest, and multiple lines going into the IV in his left hand. Had Severus not studied muggle medicine previously, it would be a lot to take in especially if he had come from a pureblood wizarding family like Draco's.

"It's alright Draco," Severus called out, gesturing for him to take the other open chair besides Poppy.

"Everything should be all set for tonight Severus," Alton explained sounding more worn out than before, "Poppy has everything she needs to take over and I'll be back sometime tomorrow."

"Thank you Alton," Severus replied quietly, walking up to the bed and picking up Harry's right hand. He didn't notice Draco watching Alton as the healer left for the floo in Poppy's office with the matron following shortly behind him.

"How did you find out about the Leukemia?" Severus asked the teenager next to him as he sat in the chair Poppy had vacated.

"Granger had a book I borrowed last week," he gave a disgruntled face, "but Potter told me the word Leukemia on Tuesday and I went from there."

Severus nodded. There really wasn't much else to say, so why did he feel the need to bring Draco here to talk?

Biting his lower lip, in an extremely un-Malfoy gesture, the teen added, "I don't really understand it though. Is that why he's here?"

The professor closed his eyes willing any of his Occlumency shields still intact to help him through this. "No, he's got something called pneumonia. His cancer, and the many medications he's on, make him more susceptible to illnesses, which is why he cannot attend classes. He likely got this from all the different people coming in and out of our quarters."

"He can die from it." It wasn't a question Draco asked. He had understood enough of the book to know what could happen. "He's supposed to be the savior of the wizarding world, what happens if he dies?"

At first Severus was angry with the selfish thought process from Draco - right at a time the professor thought he could be changing too - except the more he played the question in his mind, the more he realized it was Draco's way to distance himself from emotions he had no idea how to process.

Would Severus be as upset as Draco was if - back in his own Hogwarts days - James Potter or Sirius Black was laying in this bed? Probably not, but Severus already knew he was not a good person no matter what anyone else said about him. Draco and Harry though, even given everything they were up against, were good people; it might be harder to find for Draco than Harry, but he was getting there.

"He's doing everything he can to stay alive, and at least until now, things were looking positive. At this point, we have to wait and see." It was unfortunately the best they could do.

"Talk about some rotten luck, " Draco tried to joke, only Severus could see right through him, "first he's an orphan, then he's got a connection to an evil dark wizard, and now he gets a muggle disease. Is there anything else Potter can manage to get himself into?"

You have no idea.

The two Slytherins sat next to each other listening to the pouring rain that had started sometime since they arrived back at the hospital wing. Severus did not know how to answer Draco, so instead he decided to talk to the blonde about the Leukemia. Of all the things he was dealing with in relation to Harry, that was actually the most innocuous to discuss. He answered Draco's questions - about cancer in general, Harry's chemotherapy with the side effects he's facing, and the pneumonia - to the best of his ability, both of them keeping in mind what he could not say because of the Order. Overall, it seemed enough to satisfy the blonde's concerns. When it was almost curfew, Severus sent Draco back to the common room for the night.

When the professor had been left alone with just Harry, he had a million thoughts racing through his head. Even if - no, when - Harry recovered from the pneumonia infection, they still had to deal with what Harry had heard him say the other night. No matter how much he tried, there wasn't a scenario he could come up with that had Harry forgiving him for what he said without explaining the Horcrux situation. If he could figure out how to kill the Horcrux without killing Harry in the process, then he'd feel better explaining it to the Gryffindor.

"I don't know what to do Lily" Severus heard himself say randomly, leaning over to rest his arms on his knees. He's never been one to talk to those beyond, however tonight it was needed and before he knew it he just started talking, "I know it's selfish of me but... I'm just not ready to give him up yet. I'm going to find a way to save him; I have to. I'm not going to stop until he's safe and healthy.

"I promise you I'm trying to fix things here for him, I really am. I'm ashamed of what my other self has done both to Harry and the rest of the wizarding world. So much has happened here that didn't need to... I don't know if you know about the other reality I was in; I can't see how you possibly could... After everything I've done to get here, I fear I haven't managed to make anything better for him.

"I lost control. It's just been too much. I want to do something, I want to help him, I want to fix this, but I cannot do a damn thing besides sit here and wait. I have to trust that everything we're doing will save my..." Severus paused for a long time running through all the thoughts racing around his head; all of them leading to one single thought he'd never said out loud in this reality, "I love him Lily... Like he's still my son."

Severus pulled out his wand and transfigured his robes into a blanket, then settled into the armchair beside Harry's bed to sleep. He thought it was unlikely he would get any actual rest sleeping there all night, however the lack of sleep the night before, plus the draining emotions of the day had him snoring almost immediately. Sound asleep in the armchair, the former spy was completely unaware that Draco had come back to ask his Head of House a question about Daphne's situation and overheard everything Severus said from the other side of Harry's curtain.

~~~~SS~~~~

If Severus heard one more person say he shouldn't blame himself, he swore it would be the last thing they would ever say again. He understood he shouldn't blame himself, but he did not need the constant reminder of it from Minerva, Albus, Poppy, and even Molly. When it was all said and done, it was his job to protect Harry and if he had done his job properly, Harry would not be fighting to breathe through the pneumonia. Trying to think ahead, there was no way to prevent possible exposure if he was still teaching and Harry was getting tutored which meant he'd need to get creative in finding a way to keep Harry safe. In an effort to help busy his anxious mind, he spent his time by Harry's bedside determined to find a way to better sterilize their environment; even if it meant creating the spell himself.

Severus spent most of Friday in the hospital wing - trying his hardest to avoid Molly who was still regularly visiting Ginny - except for when he had visited the headmaster's office before lunch to discuss the situation with Daphne Greengrass. It was decided that Severus would start searching for any kind of Dark Arts history throughout the Greengrass family line which would help them know how deep rooted the family could potentially be with the Dark Lord. Concurrently, Draco would also help him to learn more about the discussions for Daphne's initiation from over the summer holiday. With any luck, this was a simple enough task for Draco to take the lead on almost without the professor's help. Their end goal was to have a plan worked out before the Christmas holiday to prevent her from receiving the mark, which would give them an additional two months before her 17th birthday should things not go as planned.

As if the day hadn't been trying enough, he'd gotten back from the meeting with Albus to find Minerva sitting with Harry, who was still unconscious. He hadn't talked with Minerva about everything that had happened before Harry had gotten sick and with his luck, that was what she was intent on discussing.

"Good afternoon Severus," she somberly greeted him.

The defense professor put on the muggle medical mask which was now required for anyone visiting Harry because his white blood cell count was still dangerously low. Without muttering a single word, Severus nodded his head to acknowledge her greeting; having no real need to talk to anyone right now.

"This is not your fault you know," the Transfiguration Professor lectured him for the twentieth time causing Severus to emit a small growl. "In the wizarding world if someone is sick, we merely take a pepper up potion and most of the time we go on our way. There was nothing else you could have done."

Taking a deep breath, he said, "I'm developing a charm to better sterilize our quarters. With everyone coming in and out, it's not surprising he caught something. I should have done this over the summer and had it ready before the school year started."

His colleague didn't hide her amazement at the fact that he was talking about developing a spell as if this were something he did all of the time. Giving a small chuckle she said, "Of course you are. I wouldn't expect anything less."

"Aren't you supposed to be teaching a class right now?" He was getting frustrated and wanted this seemingly pointless conversation to end.

Albus had excused Severus from his classes until further notice, bringing in Nymphadora Tonks to cover them - who apparently would have been offered the position had Severus not needed to change departments this year. While he was grateful for the help and the time to spend with Harry, he was also dreading the return to the mess she was sure to leave his class in upon his return. Albus didn't have the best track record with hiring defense professor's, himself included if we're being honest, though he thought he at least had a good start to the year.

"Obviously I have a free period now," she responded as if Severus should have known that; which he had, he'd merely hoped to use it as a sign for her to leave. "Why do you think Harry's going to die regardless of his treatments? That was quite the statement you made the other day."

He was really hoping she would forget all about that. With any luck, Harry would not remember either - not like that was a reason to ignore what was said that night. In fact, even if Harry woke up with no recollection of the event, he'd have to tell Harry what had happened. Too much had occurred over the last several months to risk losing his trust over this. For now, he couldn't tell Minerva about the Horcrux. Until he had more knowledge and a plan of action to rid it safely from Harry's body, the information stayed between himself and the headmaster.

"As I said that night, it was taken out of context," Severus rubbed his forehead more to give him time to think than because of a potential headache. "I was having a very... negative night and I let it get to me."

"Have you considered a mind healer Severus?" She was now the second person to say that in the week. He didn't need someone to talk to; he needed to get these mysteries solved, he needed Harry to heal, "There's nothing wrong with getting help when you need it. No one would think any less of you; Merlin knows both you and Harry have been through a lot in such a short amount of time."

All he could think about was the same thing he'd told Alton when he had suggested it, "Thank you Minerva; I'll take it under consideration."

"Sure you will Severus," she knew him well enough to know the man would put it off as long as he thought he could get away with it, and in that moment she committed to asking him periodically until he finally took her seriously. "Now tell me, how could Harry ward his door to where not even I could open it?"

"I haven't figured out what is going on with that yet," he replied curtly. It was another thing on his ever expanding list of things to research. If he wasn't feeling overwhelmed before, today was definitely pushing him over that edge. Maybe there was some benefit to eliciting help in at least this quest and it was definitely something Minerva could provide good insight into. "All I know is that he has started doing, what I unofficially call, unintentional magic. I thought it was simply his accidental magic manifesting due to his unique situation - a blanket being summoned when he was cold, his leg healing itself - but it's gotten more advanced and most definitely more controlled.

"The only pattern I've ascertained is that it's almost always related to something he needs in that immediate moment and that it's at its strongest after the episodes of the burning feeling in his stomach. He'd had one of those on Tuesday, which is why I didn't think twice about his door being locked on Wednesday night. I keep going back and forth and I don't know if I should be concerned over it depleting his magical core at a higher rate or feel relieved that it seems to be getting stronger instead of weaker, possibly indicating he won't completely lose his magic when all of this is over."

The elderly witch was thinking hard through the types of accidental magic she'd heard of, but couldn't come up with anything without doing some more research on the subject.

"I'll look into the unknown magic Severus. Nothing comes to the forefront of my mind, but if something like this exists, I will find it," she assured the man sitting next to her. "You have plenty of other things on your plate; let me at least take this one."

"Thank you Minerva," he said genuinely meaning it, "I would greatly appreciate that and it would be extremely helpful to me."

By Friday evening, Harry was still mostly unconscious using the oxygen to help with his difficulty in breathing, but the new antibiotic Alton started yesterday seemed to be helping the fever come down slightly throughout the day. For the first time Severus could at least see some light at the end of their proverbial tunnel. Hopefully, it was only a matter of time before the teen woke up and they could move on from this horrible nightmare.

"Professor Snape?" he turned around, surprised to hear Ron calling his name.

The professor was back at the hospital wing, after eating dinner in the Great Hall, reading through the book on cleaning charms when Ron and Hermione tentatively peeked around the curtain that was in place to give Harry some semblance of privacy. Unfortunately it didn't stop students from wandering by - or even into - the hospital wing in hopes of seeing what was going on and Severus knew every so often the curtains had been moved. They'd be lucky if Harry's cancer wasn't a rumor around the school by the end of the weekend. Severus stood to allow both of Harry's friends to sit.

"How's he doing today?" Hermione asked nervously, sitting down the chair Severus had just vacated with Ron taking the other one.

"Madam Pomfrey says he's doing well, but it's hard to know for sure," he answered her honestly. Harry had very few moments when he was awake and lucid which was concerning to the professor no matter what the medi-witch had said. Since Alton had not stopped by since last night when he started the new antibiotics, he hoped to get more information once the healer eventually arrived back at the hospital wing.

Severus watched Hermione take a hold of Harry's right hand, gently rubbing at the scars from the blood quill. Both of Harry's friends had known about the detentions and neither thought to say a word to any of their professors. It was frustrating, nevertheless he knew why they hadn't; Harry would have denied it even with the visible scars as irrefutable proof. No matter what his opinion was on Harry's friends, always enabling his secrecy, the professor knew how important they were to Harry and was grateful they could be here with the ill wizard.

"I knew he wasn't looking well when I was there on Wednesday afternoon," Hermione said sadly trying to hold in her tears. "I even told him so and he said he was fine. Why does he always do that? Tell us he's fine when clearly he is not."

It was something Severus battled with the Gryffindor in both realities, but it was noticeably worse here. Likely due to his continued neglect and abuse from his relatives, Harry had this inability to ask for help and then always assumed he had to be the first to jump in to aid others. That fact alone solidified Harry's Gryffindor placement because none of the Slytherins would go to that extreme; himself included. This Harry didn't know it, but Severus had learned from his old reality about the young wizard almost being placed in Slytherin. Occasionally, the professor questioned if there was a reality out there where that had happened. How different would life have been like if Harry Potter were a Slytherin?

"He is definitely a true Gryffindor," the professor said for the first time in this reality without any malice, to which the two teenagers in front of him turned towards him in confusion. Ron simply shook his head, Hermione gave a small giggle, and Harry - of course - did not react at all. He would have said it over and over again if there was any chance of a reaction from Harry.

"I should go; let you both visit," the professor continued, "please have Madam Pomfrey find me should anything change or if Healer Smithe finally arrives."

As soon as he exited the hospital wing, turning the corner to head back to his quarters for a little rest, Severus ran - quite literally for the student - into Draco, who was panting as if he'd run all the way up there from the dungeons. Severus immediately placed his hand on his own dark mark confirming there had not been a summons, and yet Draco appeared panicked; something very rare for this particular student.

"Sir..." The Slytherin called out, clutching his side as he tried to catch his breath. "Professors... I... I need..."

"You need to stop talking before you pass out," the professor furrowed his brows, bending over to Draco as his student was now taking large, slower breaths, "Much better... Now you may speak."

"I need to talk to you," Draco said in a still panicked voice.

"Yes," Severus replied, losing his patience, "that part was quite obvious. What is it that you need to discuss?"

The blonde peered around at the empty corridor they were standing in and whispered, "Not here. Can we go to your office sir?"

That sounded ominous and not at all what he wanted to hear. Severus should have prided himself on instilling this level of caution into Draco, instead he ran through all the different possibilities that the blonde could have to tell him that would require this amount of secrecy. Without muttering a word, he nodded his head and both Slytherins took off towards his defense classroom - or more accurately Professor Tonks' defense classroom - to use her office.

"What is going on?" he said the moment the door was closed and warded silently behind them.

"I've seen him before," Draco called out pacing the office in front of Severus's desk. This time, the professor did not even try to hide the confusion from his face. In his frustration Draco started rapidly explaining, "Potter's healer! On Tuesday, when he was asking me all about what happened when Potter passed out, I thought he looked familiar... there was just so much going, it didn't sink in at the time.

"Then last night at the hospital wing I was sure I'd seen him somewhere. I thought I was going crazy all day thinking about it because where would I know a wizard who specializes in muggle diseases? But then it hit me... he was definitely at the manor."

No, no, no...

"And when was this?" Severus asked sharply, his eyes wide in realization and practically holding his breath waiting for an answer. It made no sense and yet somehow he knew Draco was correct even before he answered. Clarifying his question further Severus asked, "Was this before or after the Dark Lord moved his headquarters into the Manor?"

"After sir," Draco had fear written in his eyes as he tried to make the same connection Severus was making, except he had so little information he would never be able to get there. "It was maybe... I don't know... Three or four days before the raid with the muggles. I only saw him in passing as Bellatrix walked him to the floo, but I'm sure it was him! You can check my memory in a pensieve if you don't believe me."

Severus took notice at Draco's use of his aunt's full name without the title. The teen was distancing himself from the Death Eaters - another great sign of his Slytherin's moral growth - even if he wasn't aware of it himself.

That was, of course, nothing compared to the problem they now faced. If Alton was seen, relatively unharmed, within the Dark Lord's headquarters, he needed to figure out if the healer was there voluntarily or if he was coerced into being there.

How far back had this been going on?

Severus knew the Death Eaters had found out the healer's identity long before the Privet Drive attack, but when did they approach him? Was that all a ruse and his friend had been working with them since the beginning? Severus's first realization of a potential leak was after the Burrow attack, but there was the possibility he could have been working against them all along. There were so many unanswered questions, but Severus's instincts still told him the healer would not intentionally harm Harry. However, what else could he have been doing there?

"Did he see you?" The professor first needed to know if Draco was in any danger from this revelation. Based on their previous interactions in Severus's quarters, Alton would have no knowledge of Draco's connection to the Dark Lord and if - for some reason or another - he did, the healer would have no way of knowing the Slytherin's intended betrayal. If that did get back to the Dark Lord, Draco would be in grave danger.

"No," the blonde said after taking the time to think seriously over the question, "I don't think he was paying enough attention to notice me. I was in the library when they passed by to the floo; hell I didn't think much of it myself at the time, so I doubt he would have."

That very well could be a fatal assumption.

They would have to be careful what was said in front of Alton going forward in regards to both Harry and Draco. Severus didn't think Alton would be placed specifically to spy on Draco, but it could definitely be a side effect they could not afford at the moment.

Heading straight to the office door, his heart pounding as if it were trying to escape his chest, he called after Draco to follow him. As much as this pained him inside, they needed to notify the headmaster that they had, with no uncertainty, found their leak.

"I don't see why we can't just go and get him. We obviously know he'll be back to tend to Potter at some point and he has no idea I've identified him, so we have the upper hand," Draco naively - and quite frustratingly - suggested. "Maybe, I don't know... Tie him to a chair for a day or so and let the madman interrogate him?"

He's obviously still upset about that experience.

The three wizards sat in Albus's office digesting the information Draco had uncovered about Alton being seen at Malfoy manor. The headmaster had asked to see the memory from Draco and no matter how they interpreted it, the situation was not looking favorable for Alton. Not only was his face seen clear as day walking across the corridors, Bellatrix didn't necessarily have a "prisoner's hold" on him as she accompanied him through the manor. It ended up being a good teaching moment for Draco to learn how to read some subtle body language, but Severus wished it had been under better circumstances.

He could be reading the situation wrong, although Severus highly doubted so since his friend had no reason to know the Malfoy family personally; or it could have to do with why the Dark Lord has not yet been feeling the effects of the Leukemia - however Alton was not qualified to oversee any potions regimens, so that was also unlikely. He landed on the only conclusion he could think of and that was either Alton was providing intimidate information on Harry for Voldemort to use to then attack, or he was going to try to do something to kidnap Harry and bring him to Voldemort. The latter brought his mind back to the conversation about Harry going to the muggle hospital versus the hospital wing. Had Alton been trying to get Harry there so it would be easier to abduct him? Or perhaps it was a distraction to get him to the hospital wing and somehow the healer had plans for something to happen there? Severus could feel himself getting more paranoid by the second and wanted Harry moved back to his quarters immediately.

Out of every scenario he'd gone through, the one thing Severus was sure about was that the healer was not actively trying to kill Harry outright. If that was his goal, he would have simply needed to leave the antibiotics on the one that was clearly not working last night. It would have been easy enough to pass off the incorrect medication as the correct one and kill Harry quickly. Severus had also been verifying all of Harry's chemotherapy medications and dosages; none of them had been off and that was another time the healer could have killed the young wizard with almost no one the wiser. Harry's life was not in direct risk from Alton, but it definitely was indirectly.

"Think about it Draco," Severus said, trying to get the teen to work his way logically through the scenario. "If we simply capture him, we lose every bit of the advantage in the situation. However, with the right execution this can work in our favor."

The last part was said to Albus regarding how he believed they should move forward. There were still so many different pieces they had to put together. The two professors made eye contact and silently decided on their next steps; the headmaster nodding his agreement slightly.

"I need you to go back to the hospital wing and stay with Mr. Potter until I can make it back," Severus explained to Draco. "Stealthily, you need to make sure if Healer Smithe arrives for Harry's medication refill, that Madam Pomfrey is there to verify everything he does. Firecall this office should she need my confirmation of such a request, but I doubt you'll have much of an issue as long as you explain that I've asked her to do it."

The blonde looked as if he were about to argue, but changed his mind at the last second. With a smirk he sarcastically said, "Ok sir. We were supposed to have a Quidditch meeting tonight, but I suppose it's more important to go watch The Chosen One sleep."

"It most certainly is," the younger professor retorted, shaking his head slightly.

Once Draco had left and the door to the headmaster's office closed, Albus stood and started pacing with his hand clasped tightly behind his back. This was his usual seriously thinking routine.

"Severus, I know you have a history with Alton Smithe," Albus turned to meet his defense professor's dark eyes hoping to convey his message with as much decorum as he could, "Therefore, I will understand if you wish to not be involved with the investigation. I, myself, would probably not feel comfortable being in such a position."

"My loyalty is to Harry first and the Order second," the former spy reassured his employer. "If it's determined that Alton is working against us, I do not care about whatever history we may have. If he's a threat to Harry, I'll do whatever it takes to protect Harry; friendship be damned."

"That's comforting to hear my boy," the elderly wizard replied in a soft voice as Severus was thinking carefully about recent events.

"Albus," he said in almost a whisper, "you do realize it's more than possible that the two muggles the Dark Lord kidnapped-" Severus was interrupted by the headmaster raising his hand already anticipating where this was headed.

"I know you don't want to hear this Severus," the elder wizard said with a sad look in his blue eyes, "but if Healer Smithe is, in fact our leak, the timeline does not match up in his favor. It would mean he was working with Voldemort for at least a month prior to when the muggles were taken. Unless they were kidnapped in retaliation, it's not likely they are the Smithe's."

Severus was aware of that, but it did not stop him from pursuing his train of thought.

"If Sarah and Mary were kidnapped - for either blackmail or as a punishment - we cannot leave them there. We have to find a way to get them out!" The former Death Eater slammed his hand on the headmaster's desk, rattling the trinkets sitting upon it.

"Let's table any rescue attempts for now and figure what to do with the information we currently have and how they relate to Harry," insightful as always, the leader of the Order of the Phoenix jumped right in, "Are there other healers we can call upon to treat Harry?"

"Alton has been in communication with a pediatric oncologist, however she's a full muggle - with only a magical sibling - which would complicate treating Harry's magical core issue," Severus answered honestly.

"From my understanding there is no treatment for his depleting magical core. So why does the magical status of his healer or muggle physician make a difference?" It was a fair question even if Severus did not want to answer it.

"Technically that is correct," Severus said hesitantly, "however trying to explain his pain levels to a muggle, even if she had a magical relative, will not be simple. Harry's been on a high dose of his pain medication specifically to combat - and in some cases preemptively treat - the pain from his core depletion. I'm afraid that level of aid won't be an option for him through a regular physician. Not only that he is getting treatments done in a magical castle."

Albus sat back down at his desk across from Severus, "But when is anything we do easy, my boy? I think it would be worth pursuing should we need an alternate option in a short amount of time."

He was right and at that moment Severus would give almost anything for their life to be easy; just this once.

"I can make sure Alton is never alone with Harry," Severus decided, "but I still think he's doing more good than harm at this point, and we should let this one play out for now. I can find out if, and how long, he's been working with the Dark Lord and what his objectives are, if you give me some time. I'd wager a significant amount of galleons that it's either information or access and I won't let him get either of those anymore."

Albus wasn't convinced, but Severus knew in the end he would agree. There was no way Severus would allow any harm to come to Harry and the headmaster knew that fact, which was the only way he had any chance of sorting this out before Moody actually got a hold of Alton.

First thing was to find out if Sarah and Mary were in any danger because regardless of the reason why, if they were at Malfoy manor they needed help. Then he could find out how long the healer had been working with the Dark Lord, all while trying to keep Harry on track with his recovery and treatments.

"As you wish Severus," The headmaster said, "however, please notify me the moment you feel our boy may be in any danger."

Arriving back in the hospital wing, he should not have been surprised to see that Alton had finally arrived. The healer was busy switching Harry's medications with Draco watching him from the chair besides Harry's bed and Madam Pomfrey tutting around with the healer verifying his work as Severus had instructed Draco to have her do. Going forward he would need the medi-witch to have as much knowledge of Harry's medications as possible so he could have an extra person to help make sure everything was given as instructed. Until now they haven't had any issues, but as time went on and the pressure from the Dark Lord on his friend grew, a fatal mistake could easily be made.

"Nice to see you Alton," Severus exclaimed coming around the curtain. Harry remained unchanged; still unconscious and breathing with the oxygen assistance. "How is he doing?"

Severus couldn't help being hyper aware of what was going on around them and he was proud to see Draco following suit. The blonde Slytherin was watching every move Alton made, however it was done in a way that an untrained eye would not take notice; Alton would assume he was studying his Potions textbook. After Harry was finally through this and healed from the infection, they would have to go through the skills Draco had been using successfully and the ones that needed more tweaking. In the short time they had been training together he was proud of how serious Draco was taking his position, especially considering his past relationship with Harry.

"Again Severus, I do have other patients to see occasionally," Alton didn't even turn around towards the professor or pause from his work when he addressed the accusation. "However, we do need to talk about Harry's condition. I'm afraid things have taken an unfortunate, but expected, turn."

Severus sat down in the other chair as he prepared himself for the worst. How could Harry be beating the cancer overall, but not something as simple as pneumonia?

"Unfortunately, the latest blood sample result was not good. Harry's white blood cell count is not rebounding at the rate which he needs to successfully battle the infection," Alton explained standing near the top of Harry's bed directly across from Severus, "I'm recommending a granulocyte transfusion which is a transfusion of white blood cells. It will help give him a better boost to really fight off the infection. With that, plus a little luck, he'll be able to get through this, but I suggest we move quickly."

The professor had read all about blood transfusions in the muggle medical books. He wasn't nearly as surprised as Alton would have expected. He already knew that they were very common for Leukemia patients to need at least one during their course of treatment as their bone marrow no longer creates the levels of blood components - either due to the cancer itself or the chemotherapy - at which the patient may need at any given time.

Severus was not concerned about Harry needing the transfusion because the young wizard had already had one done after the Privet Drive attack. In that emergency, it was needed to help both his platelet and white blood cell counts and the donor then had been his cousin Dudley; who was thankfully a match to Harry and willing to donate on such an urgent basis. Now if Harry needed blood, they would have to go to the generic muggle blood bank or see if there was a way for Dudley to come to Hogwarts. While the latter seemed excessive when there was no reason the blood bank could not work, it was also the one Severus felt the most comfortable going with for this incident. Given everything they'd learned tonight, who knew what could happen with Alton arranging a random blood donor? Again he was forced to make a decision that was being over complicated by the revelation about Alton's potential treachery.

"He needs it Severus," Madam Pomfrey confirmed, likely picking up on his hesitance not knowing it had to do with Alton's trust, "I've reviewed the test results as well. The fever hasn't lowered any further and I'm afraid he won't be able to fight this infection on his own much longer. I'd recommend we discussed the possibility of Harry's cousin coming for an extended visit."

The professor hadn't forgotten how he was supposed to discuss the idea of Dudley visiting Hogwarts with Albus over the summer, however this was not the circumstances he'd imagined for such a visit. Based on where Harry and Dudley had left their relationship after the attack and their continued correspondence over the rest of the summer holiday, Severus had no doubt that the other boy would be willing to help save his cousin's life yet again.

"Absolutely," the professor said confidently making the decision on the spot, "Poppy, can you make the arrangements with the headmaster for Dudley to visit? I trust you'll express the urgency in the matter."

"Of course Severus," she nodded and, after giving one more look at Harry in bed, she quickly left for Albus's office. With any luck Dudley would be here in a couple of hours and they could start the process as soon as possible.

"How are you doing Alton?" Severus asked his friend, trying to sound as casual as possible with the probing question. It had been a busy few days and checking in wouldn't seem completely out of the blue. "With everything going on these past several months, I've rarely asked you how you're handing it all. Something like this cannot be easy on you either as a healer and especially as a father. I was just thinking the other day that I don't know how you and Poppy do it."

"No Severus it's never easy," the healer replied, rubbing his hand down his face, "but it comes with the territory. Sometimes we win the hard fight and other times..."

Alton never finished his sentence as he trailed off. It was an interesting statement. Did Alton view them as losing this battle? Did he think Harry would not recover, and if not, was that part of his ultimate goal?

"Well, I've never thanked you properly," the professor continued, "I know Harry is not your typical patient type on many levels and you were really only doing me a favor testing him for the Leukemia in the first place. I appreciate you sticking with him, but I would also understand if you wanted to pass this onto another healer. If nothing else, you'll have more time to spend at home."

"Thank you Severus. I'd like to see this one through; he really is a remarkable young man. Doesn't that first appointment seems so long ago?" Alton smiled and it was almost his normal kind smile. In fact, for someone less observant than the former spy, they wouldn't notice a difference. Briefly Severus wondered if Draco had noticed any difference.

"That it does Alton," he paused reconsidering the next question he was tempted to ask. He refused to let his exhaustion cloud his judgement and he needed to ask it. The reaction could make all the difference in how he proceeded, "How is Mary doing these days? No lasting effects from her potions I hope."

Alton made no visible outward change to indicate anything out of the ordinary was happening; that was, nothing except for the small extra inhale he took at the sound of his daughter's name. Severus had conveniently said it early in the question to gauge Alton's reaction to it compared to the rest of the sentence. Now the professor had no doubt that the two muggles - Mary was too young for accidental magic so she would be assumed a muggle like her mother especially if Alton was not present - were Sarah and Mary Smithe. Now the question was why did the Dark Lord kidnap them in the first place? Was it as a punishment for Alton's lack of progress or was it to use them to better control Alton? The Dark Lord would imprison them differently, so knowing the reason behind their abduction would aid the Order in any rescue attempts in the near future. Severus hated how he knew that fact and he was determined to put it to good use now.

"They're well Severus. Sarah sends her best for both you and Harry," his friend replied in a soft voice, "Mary's having no issues at all; she's maintained her clean bill of health since her potions."

"That's good to hear," he was too tired for this charade no matter how necessary it was. "It seems like we'll be in for a long night. Go get some rest while you can; you look awful."

"Like you're one to talk Severus; I'm certain you never sleep," Alton said lightly, turning back towards Harry. "Call me as soon as you hear something about his cousin. I'll be back to collect and start the blood processing."

Once the healer had left and only Severus and Draco remained, neither Slytherin bothering to address the other initially.

"Isn't Potter's cousin a muggle?" Draco asked, almost insulted by the idea. At the end of the day, it would take Draco years to get past his anti-muggle upbringing. "How is he going to get into the castle?"

"What do you think happens if there is an emergency with a muggleborn student? Or how do you think muggle parents attend their child's graduation?" The professor asked with a layer of exhaustion to his voice. "Should Miss. Granger's parents not get to see her graduate simply because she is muggleborn?"

"Obviously I've had no reason to think about that," the teen said arrogantly. "At the rate the Golden Trio is going, they'll be lucky to make it to-"

One quick look at Severus's deathly stare and Draco didn't finish his sentence.

"The ability to allow select muggles into the castle lies with the headmaster," the professor explained, "I do not anticipate any issues in this case."

"Well there's no way Professor Dumbledore will let anything happen to Potter of all people."

"Don't be jealous Draco, it is unbecoming of you," Severus lectured leaning back in his plush chair and closing his eyes. "I'm sure Mr. Potter would be more than willing to give up his current predicament along with any presumed favoritism to just about anyone at the moment."

"Fine," Draco eventually conceded. They sat in an uncomfortable silence before Draco asked, "What's up with you and Potter? I can't see you going through all of this if it were only a job to you. It's almost as if you're taking this too... personally. No one would ever expect you to be standing up for the Boy-Who-Lived after the way you've treated him in class all these years."

"First it is none of your business," the professor said sternly sitting back up from his impromptu rest, "second, even if it were your business, you should avoid going around and making blanket accusations as you just did. Not only will you risk showing your hand prematurely, you may end up insulting the wrong type of person.

"And lastly, you should view every job as if your life depended on its success and as such, go above and beyond any effort you may think necessary."

The blonde Slytherin narrowed his eyes in doubt, "So this really is just a job to you?"

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, "You completely missed the point... It is none of your concern."

"I bet Potter gets tired of hearing that," Draco said snarkily, "because I know I do and I don't live with you full-time."

Severus was shaken awake by Madam Pomfrey. His body protested every moment of his waking and he was quickly reminded that he had yet to sleep in his bed since those early morning hours before he'd discovered Harry was ill. Without knowing how long the Gryffindor would continue to be this severely sick, he needed to commit to getting some kind of sleep back in his quarters. If not, even he had to admit his sanity would not last much longer.

It was dark in the hospital wing, likely the middle of the night, and it took him a second to process why the medi-witch was waking him up.

The blood transfusion and Dudley Dursley's visit.

"What did Albus say?" He asked impatiently as Poppy took the seat next to him; a yawn escaped him proving how tired he actually was.

"Albus has finished with the arrangements to allow Harry's cousin entrance and now he's heading to see if the boy will agree. It's a complicated situation given that the cousin is underage, but as Harry's last blood relative hopefully that will make it a bit easier," Poppy had a nervous energy surrounding her and again Severus questioned how she managed to keep her resolve in the career path she'd chosen. He would have long given up if he were in her position.

"Perfect," was all the defense professor could think to say. Picking up on the matron's questioning glare, he demanded, "Might as well get out whatever it is you wish to say."

Relieved with the transition and permission to continue, Madam Pomfrey asked, "What is going on with Healer Smithe? When Mr. Malfoy entered the hospital wing before you or the healer arrived, he demanded that I verify all of Harry's medications and I not leave Healer Smithe alone with the boy. I was just about to question Mr. Malfoy, but he said it was on your orders and then of course Alton arrived and I didn't want to draw any unwanted attention to the situation.

"I did what was asked of me since there was no harm in two sets of eyes, however if there's an issue in trusting Alton I best know about it now."

She sounded concerned, but not nearly as insulted as she had the right to be. Harry was as much her patient as Alton's and she's never held back when she thought her territory was getting threatened. Poppy has always been a silent member of the Order - working behind the scenes and rarely attended meetings - but Severus knew first hand that she was no less important in the war against the Dark Lord.

"We've discovered evidence that Alton may have been compromised," saying it out loud made the awful accusations all too real. "Albus has agreed that he's the best option we have right now for Harry, however we need to double check all of Alton's work and test results; without him realizing it of course."

It was a lot to ask from someone who wasn't used to espionage and stealth, but he knew she could pull it off. Poppy already demanded to know every piece of business going on with her students, making this not out of the realm for her normal personality. The best cover ups always started with a sliver of the truth.

"I can do it; don't you worry about that," she fussed at him. "I've been studying my own copies of muggle textbooks for a while now and I will make sure I'm completely familiar with everything that happens to Harry.

"You and I can work out a schedule so one of us is here at all times. You might also consider asking Molly to keep an eye and ear out too. I know she would have no problem helping out; Harry's as good as one of her own son's."

That was an option he hadn't considered, but he would run it by Albus. If told to keep a close eye on Harry, the Weasley matriarch would do it - no questions asked - so she wouldn't even need to know about Alton's subterfuge.

The professor was lost in his thoughts when the curtain was pulled back and walking into their little nook of hospital wing was Albus with Dudley partially hidden behind the man's extravagant purple robes. Dudley was far thinner than Severus remembered seeing him; a testament to how difficult losing his parents had been on the teen. He was wearing pyjamas and looked as if he'd recently been dead asleep, but of course he probably had as it was the middle of the night after all. His pale face gave way to the fact that Albus had likely apparated them both to Hogsmeade, which was disorienting the first time even to a wizard, and then adding the walk through the castle - with its moving staircases, snoring pictures, and random ghosts - and it was more than enough to scare a muggle like Dudley. Apart from all of that, it wasn't the primitive hospital wing, lanterns, nor anything else magical from the castle that held Dudley's attention at that time; it was Harry, who was still unconscious in the hospital bed, lines of medications and oxygen coming out from his small body.

"Hi Professor Snape," Dudley said, not even turning his head towards the professor as he walked out slowly from behind Albus and approached his cousin's bedside. With a quiver to his voice, he asked, to no one in particular, "What happened? Is he gonna be alright?"

Before Severus could answer, Albus approached Harry's cousin, "He has pneumonia and if you're willing to help him, he will be."

"Of course I'll help him," Dudley responded, clearly insulted by what the headmaster was insinuating. "Let's get this started."

While Severus hadn't expected any resistance from Dudley, he knew coming all the way to Hogwarts in the middle of the night was - at least at some point in the past - beyond the teen's level of comfort. Severus was grateful that the one person who could aid Harry through this was more than willing to do so even through his own discomfort. It was another example of how powerless Severus was; there wasn't a single thing he could actually do for Harry outside of keeping him safe from whatever Alton's intentions were with the young wizard.

If Alton, the Death Eaters, or even the Dark Lord himself thinks they'll get to Harry, they better prepare for a difficult fight.

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry was so tired of waking up with his body aching all over. It seemed like that was how he most often woke up lately, however this was far worse than most of those other times. His head was pounding into his ears, his throat was dry and sore, and each time he took a breath it still felt like a hippogriff was sitting on top of his chest. This was worse then the end of term last year when the leukemia had started and worse then when he'd started chemotherapy; this time he was sure he was dying.

Managing to crack his eyes open, Harry wasn't surprised when he couldn't make out a single thing in the room since it was not only blurry from his lack of glasses, it was also so dark it could only be in the middle of the night. A candle was set on top of the bedside table - flickering almost in tandem with his labored breaths - and he could tell there was at least one lantern lit somewhere in the room further away from wherever it was he slept.

Fear swept through his weak body as he took in the observations around him. Based on the feel of the bed and blanket where he was laying, he guessed pretty easily that he was in the hospital wing, as he'd been there plenty of times during his years at Hogwarts. Thinking back though, he had no idea why he was here - was he sick or hurt - how he had gotten here or how long he had been unconscious. Deciding he needed to get his glasses before trying to solve anything else, he reached towards the candle light and found that yet again he had an IV in both his right arm and his port, plus this time, something was pulling at his nose. Except now that he thought about it, the thing in his nose was helping him breathe just a little easier. All-in-all, none of this was a good sign.

What's the last thing I remember?

He didn't think it had been a chemo day, except he wasn't sure of anything anymore. Then he thought he remembered Hermione might have been over, but they hadn't been studying... his classes were cancelled? How long ago was all of that?

I was feeling sick that day. Not chemo-sick though... Ugh, I still feel sick.

Laying his head back against the pillow on his bed, Harry tried to fall back asleep unsure of the exact time and how long he had until dawn. Unfortunately, there wasn't a position he could lay in that would stop his head from pounding or help make his lungs breathe any better. He tossed and turned for what seemed like an hour before he heard a door open and someone speaking from the other side of the curtain.

"I don't see how that's possible," the deep voice of Snape said quietly.

"I can see to the arrangements and make it possible Severus," Albus said with a voice laced with sadness. "It's been this long, a couple more weeks will not make much difference in the long run."

Harry could feel a cough tickling at the back of his throat and tried to hold it off as long as possible because he wanted to know what the two professors were talking about. In the end, he couldn't hold it in and the still rough, wet cough could be heard echoing across the walls of the hospital wing followed closely by another two. He struggled to inhale after the final one and had to coax himself to calm down so the oxygen could finally reach his lungs. The curtain was then suddenly ripped open to reveal Snape and Dumbledore looking in on him as if they expected him to be asleep and quite possibly dead by now.

"Morning," Harry tried to say, however all that came out was a scratchy nonsense syllable. His throat felt like there was sandpaper scratching against the sides whenever he tried to speak.

Snape walked over to the bedside table and handed Harry his glasses. Without another word, he conjured a goblet and filled it with water, then helped to hold Harry up so he could get a good drink from it. The young wizard could feel the water entering almost every cell in his body as if he hadn't had anything to drink in days - which may very well have been the truth - and the lukewarm water felt like bliss coating his dry throat.

"Thank you," he said, his voice was still scratchy, but this time at least he could be heard. "What happened?"

Harry could see the relief in Snape's eyes and somehow he knew that while he'd been awake before, it wasn't enough to make a coherent sentence. Now though, he could sense something bad had happened to him to cause that reaction.

"You've been very sick Harry," Snape replied simultaneously waving his wand to run a diagnostic charm, which Harry distinctly felt the tickle of. "You've been more or less unconscious for thirteen days... It is the early morning hours of the 24th. How are you feeling?"

Thirteen days?!

That was the longest amount of time he'd ever lost at once and by saying "more or less unconscious" meant he had been awake at some point. How could he not remember any of it?

Gathering up as much energy as he could, the Gryffindor said, "I'm really sore... And it's hard to breathe. Where's Healer Smithe? What time is it?"

Harry wanted to ignore the look that passed between the two men over his bed; he got the feeling there was something going on. He pushed up carefully so he was sitting up in the bed and laid his head back hoping for a position that didn't hurt his insides.

"Your healer, Madam Pomfrey, and Professor Snape have been rotating their care of you," Dumbledore explained sitting in the chair to the left of Harry's bed, "Professor Snape has exclusively taken the overnights; it's about three in the morning right now. I must say Harry, it is a great relief to see you up and speaking."

Harry nodded, what else was he supposed to do in a situation like this? The tickle on the diagnostic charm had finished and Snape was looking pleased with the results.

"Everything looks normal given what you went through," he said sitting down - clearly exhausted himself - in the chair. "What is the last thing you remember?"

"Erm..." Even after Harry had just gone through this in his own mind, he had a hard time recalling what it was he remembered last. "Hermione was over... But I don't think we were studying."

"No you would not have been," Snape confirmed, "I had cancelled all of your classes that day. Do you remember how you were feeling?"

"Sick... I definitely felt sick that day," the young wizard remembered, "I had a hard time breathing and was wondering why I was so bad when it wasn't even a day I had chemo. Or at least I don't think I did-"

"You had pneumonia," the dark haired professor interrupted with a tremble in his voice. "We had never discussed the importance of notifying me when you were feeling ill in a way different than the chemotherapy side effects. You needed a blood transfusion for additional white blood cells in order to fight off the infection, and even that did not work the first time."

"M Sorry sir," Harry mumbled; he didn't know why he felt embarrassed about the situation, it wasn't like he did it on purpose.

In fact, his brain was still fuzzy on the details, but he thought he had gone to Snape when he realized he wasn't feeling well. It was hard to keep everything straight in his head and it didn't help that his eyes were getting heavy again. If Snape was doing the night shift now, he would be asleep when Harry woke up and he really didn't want to miss speaking to the professor. In the end though, he couldn't keep his eyes open and he was enveloped into the darkness.

"...was awake..."

"Shhhh..."

Harry could hear the distinct murmuring of his two best friends around him as his brain was coming out of the clouds and back into consciousness. His body was still aching and his chest was still tight, yet somehow he felt better overall. Through his eyelids, he could see the bright sunlight filtering in from the window above his head and it was almost reenergizing to him. As he was attempting to open his eyes, he heard another voice he recognized and never expected to hear by his bedside in the Hogwarts' hospital wing.

"Don't you both have class right now?"

It was Dudley... Talking to his two best friends as if he'd known them forever, meaning somehow in the last two weeks, his two worlds had officially collided. Gaining enough strength he opened his eyes, squinting against the bright September sunlight.

"Aren't you in the wrong school?" Harry asked certain only a fraction could actually be heard from his cracked voice. Sitting up on his left elbow - his IV was in the right arm - he reached over for his glasses. As always, Hermione beat him to it and placed them on his face for him.

"It's nice to see you actually awake for once," she said sitting down on his bed and grabbing his hand. "We were all so worried about you."

"I'm fine 'Mione," he said, trying his hardest to reassure the witch without knowing for sure that he was actually going to be fine. He still didn't really know what had happened, only that he had pneumonia.

"I don't know about that Mate," Ron spoke up, "you haven't really been all with it in almost two weeks. Sure you've been conscious here and there, but you weren't really here...if y'know what I mean."

"Great explanation Ron," he tried to laugh, but ended up in a coughing fit instead. Once he recovered, Harry turned to Dudley and asked, "How'd you get here? What's going on?"

"Oh," Dudley turned bright red, "Um, your headmaster came to get me the second night you were sick."

Harry closed his eyes focusing on the words he had heard. Did Dudley really drop everything just to come to Hogwarts - in Scotland - because Harry was ill?

"Harry," Hermione said softly, drawing his attention back towards her, "Dudley donated blood for you. Professor Snape refused to allow an unknown donor and he was a match. You actually needed blood several times and each one came from your cousin."

The small teenager could feel his breath shaking every time he exhaled. Dudley hadn't just come to see Harry, he saved his life... and more than once. Now he was sitting in a castle full of magic talking to two of the people Harry cared about most. It was like he woke up in a different world... which reminded him-

"Where's Severus?"

This time Ron managed to keep his cool at the use of Snape's given name. What had happened while he was sick?

"He's probably sleeping," his cousin responded confidently. "We don't know what's going on... they always have someone on watch and Professor Snape took all the night shifts. I think the only way he'd leave this chair to sleep was if he went during the day while there were plenty of other people to stay with you. He'd never leave your side otherwise."

Ron and Hermione were both nodding their heads. As if there wasn't already a lot to take in, at that moment Madam Pomfrey stuck her head around the curtain.

"Ah, Mr. Potter!" She exclaimed pushing Hermione unceremoniously out of his bed, "Severus and the headmaster said you had woken up last night; it's good to see you myself."

She immediately started fussing around him, waving her wand every which way running all different types of diagnostic spells and checking the bags of medication on the IV stand. Harry almost laughed at all the different tickles that ran through his body; most being focused on his lungs. He managed to hold back simply because he didn't want to end up in a coughing fit again.

"Aren't you two supposed to be in classes?" The medi-witch asked, to the other Gryffindors.

"Professor McGonagall excused us from them today on account of Harry waking up," Hermione said to which Madam Pomfrey simply huffed.

Harry knew he must have been very sick if Hermione skipped classes just because he woke up. He could see Ron jumping at the chance, however Hermione would normally have waited until a free period or maybe even after classes to visit.

"How much longer will I need to stay here?" He knew it was premature to ask, showing just how much he hated staying in the hospital wing.

"Since you came very close to dying at least twice in these last thirteen days, I should keep you here until that cough is completely gone," she lectured and Harry's eyes widened. He had a feeling she was serious about it this time and that the cough could still take a while to go away.

"I'm going to call Healer Smithe and let him know you've woken up," the medi-witch explained. Harry thought she sounded hesitant, but he brushed it off. "Why don't you three head down for lunch?"

It was not a suggestion. However, that didn't stop Ron from attempting to convince her that they should stay, "I think we should be allowed to eat here; he just woke up!"

One look from the stern matron told them all they needed to know, and the three teenagers left with a promise to come right back after lunch. Madam Pomfrey followed the three visitors out from around the curtain, leaving just enough open for Harry to see out across the room. He inhaled rapidly at the sight of Ginny sitting up in bed working on her school assignments. This was the first time he'd gotten to see her awake and he wanted nothing more than to go over to her and apologize for everything she went through. The only problem was that with the IVs and the oxygen he wasn't sure exactly how to get there, plus having been unconscious for 13 days he wasn't sure he physically had the strength to get there either. Not only that, he was 100% sure Madam Pomfrey would have a fit over him getting out of bed so soon.

"Why good morning Harry!" Healer Smithe's voice was a welcome break from the thoughts running rampant in his head. His healer walked in followed very closely by Madam Pomfrey.

"Morning," he sheepishly replied, "or I guess it's afternoon."

Healer Smithe laughed and went to work adjusting Harry's IVs. Madam Pomfrey had a small notebook and was looking over everything as if she were his apprentice. Maybe she would be taking a more active role as his treatments progressed?

That brought his thoughts back to the leukemia. If he had been asleep for two weeks, he had probably missed two of his treatments. Even worse, he should have been doing the last chemo for phase one of consolidation; meaning he'd literally lost almost two weeks worth of progress - a thought that thoroughly depressed him.

Healer Smithe and Madam Pomfrey went through everything that had happened medically to him since he contracted the pneumonia. His blood counts had reached back up to an acceptable level- for him anyway - which led into an explanation about the blood transfusions. They thoroughly explained why Dudley was brought to Hogwarts and how his cousin had asked to stay at least until Harry was recovered from the pneumonia. Neither adult mentioned anything about his chemotherapy schedule nor his cancer in general.

Once all the medical updates and tests were completed, Madam Pomfrey brought Harry a tray with a bowl of chicken broth and bread for lunch. Even though it had been long enough since his last chemo to where he should have been at least a little hungry, he still wasn't and had to force himself to eat the broth. Maybe once all of this was over he would get at least one good meal before chemotherapy started again.

As promised, Ron, Hermione, and Dudley came back after they had lunch in the Great Hall. Harry didn't want to admit this to anyone yet, but he was extremely happy to see Dudley again and proud of the other teen for stepping up to help Harry. It was only a couple of months ago when Harry was sure Dudley would have left him to die before venturing to Hogwarts.

"Oh Harry!" Ron called out during a chess game he had started with Dudley; something Hermione said they had gotten used to playing in the time Dudley had been at Hogwarts, "We have Quidditch tryouts on Sunday!"

Harry laughed at Ron's excitement, "I kind of thought it was obvious that I can't play this year Ron." While Harry had come to terms with the limitations that would be set upon him this year, he knew Ron previously had a more difficult time coming to terms with it all.

"I know that," the red-headed mumbled quietly, "I just thought... maybe you'd like to still come and watch."

Harry contemplated what Ron was asking. On the one hand, he was still technically immunocompromised and was still recovering from pneumonia; where he stood today there was no way Snape was letting him out of their quarters, let alone out of the castle. On the other hand, by Sunday he might be able to convince the man to let him out for just a little while on the premise that his blood counts were positive and it would be good for his mental health. He doubted they'd be doing chemo on Saturday, so it was really the last chance before that all started again.

"I'll ask Severus once I have a better idea of what's going on with my chemo schedule," Harry explained with an enthusiasm in him caused from at least having a chance to go outside... no matter how minuscule it was.

"Dudley, where are you sleeping while you're staying at the castle? You're not taking my spot in the tower are you?" Harry was joking, of course, and it felt refreshing to do so.

"Not at all," his cousin replied, "I'm in some kind of guest quarters around the corner. It's where Ron's mum stayed for a while."

Oh.

Harry had forgotten about that. Thinking about Ginny dampened his mood a little. At some point he'd have to talk to her about everything that had gone on; so much had happened since then and he really wanted to forget about it all at the same time.

"So what do you do all day?" The young wizard asked Dudley; clearly he couldn't attend any courses here. "Like when everyone else has been in class?"

"Professor Dumbledore has me helping out in Professor Burbage's classes," Dudley answered, making a chess move even Harry recognized was not a good one, especially against Ron. This would be a quick game.

"Muggle studies?"

Dudley shook his head and then started talking about all the different ways he's been assisting in the class. Having never taken Muggle Studies, it was actually really interesting to hear and Harry was sure Uncle Vernon was rolling over in his grave; Aunt Petunia would have likely been ok with it, if only for Dudley's sake. No matter how pathetic Harry thought it was, it hurt him to think about how different his upbringing would have been had Dudley randomly gotten a letter from Hogwarts. Aunt Petunia might have finally accepted Harry, and as his blood relative, she was really the only one that mattered to him. The exhaustion was catching up with Harry and without even realizing it, the young wizard had fallen asleep mid-conversation with his cousin.

During his impromptu nap, Harry dreamed about restarting classes and trying to stay caught up with the material. In his dream, he was relieved that it seemed all the other students had already known about his cancer and mostly let him be. He could only hope for his real transition back to classes went as smooth as his dream had been.

Then the dream morphed right into one about attending a Quidditch match where he was clearly sick from post chemotherapy, but was determined to sit in the stands with Hermione and Dudley to cheer on his team - with Ginny having replaced him as their seeker. Somewhere on top of all the visual aspects of his dreams, he could hear the words " love him Lily... Like he's still my son" whispered almost inaudibly. He'd heard that at some point, but couldn't place when. They were such bittersweet dreams to be immersed in that he never wanted to wake up until he could go back to classes again and feel just a little bit more normal.

Harry ended up staying in the hospital wing through the end of the week. Since Snape refused to stop taking the night shift on whatever "Harry Watch" the Order was requiring while he was there, the Gryffindor had seen very little of the man, startling him for complicated reasons. Most of his days were spent working on school work that he'd missed, with each of tutors stopping by for truncated lessons each day; sleeping; or hanging out with Dudley who seemed more than a little excited to be around all the magic, genuinely surprising Harry. Ron and Hermione stopped by every night after dinner and the four of them would either continue studying or simply get caught up on what had happened in the two weeks Harry missed.

On Friday afternoon, Healer Smithe performed another bone marrow biopsy to see if any of the Leukemia had re-emerged from missing the two weeks of chemotherapy. Harry absolutely hated the bone marrow biopsies and was not looking forward to more of them in his future. The Gryffindor was alarmed to think that it was possible for the cancer cells to take over so quickly again and he vowed to try everything he could to stay healthy - even if it meant wearing that stupid mask - going forward so this might not happen again. The absolute last thing he wanted was to have to go backwards in his recovery.

He also found himself wondering - for the first time since his diagnosis - what would happen when all of this was over. When he had his last chemotherapy three years from now and he took his last tablet medication, how long would it take before he could relax and truly believe the cancer was gone? Could they even say for sure the cancer was gone? He knew all the statistics, but those didn't ease the anxiety he was feeling about how unknown his future was. He had a feeling he would be plagued with worry for a long time after everything was over, if he were lucky enough to make it that far.

On Friday evening, once he was ready to go back down to Snape's quarters, he finally had the chance to talk to Ginny. They'd caught glimpses of each other through the curtains all week and Mrs. Weasley had relayed important messages back and forth, but they had not gotten a chance to actually talk to each other.

Now that Harry was no longer connected to the oxygen and the IVs, he walked over to Ginny's bed and sat down in the chair that Mrs. Weasley usually used. The Gryffindor witch was sitting up in her bed that was covered in parchment and textbooks. While most of Ginny's injuries had healed, she still had a dark purple scar that ran the length of her cheek from where the awful cut had been. It would be a permanent reminder of this horrible ordeal she had to go through all because of Harry.

"Hey stranger," the young witch said smiling at him and then boldly reaching out to straighten his cap, "seems like you've had a rough start to the school year too."

Harry was embarrassed; this was his first time seeing her since the Leukemia diagnosis and starting chemotherapy, "I'd rather not talk about that if it's ok with you."

"Yeah, of course," Ginny said awkwardly. She was hesitant to bring up anything else, afraid it would make her friend feel worse about himself and his situation.

"I'm so sorry Ginny," Harry had said it to her every time he'd come to visit her during the week before the muggle fight with Ron took place, but it felt better to say it when he knew she could hear him; so she could truly understand how bad he felt about the whole thing.

"Harry," Ginny replied in a demanding way he should not have been surprised to hear. She took a hold of his left hand and Harry thought about how soft it felt in his own, "Just don't, ok? I'm going to tell you not to blame yourself and you're going to want to anyways. I know exactly how you think, so let's just skip all that. I'm going to be alright."

Harry couldn't really deny what she was saying, he would probably continue to blame himself. Yes, he'd heard it time and time again that he didn't cause anything, however that didn't change the fact that the Death Eaters had been trying to find him, and it was enough.

Instead, they chatted idly about the new school year; how Ginny was already behind the year of her O.W.L.s and she wasn't sure how she would be able to catch up and Harry could understand that. When they were deep in a conversation about if Gryffindor had any chance of winning the Quidditch cup without Harry as the seeker, Healer Smithe came into the hospital wing going straight into Madam Pomfrey's office, with Snape directly on his heels asking Harry to follow him to the floo, where they both headed back to dungeons.

To Harry, arriving back in the dungeons felt like going home; even more so than when he had arrived back at Hogwarts each of the previous years. It was a new feeling for Harry and a very confusing feeling at the same time. Now he was able to admit to himself that this was his home - at least until he was no longer a Hogwarts student - for as long as Snape would let him live there.

While he'd been getting stronger each day and it was slowly getting easier to breathe, the young wizard sat down on the familiar sofa almost prepared to take a nap. His eyes were closing and his brain was getting a little foggy, when Snape gave Harry a stern look which told him he needed to pay attention to what was going on. Working against his body's urge to sleep, Harry sat up on the sofa to focus.

The floo roared to life several times, filling the small sitting room with - in addition to himself and Snape - Madam Pomfrey, Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Healer Smithe. Something about the atmosphere felt good to Harry and while the news could go either way, his intuition said this was going to be good news.

"Your blood work is looking great Harry," the healer said, starting out straight away once everyone was seated. "The blood transfusion was a success and your cell counts are continuing to increase at a rate we'd expect."

Harry couldn't contain his smile. Finally something was going right and he had Dudley to thank for it. A fact that still amazed him days after its discovery.

"I also have the results from your bone marrow biopsy we did this afternoon," the healer pulled out several pieces of paper and handed them around to everyone. As usual, Harry had no idea what it meant and he wondered if Dumbledore or McGonagall were also just as clueless. Snape, on the other hand, took a half a glance at the results and nodded his head.

How much studying on Leukemia has Snape actually done?

"Unlike the one we did after induction, this time we are simply looking to make sure the numbers aren't returning," the healer continued, "And I'm happy to say you're still in remission, so it appears if we've lost any time, it's minimal. At this point I'm not recommending any additional rounds added to the first consolidation phase."

This news almost made Harry happier than when they won the Quidditch cup in his third year. He had spent the last four days worrying in his head that he had gone backwards and that wasn't the case at all! Harry turned towards Snape and saw the same sight of relief in the man's black eyes. The professor had been just as concerned as Harry had and that thought warmed the Gryffindor from the inside; he wasn't alone in all of this.

"So what's next?" The youngest wizard asked jumping straight in with a new found energy. "I still have three weeks of the first consolidation right?"

"That is correct," Healer Smithe said, handing out yet another paper; his revised chemotherapy schedule. "You'll restart consolidation with the IT plus five hours next Saturday, the 5th of October followed by the three days of the four hour IV chemotherapy Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. Those are the hardest on you, so do try to remember that it will be the last of those medications until near the end of phase 3. The following two Saturdays, you'll do the IT plus one hour, putting the end of your first part of consolidation on the 19th of October."

"Can I go back to classes after that?" Harry asked impatiently. Knowing it would be a big adjustment to restart classes and he had a lot of catching up to do in the next three weeks, he was still ready to get back to his normal life.

"We'll keep an eye on your blood counts, but I'm penciling in the 28th to restart classes," Harry's heart dropped. That was almost an extra ten days. "The next phase of consolidation - also known as interim maintenance - will start on Friday the 25th. We'll go through the exact timetable as we get closer, however since these will be spaced out more and have less of a chance to drop your blood cells, I expect you'll start feeling more like yourself sometime in November."

That was music to Harry's ears... at least until an equally terrifying thought entered his mind.

Do I even know what that was?

"Will he be able to go back to Gryffindor tower?" It was Professor McGonagall who asked. Harry could only imagine the questions and inquiries she had to be receiving on an ongoing basis. The problem was, when he had thought about going back to classes he had always still imagined himself living with Snape here in the dungeons.

"That will be the time to start getting back to normal life or as close as possible to normal," the healer explained, not really answering the question either way, "you need to understand that he'll still be considered immunocompromised, just not necessarily at the level he is now. Plus it's not abnormal for cancer patients to have a difficult time with adjusting back into 'normal life'. What I'm trying to say is, that it's really up to how comfortable Harry feels about it."

That would be something else for Harry to consider; for now he was going to relish in the fact that there would come a day when he was going to be closer to his normal self again. And that day was so close, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like.

Harry was back in his bedroom Friday night; comfortable for the first time since waking up in the hospital wing four days ago. While he had been exhausted when he had arrived back into their quarters, he was now filled with eagerness about the idea of an easier chemo schedule to look forward to.

"Come in," he called when there was a solid knock on the door. Somehow Snape must have known he would still be awake.

"I thought you'd still be up. That was some exciting news you received," the professor said while walking into the bedroom and sitting down as he usually did at the desk. He had a somber stride to his walk and Harry knew bad news was coming. "There's something we need to discuss."

The Gryffindor's heart rate increased. What happened while he was unconscious? Was it another attack? He wasn't sure he'd be able to handle another person hurt or dying because of him.

"Ok... what happened?" The young wizard asked in a quiet, tentative voice urging the professor to continue.

"Have you remembered anything else from the day you got sick?"

That was such a random question, Harry had to think twice about it. When nothing else came to him, he shook his head "no".

"Well, something did happen that night," Snape said, taking a deep breath, trying to brace himself. "I said something that - taken out of context, as it was that night - could be interpreted completely wrong."

Is he apologizing for something I don't even remember?

"I don't understand. I don't remember anything happening between us sir," Harry said casually, "so does it even really matter much?"

"Yes Harry, it does," the professor explained confidently, "someday you might remember and if I'm not honest with you now, then it will be infinitely worse then."

That made sense, but it didn't make hearing about it any easier. Whatever could make Snape, of all people, this nervous was bound to be something bad. Deciding the professor was ultimately right about it being worse later, Harry nodded his head.

"I had just found out something - unrelated to your illness - that distressed me greatly... And Professor McGonagall stopped by for tea," the professor ignored Harry's chuckle, "she was asking how I was handling everything and I... I yelled..."

Snape paused so long Harry had assumed that was his big reveal, "No offense sir, but I've heard you yell before... at me plenty of times. Don't get me wrong, it's terrifying, but nothing that would really bother me."

"Harry," he continued, "it was what I yelled that is the issue. I said that regardless of how hard I'm trying, you were going to die. I did not mean how it came out at all."

Harry felt his heart clenching in his chest and his stomach felt like the floor dropped out from under him; that was a lot harder to hear then he had anticipated. How could Snape say that after everything they'd gone through? Worse yet, did he really believe it?

"I promise you Harry, I am doing everything I can to make sure that does not happen," the professor replied calmly, "no matter what I have to do, I will make sure you survive this."

"You said all that to Professor McGonagall?"

"Yes," Snape said, lowering his head in what Harry assumed was shame.

"I think it too sometimes," the young wizard admitted slowly. How could he not think that at least once, as he was sitting in the lavatory turning his stomach inside out, or trying to avoid the burning pain in his core, or even any of the other side effects he's experienced that he hadn't told Snape about - like the sores he sometimes gets in his mouth or the way his hands sometimes hurt both of which are common side effects according to Healer Smithe. "I know that chemotherapy isn't guaranteed to work; that I can go through all of this and die in the end anyways. I don't like when I think like that... some days it's harder than others not to. And if I think like that, then frankly, I know you - and probably everyone else - are bound to think it too."

"You are way too forgiving," Snape replied in disbelief of what he'd just heard.

"I think I've heard that at least once or twice," Harry gave a small smile to his mentor, "Besides, I think you're too hard on yourself."

"I've heard that a couple of times too. Thank you Harry," Snape went to stand up and leave, pausing when Harry grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Wait..." Harry stated loudly, "I have something to ask you."

Snape sat back down without another word, raising one eyebrow to signal for Harry to continue.

Now's as good of time as any to ask.

"Erm," the young wizard nervously stalled, "Do you think I can go to the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts on Sunday?"

It felt odd for Harry to have to ask for permission about something like this, but he'd pretty much come to terms with it all. Snape was practically his parent, more so than even Professor McGonagall and she was his official guardian.

"Are you asking now since you think I will say yes simply because I feel guilty about what I said about you?" The professor narrowed his eyes at Harry, challenging his motives.

"Maybe..." he said in a sly, yet playful manner. "Isn't that what teenagers usually do to their parents?"

It slipped out so quickly and smoothly that Harry almost didn't notice he'd said it - that out loud he had referred to Snape as his parent - until he saw the look on Snape's face. It was a combination of fear and happiness that the Gryffindor had never seen before on this man. Harry felt himself immediately flush feeling far more vulnerable then he ever had in his life.

"I..." Harry started unsure what to tell Snape. He was going to say he didn't mean it, except that wasn't true and he knew Snape wouldn't believe him anyways. So instead he went with, "I'm sorry, it just slipped out."

"It is fine," Snape said and an uncomfortable silence sat between them. "And I'm sure something can be arranged for Sunday if you really want to be there. I've been working on some new charms and spells to help keep the areas around you clean."

"Thank you sir," Harry said, still embarrassed about his slip of tongue, yet quite impressed that Snape had been working on ways to prevent him from becoming ill. Again, it was something a father would do for his child.

Snape nodded and stood up slowly getting ready to walk out the door. With a smirk on his face he said to Harry, "And yes, teenagers do that to their parents all of the time. It will not always work with me. Good night Harry."

Feeling lighter than he had in years, Harry smiled and said, "Good night Severus."

~~~~SS~~~~

Thirteen days. Thirteen long and grueling days Harry remained mostly unconscious and fighting his way through the pneumonia. Now that he was getting better - a little more each day - and back home, Severus could start to sort through the complicated mess he had been left in prior to and during the pneumonia.

They had basically put a hold on any further investigation into Alton's activities with the Dark Lord, outside of having him under a constant guard of either Poppy, Albus, Minerva, or himself. Given their constant rotation and Poppy's casual request for more hands-on assistance with Harry's medication and procedures, he thought they did a fantastic job at keeping Alton in the dark on it all and keeping Harry safe at the same time. Harry's cousin threw them all off the broom, so to say, when he asked to stay at least until Harry recovered from the pneumonia. Somehow, Severus just knew that the boy would probably end up staying at least through the Christmas holidays. As long as Dudley would not be staying in Severus's quarters and he behaved towards Harry, it would be alright with the professor.

None of that mattered much tonight because Harry called him a parent... No, Harry called him his parent. Granted it was said accidentally, however that also meant Harry had been thinking about - perhaps going as far as accepting - the idea previously. Since waking up in this reality he'd questioned many times if he'd made the right decision; now he was confident it was the right thing to do. He was going to get Harry through the cancer and then he would find a way for both of them to survive this war.

Severus was just about to head off to bed when his floo roared and Albus's head was seen floating in the fireplace. From this location in his quarters, the former spy could choose to ignore the Headmaster's call and the other wizard would be none the wiser. Instead, he found himself walking over towards his employer.

"Yes Albus?" Severus called, "it's a little late for a social call is it not?"

"Ah Severus," the elderly wizard replied as if he were surprised who had answered, "may I come through?"

In response, Severus stood aside to allow the headmaster entry into his sitting room. Instantly, Albus walked out of the fireplace without even a hint of soot on his navy blue robes. For the first time, the man appeared appropriately dressed with crescent moons covering his robes.

"This could not wait for the morning because..." The defense professor trailed off clearly indicating he expected an answer.

"I'm afraid I owe an explanation to Healer Smithe about why I have been withholding Harry's magical records," Albus explained taking a seat in the armchair across from where Severus had just sat, "I have my ways of knowing that he plans to be at my office first thing tomorrow morning. We need to discuss how to proceed, my boy."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the former spy remembered that he had yet to mention the magical aptitude test to Harry. The Gryffindor obviously could not participate unconscious with pneumonia, therefore it had been rescheduled to the day prior to his next chemotherapy treatment. Theoretically, that would be his strongest day as it would be the longest from his last treatment.

"Let's assume the Dark Lord knows about the Leukemia," the former spy started deducing based on his observations and experience in Voldemort's presence. "Somehow - though it wouldn't be difficult in Alton's presence - the Dark Lord figured out that Harry was Alton's patient. Therefore, being blatantly honest, if Alton had not told the Dark Lord about it, he would be dead. Ergo, he has to know about the cancer.

"Now this is where it gets complicated. His knowledge of the cancer probably means he knows about the chemotherapy, and even further down the pipeline is knowing about Harry's magical core issue. I cannot see Alton volunteering both of those pieces of information on a normal basis. However after his wife and daughter were kidnapped, it would be a good motivator to tell the truth of what was happening to his patient."

"So then I must deny the request," Albus simply stated, peering over his half-moon spectacles. "He cannot know the level to which Harry's magical core is depleting. It would be detrimental to the whole wizarding world."

Especially because Harry's magic doesn't appear to be depleting.

"I don't completely agree. I feel that would actually work to our advantage," Severus explained, thinking quickly. He had to explain to Albus about Harry's unintentional magic, except another idea jumped to the forefront of his mind. "What if we falsify his records?"

"What good would that do for us Severus?" The headmaster was skeptical at best, yet he allowed his professor the opportunity to elaborate.

"Harry is - or he was - doing very controlled magic unintentionally. My suspicion is we will find his magic has strengthened, instead of weakened. Minerva is doing some light reading to find out if and how that's possible."

Albus's eyes were moving back and forth as he went through each scenario. "If this is true, it is information we do not want Tom finding out."

"My thoughts exactly," the defense professor agreed. "If we were to falsify his records with a student stronger than Harry, we can then give the impression he's losing his magical core. In reality he'll be getting stronger."

Severus hated the idea of essentially using Harry as bait, but if nothing else, it would be a distraction to the Dark Lord; plus they could protect him from finding out the truth. Albus was silent considering the idea proposed. In the end, it was more important to prevent Voldemort from finding out about Harry's potentially stronger magic then about his failing magic.

"Ok Severus," the elderly wizard responded after a moment. "I'll swap Harry's previous record with yours for Alton's review and then after each assessment, you, Minerva, and myself will compare to his regular records. I want to closely monitor this 'unintentional magic' as you call it."

"Mine?!" The defense professor asked, questioningly completely ignoring the other statements. "Surely there is a better ranked student you could select."

"Oh I disagree," the headmaster answered with a smile, "I do not know many other sixth year students who were creating spells on his own; many of which are still used today by the general wizarding community - both recreationally and professionally I might add."

What else could he say to that? It was all true, though Severus would never admit so out loud. There would be no way the Dark Lord would ever know it was his previously loyal servant that was being used and if it ever got out, there wasn't any more risk to himself or Harry.

Nodding his approval, Severus then leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees and cradled his head in his hand. It was pitiful that plans as these had to be made in the first place. Yet again, the professor found himself wanting to pick up and run away with Harry. It had been a long thirteen days and nights, the stress of which was getting to him. Harry was not the only one jubilant to hear that there could be a time where the Gryffindor would start to feel like his old self. The professor would even put up with the defiant teenager now just to have some sense of normalcy.

Of course that led his mind down another winding path... He had only bonded with Harry because of these extreme circumstances, what would happen as Harry started getting back to his normal life? This Harry's normal life was a whole lifetime different from Severus's normal one. What would happen between them both in the classroom and outside of it, especially if - or when - Harry ended up back in Gryffindor tower?

"You are deep in thought, my boy," Albus commented whimsically. Somehow he'd forgotten the older man was still in his sitting room.

"Simply questioning what life will look like after all of this," he told his mentor honestly; feeling a weight lifted off of his shoulders as he admitted that simple statement. Perhaps Minerva and Alton were correct when they'd suggested he speak to a mind healer.

"Remember Severus, sometimes it takes a painful experience to make us change our ways," Albus said, his eyes twinkling as he looked towards Harry's bedroom. "I think you will find things will not be nearly as confusing as you fear they will be, my boy."

~~~~HP~~~~

Come Sunday morning, Harry was rejuvenated simply from the excitement of getting to go outside and see the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts that afternoon. The sun was shining through his enchanted window onto his bed and it looked like it was going to be a perfect day for it; not only because there was no way Snape would let him go if it were raining, but also for the students that would be flying. Katie Bell - who he had recently found out was captain this year - would say it was beneficial to test out the new prospects in the dreadful rainy weather, however Harry really didn't care about that at the moment if it meant he might be able to attend.

The only real lingering symptom - besides fatigue which was more normal for him than not - leftover from the pneumonia was the cough and Healer Smithe said it could last for the next several weeks. Until it was gone, every time he coughed it was a horrible reminder to both himself and Snape about the pneumonia and the two weeks Harry spent practically unconscious. As the young wizard got ready for the day, he hoped the lingering cough wouldn't lower his chances of Snape allowing him to go to the Quidditch pitch, at least for an hour; just enough to get some fresh air and sunshine.

The Gryffindor had been too afraid to jinx the whole thing, so he hadn't actually asked Snape about it at all yesterday, instead deciding to play it cool and simply worked through his mountain of school work he still had to catch up on. Even with the full day dedicated to his studies, he still would probably bring his muggle notebook, pens, and one of his textbooks to work from the Quidditch stands. No matter how hard he tried, there was no way he'd be able to get caught up before tutoring started again tomorrow. With a little of Hermione's help, he hoped to at least be able to understand the materials they'd be going over during the week and move quickly through his courses as time progressed.

In an effort to think positively, Harry came out for breakfast dressed in his Gryffindor Quidditch jumper, jeans, and a matching Gryffindor hat, as he knew his head would be cold regardless of how nice it looked outside. He had no doubt that if Snape wasn't going to let him go in the first place, then dressing in his Quidditch jumper would do nothing to change his mind, however it was worth a try. Snape was already in the kitchen drinking his usual cup of morning coffee while reading through a book Harry couldn't even guess the subject based on the cover; his plate of breakfast in front of him hardly touched.

"You can't tell me you miss cooking now that school started back," Harry commented casually taking his usual seat closest to the door. His plate was already full with scrambled eggs, bacon, and buttered toast, along with a glass of juice, a glass of water, and his morning medications beside it. Apparently Snape was set on getting him back to normal eating this week.

"That depends," the professor replied, lifting his eyes from the text he was reading, obviously about to come back with a sarcastic comment until he saw Harry's clothing. He narrowed his eyes.

"Depends on what?" The Gryffindor asked, ignoring the pointed stare from Snape. Picking up a small bite of egg on his fork, he took an exaggerated bite.

"You look... festive this morning," the professor dryly answered.

Harry peered down at his jumper and shrugged; he wasn't about to let Snape's dour attitude pull him down today. If he did, he would probably end up lingering on how nervous he was to see his housemates again and he refused to let that damper his day.

"You are fully aware that you are still recovering from pneumonia while being immunocompromised, correct?" The professor precisely questioned.

"Pretty sure I can't forget something like that sir," the teenager replied without missing a beat. "But you said Friday night that you have a way to help clean the area around me, so I thought..."

"I do," Snape said going back to his reading. "I just want you to remember to keep your distance from people and stay warm. If it goes longer than two hours, Miss. Granger or your cousin had better return you to the castle."

Harry smiled; that sounded like a yes. Now if he could only keep his nerves in line until after lunch when the tryouts started.

"Thank you Severus," Harry said, continuing to eat the rest of his breakfast.

"You are welcome Harry," the professor said thoughtfully. "If it's no difference to you, I'll walk you down to the pitch to get the area clean and then you can come back with whichever combination of Gryffindor's already know the location of our quarters."

Huh...

Harry hadn't thought about coming back to the dungeons. He doubted he would be able to find the hidden door again, but trusted that at least Hermione and Neville would know because they needed to come for tutoring; though the latter probably wouldn't be at the Quidditch tryouts nor would he voluntarily enter the dungeons. Either way, if it came down to it he could always go up to the hospital wing and he was sure Madam Pomfrey would let him floo back down here.

"That's fine sir," Harry was late to reply as he contemplated his return to their quarters. Then he added, "Will you teach Hermione the new spell? This way she can help when I go back to classes?"

The Gryffindor could see the wheels turning in Snape's head as he considered this idea. Statistically speaking, Harry was bound to have a good idea every so often, not that Snape would ever admit to such an occurrence though.

"Of course," the professor agreed, "I'm certain Miss. Granger would have no issues learning it quickly. Now, until it's time to go down to the pitch, you're to continue your studying."

Excitedly, Harry nodded then went back to finishing his breakfast. Trying not to focus on how long the next several hours were going to creep by, he turned his attention to the book Snape was fanatically reading. The front was black with gold lettering written in a script he couldn't decipher from his position in the kitchen - most likely not a coincidence either.

"You could simply ask me," Snape said, flipping a page casually, then writing something down on the parchment to his right.

Shaking his head debating on if he wanted to take the bait, Harry decided to ask, "What are you reading?"

The professor placed the book down on the table appearing surprised that the young wizard had actually asked him after all. He raised one eyebrow then said, "It's a book on genealogy. Also known as the study of family histories and tracing of one's lineage."

I wonder if my family's in there? Harry questioned to himself. Surely at least the Potter's would be listed since they supposedly had a long history in the wizarding world. There was no way he was going to ask about it though.

What family history would Snape be interested in studying?

"Wizarding or muggle families?" The Gryffindor asked, "I'm assuming they keep those records separate."

"You would assume correct," Snape answered picking the book back up and reading through the page he had opened to, "however one should never assume; instead you should make an educated guess."

Giving a hard sigh, Harry finished the last of his buttered toast - making a dramatic effort to show Snape he had eaten - and took his medicine before getting up to start cleaning his plate at the kitchen sink.

It took Harry all of his might to stay focused on his school work leading up to the Gryffindor Quidditch trials. Originally, he started in his bedroom at the desk, then ended up studying on his bed, before finally moving into the sitting room to his place on the sofa. None of the locations helped keep his mind fully on his schoolwork.

Being still fatigued from his various illnesses, the young wizard fell asleep with his herbology textbook sprawled across his chest laying on the sofa. Luckily, Snape had been in a good mood most of the day and let him sleep until lunchtime. The two occupants ate together in a very conversational lunch discussing topics ranging from magical defense strategies to who was best rated to win the Quidditch cup, which Snape ceremoniously stated that without Harry - or presumably Ginny for at least the first part of the season anyway - playing seeker, the Slytherin's were definitely favored to win. What they didn't talk about was not missed by either person - Harry's new treatment schedule, Harry's cancer, Snape's duties for the Order, what happened non-medically in the thirteen days Harry was unconscious, or the upcoming magical testing. Harry didn't want any depressing topics to get in his own head bringing him down.

When there was only about a quarter-hour before they were set to leave, Harry could feel a cold sweat forming along his forehead and in his palms. He was on the sofa staring off at the wall trying not to think about anything and failing miserably. The only thought going through his mind was the reaction he was likely to get from his teammates. Somehow in his attempt to avoid thinking of that scenario, it was now the only thing his mind could focus on. Would they laugh at his lack of hair? Or maybe they would ignore him completely since The Chosen One was no longer healthy enough to save them?

Snape appeared in the floo as Harry was in the middle of his mini-panic attack and was just about to cancel the whole thing.

Where has he been?

"Are you ready?" The professor asked, keeping a keen eye on the young wizard.

"No," Harry admitted sheepishly, "I think this is a bad idea."

Snape's face was completely blank. After everything Harry had done to make sure he would get to see the tryouts, now he was backing out. Some Gryffindor he was; if he couldn't show his face to his own housemates, how was he going to manage when he was back in classes with the other houses? Or what about when he got to go back to eating meals in the Great Hall with all the years from all the houses?

"Fine," he eventually said when it was obvious that Snape had nothing to add to the conversation.

"That's good to hear because I've just spent the better of part of the last hour cleaning out the stands of the Quidditch pitch for you."

Demonstrating just how anxious he was, Harry jumped when a small piece of parchment unexpectedly appeared in front of Snape. Reading over the parchment, the professor narrowed his eyes, but went to the door to let in whoever dared to come to their quarters.

Harry - completely uninterested in the identity of their visitor - went to his bedroom to put on his trainers. It had been so long since he had needed to wear them that it took several minutes to find them buried at the bottom of his trunk. After a quick internal debate, he grabbed his red blanket from its neatly folded position at the bottom of his bed, unsure how cold it would be outside, or more specifically how cold it would feel to him outside. And just like that, he was ready to go.

As he was about to leave his room, he could hear murmuring coming from the sitting room. It sounded like more than one person was here and Harry hoped to Merlin it was not Malfoy; he was already dreading Tuesday's tutoring if he thought too far ahead for the week. He'd managed to avoid the Slytherin so far since he had no reason to be in the hospital wing when Harry was there, except now that he was back home it was more than possible the blonde would eventually stop by to see Snape.

Opening the door, he smiled when he heard the voices of Hermione and Dudley instead of Malfoy's. They must have come down to walk with him to the pitch as Ron would already be in the locker room getting ready and probably nervous as hell.

"Hey Harry," Dudley called out once he saw Harry emerge from his bedroom. The young wizard stopped short at the sight of Dudley holding a Gryffindor flag and simply raised his hand to greet his cousin.

"All set Harry?" Hermione asked, coming up and wrapping her arm around his shoulder. No matter how many times he and Ron joked about Hermione's elaborate greetings, he still loved that she did them.

"Yeah," he answered her nervously, "I thought I was meeting you guys there?"

It was Snape who answered his question, "I thought you'd feel more comfortable going down with your friends. I'll only cause an uproar if I'm anywhere near the Gryffindor trials. You needn't worry, I've made all the necessary preparations."

He was right, Harry rationalized to himself. The other Gryffindors would definitely think he was spying on their team selection, plus then Harry would have to explain why he was walking down with everyone's most hated professor. It would be a really bad way to start his reintroduction into the school again. He felt a wave of gratitude rush through him at the thought that Snape had considered not only ways to keep him physically healthy, but emotionally healthy as well.

"Thank you Severus," Harry said then grabbing his school bag - packed with homework to work on - he turned back to his cousin and Hermione, "Let's go."

The three of them walked carefully through the dungeons with Harry between them, wishing they'd floo'ed to somewhere outside of the Slytherin's territory to start. The last people he wanted to run into first was a group of aggressive Slytherins.

"How's Ron feeling about the tryouts?" Harry asked, navigating his way carefully through the corridors. It felt strange to be walking more than across the sitting room or down the hallway.

"He's nervous," Hermione said quickly, "he thinks without you on the team there's no way he'll make it again."

"That's ridiculous," Harry commented with a small scowl, "he had a good end to the season last year. He'll be fine."

Hermione stopped walking causing the two cousins to stop directly in front of her. She stared at Harry with her hands on her hips.

"It's Ron," she lectured, "when does he rationally think about things like this?"

"I know 'Mione," Harry said, pulling her forward so they could make it to the pitch before it filled up too much with spectators. "He should be happy. Without me on the team, he'll finally get to shine."

Both Hermione and Dudley laughed at that one. By this time, the trio had made it up out of the dungeons and as they were crossing the corridor to head outside, Harry could hear the loud echoes of students enjoying the beautiful day on this last afternoon of the weekend before classes started back again. With such great weather, Harry had expected he would have to encounter at least some students on his way out to the pitch. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, pushed the large oak door open, and they walked out onto the grounds.

The first thing Harry noticed was how fresh and crisps the air smelled as he inhaled deeply. After all that time indoors, he hadn't noticed now stuffy it had been in the dungeons. The second thing he noticed was how bright the sun was in his eyes and simultaneously how warm it felt against his skin. Yes, the enchanted windows helped bring the natural light, but it wasn't the same as feeling it. He was so engulfed in his other senses, he hardly took notice of the people around him.

"Hey Harry!"

"How's it going?!"

"Nice to see you!"

Without making too much of a big deal about it, he simply waved as the three friends continued walking on by and down to the pitch.

"Have you been down here yet Dudley?" Harry asked, this time not being able to miss the stares he was receiving - mostly from non-Gryffindors - even if no one was saying anything directly to him anymore.

"Yeah. Ron and Hermione brought me down here one day when Ron was practicing," Dudley replied as if this were completely normal, "Not going to lie, the flying creeps me out a bit."

Harry laughed. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever expect to be having a conversation like this with Dudley. And yet somehow it felt natural and something that he knew his mum would be proud of him for. That last thought made him smile because even though he never knew - and would never know - his parents, he still wanted to do things in his life that would make them proud of him. So far, he thought he was doing well achieving that overall, except for the Department of Mysteries... and maybe the Chamber of Secrets... and the Philosopher's Stone; he guessed they would not have liked him doing any of that stuff.

They were the first three people in the stands and Hermione led them over to where he assumed Snape had told her the area that had been magically cleaned for Harry.

As he had anticipated, the breeze made him shiver as he was sitting down and setting up some of his schoolwork to start. While it wasn't really that cold outside yet, he had lost such a significant amount of weight he didn't have as much body fat to keep him warm. He wrapped the blanket around him, but not before Hermione grabbed her wand and cast a heating charm on it to help him stay warm. Harry sat sandwiched between Hermione and Dudley, helping to keep him warm and protect him from prying eyes.

"What are you working on?" Dudley asked as Harry opened his notebook.

"Transfiguration," the young wizard answered, then thought about how nonsensical that sounded so he added, "the ability to change one object into another object."

"Why would you need that?"

"Erm..." Harry thought about a situation that might make sense to Dudley. He smiled at the example that popped into his mind, "Well, if you needed bandages because you're bleeding, you could transfigure your essay into one."

"Or you could just conjure them," Hermione explained looking over the essay Harry had written last night. "Which is still Transfiguration, but then you wouldn't have to redo your assignment."

Harry's mouth literally fell open. Why hadn't Snape done that instead of using his charms homework when his IV had pulled out?!

Turning back to Dudley, Harry corrected himself, "It's either transforming something from something else or creating something from nothing. Probably one of the more obscure classes we take, but I need to be an Auror... Which is a dark wizard catcher."

"Yeah," Dudley said, "I remember."

Hermione handed him back his essay with far less markings on it then he anticipated, "For not actually having an official lesson yet, it wasn't bad. If you expand the areas I pointed out, I think you'll get fine marks."

Harry could tell she was distracted as she kept looking out around the ground like she wanted to see the moment Ron came on the field. Given that he'd been secluded from them for most of the summer and the start of the school year, it made sense that they would inevitably get closer. However, seeing it so plainly in front of him was a little off-putting, like he was becoming their third wheel.

As Harry was working on rewriting his Transfiguration essay, adding in Hermione's more than helpful hints, the stands around him started to fill up. He was surprised to see more than just the normal Gryffindor-Quidditch crowd in attendance. In fact, there were students of all years from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff too. Coming up besides their little group was Neville, Luna, and Seamus, followed closely by Pavarti and Padma.

"Hey Harry," Neville said, taking the seat besides Dudley, while Luna sat on the other side of Hermione and Seamus sat down in front of Harry. Padma and Pavarti continued to another section of the stands after greeting Harry.

"Hi guys," Harry said, trying to sound as casual as he could. Leaning forward, Harry gave Seamus a playful punch on his shoulder and said, "You don't normally come to tryouts, what're you doing here?"

"Nah, but Dean's tryin' out fer Beater this yer," the Irish Gryffindor explained, "and from what I heard this is the only way we can make sure Snape hasn't turned ya inta potions ingredients yet."

Harry laughed, not taking what his former dormmate said to heart knowing it was in good fun. If nothing else, the fact that Neville spent time in Snape's quarters and came back alive was enough proof Harry wasn't about to perish on them.

"Glad to see you waited until it was a convenient time for you to check in on me then!"

"Oh, no Harry," Luna said whimsically and with a serious appearance upon her face, "I heard that if anyone asked a single thing about why you weren't in classes, Professor Snape said he would personally feed them to the giant squid."

Harry felt his face starting to flush. So much for no one making the connection that-

"How did you end up staying with Professor Snape?" His thoughts were interrupted by Luna's much too personal question.

Harry thought back to the beginning of his summer and how much had happened between them. It was too difficult to really explain.

"Professor Snape originally came to stay at my house back when Harry was first diagnosed," Dudley chimed in completely ignoring Harry's death glare. "He took care of Harry while he was really sick and brought him to all his appointments and-"

"It's... Complicated," Harry interrupted with - because frankly it was the truth - giving another glare at Dudley.

"That's so good Harry," Luna continued because either she couldn't tell how uncomfortable this made Harry or she didn't care; for some reason Harry suspected it was the latter. "You've always been so alone... And so has Professor Snape; you deserve a good home."

"Erm... thanks Luna," Harry said as Seamus and Neville tried unsuccessfully to hold back a laugh, "...I think."

Luckily, she didn't have any time for another question because the prospective players were all coming onto the pitch. Hermione immediately perked up watching Ron walking out not so confidently. Harry waved to get his best friend's attention and was rewarded with a small wave back.

Harry watched most of the tryouts instead of working on his homework assignments much to Hermione's chagrin. Of course, she wasn't nearly as focused on her reading as Harry knew she'd been in the past. No he wasn't imagining it, there was definitely something changing between her and Ron.

Regardless of how much Harry wished he was out there flying with his classmates, he cheered them on like nothing was bothering him. They had the start of a decent team after losing so many of their key players last year. Katie Bell was obviously returning as a chaser along with Demelza Robins - who Harry barely knew - and Dean Thomas. Katie selected two new recruits Ritchie Coote and Jimmy Peaked, to replace Fred and George; Harry wasn't completely sure how they'd do overall, but even he had to admit the pickings were slim.

When the time came for the Keeper tryouts, the stands had filled up, and Harry knew it would make Ron extremely nervous. With most of the people in the stands staring at him or whispering about him, the ill Gryffindor was feeling guilty for drawing so much attention, inevitably adding to Ron's nerves. If the redhead didn't make the cut, Harry would have himself to blame.

As the defender to the position - having had it last year - Ron was able to go last out of the seven prospects that came to try out. None of the first five applicants could save more than two goals apiece and Harry held his breath as Cormac McLaggen saved four penalties out of five. Somehow on the last one, McLaggen shot off in completely the wrong direction causing the crowd - including Harry - to laugh. It was such a random rookie mistake, no matter how much Harry wished to ignore it, he knew Hermione had to have gotten involved. Ron looked ready to pass out as he mounted his Cleansweep Eleven, but he really had no reason to worry as he proceeded to block all five of the goals earning him the spot on the team as Keeper.

Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to pay closer attention to this next part or block out the tryouts for his old Seeker position. Although, the more he thought about it, technically it was Ginny's position since he hardly played last year, making him feel marginally better about the situation. Katie was gathering all the potential Seekers together - most of who were second and third years - when he heard someone call from behind him.

"If it isn't Pitiful Potter," Harry didn't have to turn around to know it was either Crabbe or Goyle. He could never tell those apart to begin with, but from behind him was almost impossible. It didn't really matter in the end because neither of them should be watching the Gryffindor Quidditch tryouts.

"What happened to you Potter?" The Slytherin called out with clear intentions to pick a fight. "You look like you're about to drop dead."

Harry whipped around and Hermione placed her hand on his shoulder as a physical reminder to him not to react. That really wasn't his style though, so instead he stood up and turned around now face-to-face with both Crabbe and Goyle; Malfoy was notably absent. Hermione, Dudley, Neville, Luna, and Seamus all stood up around Harry, except since the Slytherin's came up directly behind them, Harry was now front and center.

"Heard you can't do magic anymore Potter," Crabbe taunted as Harry got angrier with each passing second. "Not so good for the Boy-Who-Lived is it?"

"As usual, you're completely wrong. I can do magic," Harry threatened, "I'm just not gonna waste any of my energy for you two idiots."

Harry was about to turn around and continue watching the Seeker trials - which were still ongoing having not heard the commotion from up in the stands - when one of the Slytherin bullies pulled off Harry's hat and threw it from the stands. Fighting off the embarrassment with as much Occlumency as he could manage, Harry shook his head from side to side.

"Is that really the best you can do?" He narrowed his eyes at the pair in front of him, "You're both pathetic!"

"And what are you going to do about it, Squib?" Goyle took a step forward and shoved Harry directly on his chest. After all this time he never really noticed the port in chest anymore and of course that happened to be exactly where one of Goyle's large meaty hands struck him and the small Gryffindor fell over backwards into the stands. Moving into his knees, Harry's hand clutched his chest and he winced as a sharp pain ran through his upper chest. Each time he breathed, the pressure around the port would sting in pain. At this point, the seeker trials had ceased and their group had a good amount of people watching around them.

Crabbe and Goyle started manically laughing. Without any other warning, all the friends around Harry brandished their wands at the same time. Dudley, who obviously had no wand to use, stood directly between Harry and the two bullies with his fists ready in a moment's notice. However before any of them could react, the two Slytherins were pushed back as if hit with an unexpected, extremely strong stupefy.

Hermione spun around, keeping a close eye on Harry who almost wasn't even paying attention to what had happened around him. Before she could say anything, Professor McGonagall showed up; making her way as quickly as she could through the crowded stands.

"Excuse me," she demanded, finally approaching the eight teenagers. The professor was looking between all of them trying to ascertain what had happened, however it was not difficult to tell. "What is going on over here?"

No one answered. Harry slowly stood up, hand still covering his port trying not to show that he was in pain. The professor peered down at Crabbe and Goyle unconscious on the stands, then looked back curiously at Harry. It was as if she knew he somehow was the cause of the situation. She pointed her wand at both boys and said "Rennervate" to awaken them both. The two Slytherins jumped to their feet with their wands out in front of them, immediately recoiling after one glimpse at their Transfiguration professor.

"Miss. Granger and Mr. Dursley, please assist Mr. Potter to the hospital wing; I'm guessing Madam Pomfrey will want his healer to examine his injury," Professor McGonagall demanded. "The rest of you follow me, we'll be meeting with the headmaster and Professor Snape."

Harry was still between Hermione and Dudley as they made their way off the stands heading back towards the castle. Back at the Quidditch pitch, it sounded like the fight had broken back out with Seamus's and Goyle's voices being heard above the sea of talking. Harry wanted to turn back around to help his friends; in fact he would have in an instant if his port wasn't still feeling uncomfortable. Every time he breathed, the area would give a sharp pain that lasted only a second.

"Harry," she said warily, "did you do that? To Crabbe and Goyle?"

"I can't Hermione," the Gryffindor wizard explained, only partially believing what he was telling her, "Snape and Dumbledore have already figured out that my magic is going away. It has something to do with the chemotherapy, I'll fill you in on the details later."

"Well, I think they're wrong," Hermione said in a matter of fact voice.

Something about that statement broke all of Harry's reserve and he stopped in his tracks, still holding onto his chest. He was fuming mad and refused to look her in the eye knowing he'd never get to say what was on his mind if he did.

"So you think two of the best wizards at Hogwarts are wrong?" He yelled up towards her once she realized he had stopped following. "And of course, you're right about every little thing, so just because the great Hermione Granger says they're wrong, my magic must not be getting erased. Did you even think about how that might sound on my end of things?

"No? Well, let me fill you in. I know what I feel, ok? I know what Severus told me matches what I'm experiencing and I don't care what you think because it sure as hell feels like my magical core is dying. But I guess since that's better than me dying, I just have to suck it up and deal with it!

"I don't know what happened to Crabbe and Goyle back there, but if it was me... that somehow I managed to nonverbally and wandlessly stun them, I hate that I wasted whatever little bit of magic I have left on those arseholes!"

At this point Harry was completely out of breath - still struggling with the after effects of the pneumonia - and fell back to the ground in a coughing fit. He tried to use his Occlumency to calm himself down and be able to breathe, but he was too worked up to do it successfully. Hermione sat down next to him and Harry immediately pulled himself away from her.

Once the Gryffindor wizard finally got some kind of oxygen to his lungs and brain, he stood up and started slowly marching himself, with Dudley two steps behind him, to the hospital wing. Hermione remained on the grassy lawn watching one of her best friends walk away angry.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus was having tea with Minerva - going over how they would be measuring Harry's magical abilities as well as their plan to provide Alton with alternate records to lay a false path for the Dark Lord - when Albus's Phoenix patronus interrupted them about a fight between their students on the Quidditch pitch. Severus was furious since he had specifically lectured his students about staying away from the pitch today, under the guise that the Gryffindors would then attend their own trials later in the week, to which he made clear he did not want this to happen. He was about to head straight there when Minerva told him to meet her at Albus's office and she would take care of the altercation.

"No offense Severus," she started, putting her on her cloak, "if you show up there, it's only going to make things worse."

He knew she was right, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Grudgingly, he stood and left for the headmaster's office. On his way there he tried not to think about what could have happened to Harry. While his platelet counts had come back up with the lack of chemotherapy, they still were not where a healthy teenager's should be. He briefly considered going to the hospital wing because if Harry were hurt that was where he would go, however he didn't know for a fact Harry had been injured, plus he had his duties as a Head of House that were already lacking lately.

"Good afternoon Severus," Albus greeted his defense professor, "I take it we are waiting on the students who were involved in the altercation?"

Severus nodded, "Any idea of the culprits?"

"Unfortunately, I believe it's Messrs Crabbe, Goyle, and Potter," the older wizard said with a sorrow deep within his blue eyes. "Before you get too unsettled about the situation, I feel it appropriate to tell you Miss. Greengrass alerted me to the possible situation after overhearing both of your students discussing it."

That was definitely an interesting turn of events. He assumed she would try to prove her loyalty in any way possible, yet choosing to do so against these two particular Slytherins was not the best course of action in the long run. Their fathers may not be as highly ranked in the Dark Lord's inner circle as himself - at least where he used to be - or Lucius, but they were high enough to draw unwanted attention.

"Foolish girl," Severus commented as he rubbed his forehead.

"I think it's quite clever my boy," Albus said turning his head in inquisitively. "Your new truce with Harry is making its way around the student body. What better way to stay in your good graces than to alert us that harm may be coming to him."

The former spy was trying his hardest to balance his responsibility to Harry, his students, and his colleagues; a feat that was challenging on even his best of days. He tabled his worry about Harry's well being for a moment to consider if Daphne Greengrass's admission could come back in a negative light.

It took Minerva twenty minutes to return to the castle and accompanying her were Crabbe and Goyle, along with Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and Seamus Finnegan. Longbottom was shaking like a leaf in a hurricane, whereas Finnegan appeared like he was ready to continue whatever had occurred down at the pitch, and as always Miss. Lovegood didn't even seem to notice they were in the headmaster's office to begin with.

"Who shall we start with?" Albus asked his students. When no one stepped forward, he continued, "Miss. Lovegood, if you'll be so kind as to explain what exactly happened this afternoon, it would be much appreciated."

"Of course Headmaster," the Ravenclaw started, "well, I decided after lunch to accompany Neville to watch the Gryffindor Quidditch trials. I don't pay much attention you see, so there was not a chance-"

"Thank you Miss. Lovegood," Albus interrupted, to which Severus was grateful so he did not have to be the one to do it, "however we only need the details relevant to the altercation involving Mr. Goyle, Mr. Crabbe, and Mr. Potter."

It took all of Severus's patience not to simply storm out of the room and deal with his students later.

"Ye see," Seamus Finnegan stepped up to explain. He had a bloody lip to which Severus silently questioned how he'd received it since no others appeared injured. "We were all jus fine until these two arseholes came up tryin' ta pick a fight. They said some things ta 'arry, but he didn't get mad until they pulled his hat off and then shoved 'im down inta the stands."

Minerva had to hold Seamus back, something that surprised Severus because he had not realized that the teen was so defensive to Harry. As for the actions of his own two students, unfortunately it didn't surprise him at all to see something like this occur. It was bound to happen once Harry made his way back into the student body when it was clearly evident he was ill. This in no way validated what they did and they would absolutely be punished for their abhorrent behavior.

"I dunno why Potter isn't here too," Crabbe mumbled, "he's the one who knocked us out."

Severus raised one eyebrow at that statement, choosing not to say a word. Stealthily meeting Minerva's eyes, the Transfiguration Professor gave a small nod to confirm the accusation. Friday's magical test could not come fast enough.

It took over an hour before Severus was able to leave Albus's office. If he could, he would have assigned his two students detention until the Christmas holiday; in the end though, his cooler side prevailed and recommended detention every night this week to be served with Mr. Filch. Of all the stupid things those two could do... of course could he really expect any less from them?

The most alarming part of that entire conversation was Harry's unintentional magic. In this particular situation, it very well could have been a bout of accidental magic - since Harry was both physically and emotionally threatened - except given that none of Harry's magic so far could be classified as accidental, the professor had to assume it was unknown, intentional magic.

He rounded the corridor leading to the hospital wing and heard Alton's voice from inside. If the healer was called, then either Harry was having a bleeding issue or it had to do with his port. There weren't really many other non-life threatening injuries that Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix; even by muggle methods at this point.

Getting his Occlumency shields firmly in place, the professor entered the hospital wing. Harry was in a bed on the left with his jumper removed showing two large purple bruises on either side of chest. They were clearly from where Goyle had - exceeding roughly - pushed Harry down. Severus questioned if his back was also bruised from where he'd landed, except the young wizard was laying down in the bed, so he could not see that yet. Healer Smithe was flushing out the port and had several bags of an unknown medication waiting to be used. Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey was shadowing Alton taking notes of each and every thing the healer used or had ready to use.

Next to the bed was Ron, still dressed in his Quidditch uniform and Dudley next to him. He took note that Hermione was not anywhere in the hospital wing, even though Minerva stated she was to accompany Harry to the hospital wing with Dudley. If Harry and Ron were here, Hermione's absence was significant.

"What happened?" Severus demanded, masking his deepest concern for the young wizard in the hospital bed.

"He'll be alright Severus," Alton reassured the professor. "I've confirmed the port and catheter are still in place, which was the biggest concern. Outside of that, he's got some nasty bruises, so I'm going to start him on extra platelets."

Severus picked up all the bags laying across the table and confirmed they were indeed platelets to use to help Harry's blood clot.

"How are you?" He asked Harry now that he confirmed the teen's life wasn't in any danger. He placed his hand on Harry's left shoulder urging him to roll onto his side and said, "Let me see your back."

The Gryffindor rolled his eyes and turned over, "You heard Healer Smithe; I'm going to be fine."

"I did not ask how you are going to be," satisfied that the bruises on his back were no worse than the ones on his chest, he continued, "I asked you how you are now?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes again, Harry amended his statement, "I am fine, sir."

There was that word again..."fine". He'd have to break Harry of that habit really soon if for no other reason than his loathing of the term and what it now represented.

"I'll give you one more chance; how are you right now?"

"I'm pissed off! Is that what you want to hear?" Harry yelled, struggling to explain his thoughts, "Things were actually going well and then... Then they had to say... those things... and then they... Did that..."

Severus knew Harry was embarrassed; not only from the hat situation, but the squib comment too. In his old reality, Harry rarely lost his control, unfortunately going through his counterpart's memories that had not always been the case for Harry here. This Harry had always had to deal with all of his complex emotions completely on his own.

"And then Hermione had to go and say-"

Harry clamped his mouth shut, biting his lower lip in the process. Whatever the Gryffindor witch had said, that would explain her absence; it must have been something bad enough to both keep her away and cause Harry to want her away.

"I've handled both Crabbe and Goyle," Severus reassured as he busied himself rechecking the bruising Healer Smithe had already gone over, "I'm sure Mr. Filch will find an appropriate detention for the two of them."

Harry huffed, "For some reason I highly doubt that sir."

It wasn't fair, but things in life rarely were; if anyone knew that simple fact it was Severus and Harry.

"I'm sure Professor McGonagall will make sure they get a particularly nasty detention," Ron spoke up; actually agreeing with Severus on something, "she won't let them get away with it."

She better get in line.

"Whatever," Harry shortly replied, "Who got the Seeker position?"

Ron smiled, "Ginny did! Madam Pomfrey told Katie she should be all cleared by our first game. Katie wanted a backup just in case, but they all were pants at it. Hopefully Ginny's feeling better by then otherwise we'll forfeit."

Dudley gave a small laugh, "No pressure on her right?."

Ron started laughing too and Severus simply stared at Harry who didn't find it at all amusing. Knowing Harry as well as he did, he knew the teen would give almost anything to feel the pressure of that on him if it meant he could play Quidditch again.

~~~~HP~~~~

Madam Pomfrey wanted to keep Harry overnight for observation, to which Harry flat out refused and luckily Snape had agreed with him that he should be allowed back in their quarters no later than curfew that night. At dinnertime, the medi-witch forced the other two teenagers to leave for dinner, allowing Snape to stay as long as Harry ate his dinner without too much distraction. Like Snape, Madam Pomfrey was determined to get him eating regularly this week before chemo started again on Saturday.

Once Harry had taken a few bites of his roasted chicken, Snape started on a conversation that could not have come at a worse time.

"Alton would like to test your magical strength on Friday," he stated without giving any room for Harry to argue back. "Professor McGonagall and I are coming up with a series of tests you can try to do that will allow us to compare your current level to your previous years'."

"In hopes that you can estimate how long it will take my magic to completely disappear?" Harry bluntly asked. No need to sugar coat it, which is exactly what Snape sounded like he was doing.

"Harry," the professor said, placing his hand on the Gryffindor's shoulder and giving a small squeeze, "whatever happens, we'll get through it. I promise you, you will not be left behind. If that means we both go away for a while, I'm prepared to do that."

"Hermione-thinks-you're-wrong," Harry blurted out so fast he wasn't sure Snape heard him. Taking it slower he clarified "You and Dumbledore... I think that she thinks my magic is somehow growing... or at least not going away."

Harry could see the confliction in his mentor's eyes, while trying to keep the pleading from his own. He obviously wanted Hermione to be right knowing that it was impossible though. He wouldn't have that awful pain whenever he got the chemotherapy if his magic was growing instead.

"I'll have a talk with Miss. Granger about her suspicion," Snape said after a solid minute of silence. "We've talked about this Harry. I don't want to give you false hope, the situation has not changed and the odds are not in your favor."

Swallowing back the tears that he could feel building up at the corners of his eyes, the young wizard looked away. Out the window to his right, he could see the last of the students holding off going to dinner so they could spend time in the remaining sunshine before returning to the castle for the night. They were enjoying their last carefree hours of the weekend before the pressure of classes, homework, and tests started in the morning. None of them were worrying about Voldemort attacking, none of them had to think about what they'd do if they lost their magic, and none of them had a disease circulating in their bloodstream actively trying to kill them.

Harry was so lost in his negative thoughts, he completely missed Malfoy entering the hospital wing until he saw Snape stand up from the corner of his eye.

"Meet me back at my office when you're through," the professor told Malfoy, drawing Harry's attention to them, "we have something of importance to discuss."

"Of course professor," the Slytherin said taking the seat Severus had vacated.

"I'll come by to help you back to our quarters once Madam Pomfrey officially releases you," Snape said to Harry before quietly walking around the curtain partitions and leaving.

"Come to gloat?" The Gryffindor asked aggressively.

"Hardly," Malfoy claimed, leaning forward to rest his arms across his knees, "What Crabbe and Goyle did was tasteless. Even I wouldn't sink that low."

Harry glared over not at all convinced with what Malfoy was saying.

"Besides," the Slytherin continued, "who do you think tipped off the headmaster that there was a problem?"

"It wasn't you," somehow Harry managed to keep the surprise from his voice.

"Not exactly, but it was a fellow Slytherin," Malfoy looked up at the ceiling before continuing, "we're not all evil you know."

"I never claimed you were, but what Crabbe and Goyle did was pretty close," Harry responded cautiously, not wanting to get backed into a corner.

"You and the rest of the school don't need to say a word about it; it's obvious what people think of us," Malfoy explained. "And I'll let you know that by judging us like that makes you all no different than how the Death Eaters think about muggles and muggleborns."

The statement hung between the boys like a thick, hazy cloud of dust. Harry didn't want to think it, nevertheless it was the first place his mind was taken-

He's right.

It was a viewpoint Harry hadn't considered. Were they being just as prejudiced to all the Slytherins as Voldemort and his followers were to muggles and muggleborns? He'd heard Snape say that one of the reasons he joined the Death Eaters was because he wanted some kind of vindication against his father, meaning he had judged the other muggles he killed based on his experience with his father. It was wrong and something Harry stood vehemently against, and yet here he was getting accused of doing the same thing to the Slytherin students. The realization did not leave a good feeling in his stomach.

"You're right," Harry eventually said because no matter how he'd tried to turn the situation around, he couldn't. "I shouldn't judge your housemates based on my experience with you... Or Crabbe or Goyle or Nott.

"So if you're not here to gloat, why are you here?" The Gryffindor asked.

"Whether you believe me or not, I'm coming to check on you. The last time we spoke before you ended up here with-"

"Pneumonia," Harry interrupted seeing as his classmate was having a hard time finding the right word.

"And how's that different than the Leukemia?" There was something in Malfoy's eyes that convinced Harry the Slytherin was legitimately interested to learn about his illness.

"Depends," the Gryffindor challenge, "did you find out about what Leukemia is on your own or are you trying to trick me into telling you?"

"That's fair," the blonde conceded. "Once you gave me the name, finding the information wasn't difficult to do. You have a muggle disease in your blood; I read all about it."

"And you didn't melt from touching a muggle book? How shocking," Harry mocked. "The pneumonia was an infection in my lungs. The medication to kill off the Leukemia makes it harder for my immune system to fight off any other illness. Professor Snape thinks it was from all the students returning into the school."

And suddenly another weight was magically lifted off Harry's shoulders without him even knowing it was there. He'd spent so much time angry at the teenager in front of him that for however short it lasted, he was willing to let things go between them.

Randomly, Harry remembered one of his final thoughts from their last tutoring session; that if he keeps pushing Malfoy, the spy may change his alliance back to Voldemort. Why would the blonde want to continue helping the Order if he was always being criticized and ostracized? In that moment the Gryffindor decided to take it upon himself not to let that happen. If Snape could put even a little of his trust in Malfoy, Harry could give him a little more wiggle room too, while still keeping a close eye on the Slytherin.

"If you hadn't heard yet," Harry started, "you're going to get another year against Ginny as seeker."

Malfoy gave a small smirk, "Not like that's much better. I have a feeling Quidditch will be at the bottom of my priorities this year."

"That makes two of us," Harry agreed, "I'm hoping I'll get to at least see the matches this year."

And just like that, the two wizards - both so similar and yet so different at the same time - put aside their past grievance to have their first real conversation as peers. They talked about the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Quidditch teams, classes for the year - specifically their agreement that the new Potions professor was insanely boring, and finally about Harry's cancer, the chemotherapy, and oddly - to Harry at least - what he thought of Healer Smithe. Harry never picked up that Malfoy had previously spoken about all of that with Snape; that the other boy was talking about it primarily to help release Harry from the burden of his illness.

Malfoy left around seven that evening and Harry got back to working on the revisions to his transfiguration essay. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was going over the conversation he had with Malfoy; amazed with how natural it was, how much lighter he felt inside now that Malfoy knew all about the Leukemia, and still unsure why the other boy had asked so much about Healer Smithe. He was slowly coming to the realization about how much he really depended on the people around him, and not just his closest friends. Now he just needed to patch things up with Hermione and he would have plenty of time to do that tomorrow when she was over for tutoring.

When Snape came back to the hospital at half past nine, Harry had his school bag packed and was ready to go. Snape on the other hand appeared exhausted; much more than he had even when they were both back at Privet Drive. Harry questioned how the man was holding up with all of this, except knew Snape would never confide in him. The young wizard decided to ask Professor McGonagall at his lesson because if anyone could get through the hard outer exterior of Snape, it would be her.

"All set?" Snape asked, picking up Harry's school bag from the floor besides the bed. "Madam Pomfrey has reluctantly released you back into my care."

Harry nodded, swinging his legs over the side of the bed so he was now in a sitting position in front of the professor. He was nervous and thought about it twice before he asked, "Everything go ok with Malfoy?"

Raising one eyebrow, the former spy did not have to say a word for Harry to know it wasn't any of his business.

"Ok fine... It's none of my concern," Harry mocked lifting his hands in the air to show he was giving in. He stood up directly in front of Snape meeting the professor's onyx eyes with his bright emerald ones, "Can we go home now?"

At that simple question, the edges of Snape's lips pulled upwards into a quick, small smile.

"Yes Harry," he said, placing his arm around the Gryffindor's small shoulders and guiding him to the medi-witch's office to use her floo, "Let us go home."

~~~~AU SS~~~~

Severus and Harry had only been home to Spinner's End for less than a week after the school year ended a fortnight ago. First walking into the recently renovated house felt somewhat ceremonial as it was the first time they'd returned after the adoption became official only three months ago. He'd left for Harry's second year of school this past September not having a clue that he'd return as Harry's father. It was an odd, yet satisfying feeling; like somehow the universe aligned and this was exactly how his life was supposed to go all along.

The Potions Master had just walked into his home from a quick shopping trip to gather the last minute necessities they would need for the upcoming holiday Severus had planned. He would never admit that he was nervous to be taking Harry away just the two of them. It was not something he would normally do on his own, however he wanted to give Harry - his son - the kind of experiences that had been withheld from him during his time living, or more accurately imprisoned, at the Dursleys. This trip - and this location - was a perfect way to start their summer.

"Come in," the young wizard called from the other side of his bedroom door.

Sitting up in his bed, Harry had a book laying across his lap. Hedwig was perched in her cage and ruffled her feathers, giving a small hoot when the door opened; she seemed to enjoy her new home. Severus placed the bag onto the top of Harry's bed.

"We're going away for a week or two," he explained to the Gryffindor, "I expect you to be packed and ready to go in the morning."

As predicted, Harry didn't hide his skepticism, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see in the morning," Severus replied "Pack casual clothing and a pair of swim shorts."

"We're going swimming?" Harry asked with a smirk that immediately fell, "I don't have swim shorts."

Lifting up the bag he had placed on the bed, the professor replied, "Now you do. Get packed."

Early the next morning, the portkey Severus arranged took them almost all the way to the cottage he rented for the two of them. Once they landed - or fell in Harry's case as it was his first time using a portkey - the moist sea air instantly brought Severus back to one of his best summer memories from his own childhood.

"Where are we?" Harry asked, walking out from the narrow space between two stone buildings and looking around the village they had arrived in.

"Aberdaron... in Wales," the Potions Master replied, taking a left and walking confidently down the street.

Severus could see Harry looking around in amazement as they continued their journey. Severus was not normally a sentimental man, nonetheless watching Harry reminded him of his own first visit to this same town; his excitement to leave Cokeworth if only for four days and to see the ocean for his first time. It had been years since he'd been here, and walking down the familiar streets with Harry helped to heal a wound so deep within him that he'd long gotten used to always being there.

It was less than a ten minute walk to get to their first destination, most of which was spent walking in silence. They finally approached a small white building with a bright red door.

Before opening the door, Severus turned to Harry and said in a quiet voice, "Please remember this is a muggle town. Keep your wand on you at all times, but under no circumstances should anyone see it. And it goes without saying that you cannot perform anything with it."

"That's not a problem sir," Harry replied almost smiling.

Nodding, Severus opened the door and gestured for Harry to go in first. The professor greeted the older woman who was checking them in, all the while Harry went looking around at the old artefacts and history of the town that was on display around the room. With the keys to their cottage in hand, Severus called Harry to head out until they were stopped by the innkeeper.

"Do let me know," she started giving Severus's arm a soft pat, "if you or your son should need anything during your stay Mr. Snape."

"Thank you very much," Severus politely replied before continuing to walk out the door; sure he would never get used to Harry being called his son.

They continued walking until they reached a steep hill with a winding dirt path leading up to a faded yellow cottage. Severus turned when he noticed Harry had stopped following behind.

"Is everything alright Harry?" The professor asked.

"Yes sir," the young wizard replied with a small quiver in his voice. "I..."

"It's just at the top of this hill," he told the young nervous wizard. "Trust me, the view is worth the hike."

Severus nodded his head as he helped lead Harry up the hill and towards the small house. He knew it wasn't the hike that was causing the Gryffindor's hesitation. Harry was feeling overwhelmed with the reality that someone wanted to take him on a holiday. It was the exact same way Severus himself felt when he came here... with Lily's family. His first ever holiday. He had been so shocked when Mr. and Mrs. Evans had invited him on their family trip after their third year and even more shocked when his mother allowed him to go. They spent the entire time on the beach and swimming in the sea; it was one of the most relaxed he had been in his life.

Severus had been correct that the view was worth the hike, however for him it was not the stretch of beach against the blue sea; it was the look on Harry's face the moment he first saw the sea. From up on the hill, the sea breeze passed through Harry's always messy black hair and the almost teenager looked completely carefree. The Gryffindor closed his eyes and took a deep breath of sea air.

"This is brilliant Severus!"

The pair ended up extending their stay until the week after Harry's 13th birthday, where they celebrated seaside at the more secluded Porthor beach and Harry was able to experience the whistling sand when he slid his feet across it in just the right way. The trip had been filled with laughs, stories about Lily and her parents, and discussions about both the previous school year and the one coming up. Harry fell in love with the sea - claiming it to be his favorite place outside of home and Hogwarts - and Severus, not realizing that Harry did not know how to swim, taught the young wizard to swim. It was a perfect holiday for them both.

The only damper to their first family holiday was the night Severus saw an all-too-familiar face splashed across the muggle news at a cafe near the Aberdaron beach. Sirius Black had somehow escaped Azkaban; or prison according to the muggle news. There was no doubt in the former spy's mind that Black would be coming after Harry. His insides burned with hatred for the man that not only bullied him as a teenager, but also who's betrayal killed Lily. With any luck, the mutt would go to Little Whinging first, knowing that Harry would have been left with Lily's sister after the Potter's deaths. He would never be able to find Harry with the Fidelius in place at Spinner's End, which meant that their beach trip had to come to an end. It was time to go home.

Once they were finished packing up the cottage; finding the random book out on the front porch or parchment and quills stuffed between the sofa cushions from when Harry decided to work on his summer assignments, they both sat outside looking out to the sea one last time.

"Thank you Severus," Harry said, turning his head to look at the man who rescued him from his old life and was helping him rebuild this new one together. "I really appreciate you bringing me here."

"You are very welcome Harry," the Potions Master said, "We'll be back, I promise."

What Severus did not know was that they would never make it back to Aberdaron. The next two summers would be spent with the Quidditch World Cup, followed by a summer dedicated to a complicated commissioned project in addition to Aunt Petunia's funeral, and their final summer together they would spend tweaking potions to try to cure the Leukemia that was - even now - secretly held within Harry's blood waiting to wreak havoc on his body. Severus would plan to bring his son back to celebrate both the teen's 17th birthday and remission to the cancer he would fight hard against, however they would never make it because they would both be gone by then - Harry to the cancer and Severus to a new reality... a reality where a boy, who was not his son, was now sitting away locked up in a room that was not his own hoping to be ignored and thinking that would make it the best summer ever, instead of sitting next to his father getting ready to go home after his first real holiday.

~~~~SS~~~~

"I take it there was not any issue with our plan of action," Albus asked his defense professor first thing Monday morning before the start of his sixth year defense class; Severus had decided to pick up his classes again this week alongside Harry.

"Of course there wasn't," he replied with a smirk upon his face. "Did you honestly expect otherwise?"

Yesterday he met with Draco regarding the next mission the Order needed his assistance on. The former spy was finally able to convince Albus and the Order to start planning a rescue mission for Sarah and Mary Smithe, assuming they were even alive anymore. Albus had met individually with each member that would be directly involved in the mission to start putting everything into motion.

Severus's first part included finding out where Alton's loyalties lie; a task he had been trying to determine, however now that Harry had mostly recovered from the pneumonia it became a higher priority. The professor had been observing Alton since they discovered he had been compromised, nevertheless he still had very little substantial evidence to determine if he'd acted of his own accord or not. It could go either way, yet Severus's instincts still told him that Alton ultimately was on their side and was being coerced into helping the Dark Lord.

The initial plan was that the Order would be putting together two teams for the rescue mission; a tactical team and a reconnaissance team. Moody was leading the tactical team that would be the group stealthily infiltrating the Dark Lord's headquarters and actually rescuing the two muggles, while Severus was leading the reconnaissance team who was responsible for gathering the intelligence and would be staged as the watch post during the mission. Since his spying had ended earlier in the summer, Severus was anxious to get back into the field, though he would never openly admit to it. His nervous energy lately had been getting to him and this would be a good outlet to focus it on.

Naturally, Draco was part of the reconnaissance team. The Slytherin's role was to work directly with Moody - to which the new spy did a decent job at keeping his facial expressions neutral even though Severus knew how excited he was over the opportunity - to map out every passageway, opening, exit, and guard in Malfoy Manor. This would become the map the tactical team would use to plan and execute the rescue; giving Draco his leap of faith and trust from all members of the Order. Unfortunately, Severus had the suspicion that should the smallest detail be incorrect and the mission fail - specifically if there were any loss of life to their side - Draco was being set up for the fall out, which the professor was dead set on preventing at all costs.

"It's a lot of responsibility for young Draco," the headmaster commented casually as he sat behind his desk that was littered with parchment. Severus briefly wondered what kind of work Albus did all day when he wasn't orchestrating the fight against one of the darkest wizards of their time. He imagined it was rather tedious and political - two things the former spy hated the most.

"He's up to the challenge," Severus casually replied. During all of this he questioned to himself how a student could have gotten wrapped up in this mess and he was hating himself for his role in it. "Now Moody on the other hand..."

The professor trailed off knowing Albus would follow his train of thought. Moody distrusted Draco almost as much as he did Severus, and that was mostly based on his not so misguided distrust of the Malfoy's in general. It was a battle the blonde would always face and perhaps success with this mission could achieve two goals - rescuing the Smithe's and better aligning Draco with the Order for future assignments. It would definitely help pave the way forward to a better future for Draco.

Harry, he suspected, would have an issue with this plan. Even though neither wizard had explicitly discussed where they stood with each other, it was obvious that Harry had started to depend on Severus and would likely be unhappy with him going straight into the Dark Lord's headquarters. He tabled that thought in his mind for now to focus on the present; apparently he'd miss whatever Albus had just said.

"What's on your mind Severus?" his mentor asked, bringing the younger professor back to the present.

"I'm considering how this will impact Harry," Severus said honestly.

"When Harry finds out that two innocent muggles are being held captive, possibly to influence his healer to provide information or access directly to him, I suspect he'll want to join Alastor in the battle," Albus gave a small smile. He was completely right of course, Harry never backed down from a fight against those in danger. That was another one of his Gryffindor traits that would make him an awful Slytherin.

"Unfortunately very true," Severus said, meeting Albus's blue eyes.

"But you expect he won't be happy about you in the field," the headmaster took a guess.

"We've never discussed my job within the Order, so I'm unsure of his reaction," a pained expression crossed his face with the blatant lie.

"Ah, but that's not true is it my boy," Albus said factually, leaving no room for interpretation. "We both know Harry would be devastated should something happen to you on this - or any - mission."

"This was not an issue in my old life where the Dark Lord had stayed dead," Severus spat out frustrated with himself more than anyone else. "What am I supposed to do? Abandon everything I can actually do to help us win this war? Where would that leave Harry? I don't care about some asinine prophecy, he should not be left to handle this alone; he's sixteen for Merlin's sake!"

"Of course not," Albus said calmly. He stood and Severus mirrored him, knowing if he stayed any longer he'd be late for his first class. "Have you heard anything from Alton about Harry's magical records?"

The professor shook his head, "Nothing, meaning he hasn't questioned its authenticity. I've briefed Minerva and we will discuss the real results on Friday while Alton is comparing his tests to the falsified record. Hopefully we'll have a better picture of Harry's magical ability at that point."

Nodding his head in agreement, the headmaster turned towards one of the many bookcases in the room. Taking that as his dismissal, Severus went to leave, but was stopped right before exiting.

"One more thing Severus," the elderly wizard said, "do you know if Alton Smithe is marked?"

It seemed quite obvious that had he been bearing the Dark Mark, Severus - a former Death Eater - would have known by now. To give the headmaster the respect he deserved, the professor went back through his memories - from both realities - to try and determine if he could say without a doubt that the healer was not marked. Unfortunately, nothing stood out one way or the other.

"I do not believe he is," Severus answered, "it's definitely a good place to start. Thank you, Headmaster."

How could he not know something as simple as if Alton carried the Dark Mark? He, himself, didn't go around flaunting his mark, so it was definitely possible Alton had been hiding the mark this whole time. If that were true, he might as well turn in his resignation now because something so obvious should never have escaped his keen observation skills.

The professor stormed into his classroom mere minutes before the students usually arrived. Pulling out the notes from Tonks to familiarize himself with where they ended last week, he lifted his head when two gasps were heard. Based on the shocked faces of Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones - who were the first and second students to arrive - Tonks had not announced her departure from the post and that Severus would be taking over his class yet again.

This should prove to be a fun class.

Once all the students were obediently in their seats with their essays handed in - which the professor briefly considered sending to Tonks for marking - he paired them off to practice nonverbal shielding spells. Given what happened at the Quidditch pitch yesterday, he uncharacteristically made sure not to pair any Gryffindor student with a Slytherin student, less he be prepared for bloodshed; and it would be a toss-up as to where the blood would come from. Even with his precautions in place he wasn't at all surprised when the arguments started in the first half of class.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Draco yelled across the room when a stray jinx - verbally he noted - went flying from Ron, Hermione, and Neville's group over to Draco, Pansy Parkinson, and Theodore Nott's group.

"That's for what your goons did to Harry yesterday!" Ron spat back, taking full responsibility for the stray jinx.

"Excuse me; I think your aim was a little off there," Draco called sauntering over towards the Gryffindors. "Did you even hear yourself? You said my goons which does not mean me."

Ron straightened up taller as the Slytherin approached, "If you think for a second I believe you had nothing to do with it-"

"Don't get me wrong Weaslbee," Draco laughed sardonically with a look of disgust across his face, "I wish I had been there to see it; bet it was hilarious to watch The Chosen One scramble all around. He got what he had coming to him, but Crabbe and Goyle acted all on their-"

"That's enough," Severus called, sweeping across the room to stand directly between the two students. "Mr. Weasley, under no circumstances are you to attack a fellow classmate-"

"Isn't that kind of the whole point of this class?" Ron interrupted with a mumble. The rest of the class physically took a step back away from their professor as the anger radiated from him.

"You were supposed to be practicing non-verbal spells with Mr. Longbottom and Miss. Granger, not at Mr. Malfoy. And I clearly heard your Flipendo from my desk on the other side of the room," Severus said between gritted teeth emphasizing the last five words, "That will be 25 points from Gryffindor and detention. Now everyone back to work!"

Ron's face turned bright red in anger, but Severus knew he wouldn't get another peep out of the teen for the rest of the class.

Overall, once Ron had gotten whatever that was out of his system, the rest of the class continued smoothly. There were little comments here and there, mostly stemming from the Slytherins to the Gryffindors after Ron's attempted attack. He walked around the room making corrections as needed to posture or wand movement while keeping a close eye on each group.

"Mr. Weasley," he called when class was ending, "please stay behind after class to discuss your detention."

As expected, Ron groaned and told his friends to go on without him; that he would meet them at their next class.

"Yes, professor?" Ron asked as he approached the professor's desk. Severus hated dealing with the immaturity of students, especially the older years who knew better than to act as Ron had in his class. He usually enjoyed the N.E.W.T classes as a reprieve from this type of immaturity.

"I don't expect to see any more of that blatant disregard for the rules from you, understood?" he lectured to which Ron merely nodded. "While your loyalty was in the right place, this was not the time to act upon such instincts."

"I'm sorry professor," Ron mumbled more than a little confused about Severus's attitude towards the incident.

"I will not be having you serve detention," Severus started, but raised his hand to stop Ron from interrupting, "however I will ask you to instead write an essay on what you think the phrase keep your friends close and your enemies closer means specifically during times of war. I expect the appropriate textual references included."

"Are you calling Malfoy my enemy?" The Gryffindor asked, even more confused.

"As a professor, do you think I would say something like that?" Severus answered. "I simply think you can use a reminder in subtle and strategy."

Severus reached out and handed his student a note excusing his tardiness from his next class. Ron grabbed the note and his bag, then turned to leave.

"And Mr. Weasley?" The defense professor called out before the redhead reached the door, "I think Harry would be appreciative if you could have dinner with him tonight."

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry had been nervously pacing most of the day as his transfiguration lesson with Hermione wasn't until the hour and half before dinner. He knew he'd annoyed Snape that morning from his nervous tapping of his hand and foot against just about any surface he could find during breakfast. In fact, Harry was sure that the professor made up the early morning meeting with Dumbledore just to get away from him and his nervous energy.

Neville's Herbology lesson was easier than expected, mostly because he'd really focused on Herbology and Transfiguration over the weekend in preparation for today's lessons. Neville filled Harry in on what happened when he'd gone to the hospital wing yesterday and the rest of the students went with Professor McGonagall. Harry made a mental note to ask Snape if Crabbe and Goyle could serve their detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest. With any luck, those two gits would be so traumatized they wouldn't come anywhere near him anymore.

By lunchtime, Harry had managed to work himself back up over the incident yesterday. So what if they humiliated him? Why should he care at all what they did? It's not like everyone couldn't already tell he had no hair. Even with a hat on, it was quite obvious his black, messy hair that usually stuck up every which way was missing. By now he was sure everyone would know he had cancer, if they didn't already know it was Leukemia. Then there was the stunning spell; who did that for him? Hermione was so sure it was him, but how could he do magic without knowing it? Even when he'd done accidental magic growing up, he could definitely feel the magic flowing through him even if he didn't know what it was at the time.

He'd finally come full circle and had exhausted himself emotionally when the parchment appeared in front of his face to announce Hermione's visit. He smiled when in addition to Hermione's name he also saw Ronald Weasley and Dudley Dursley written on it. Running to the door - something he rarely had the energy to do normally - he pulled it open to see his two best friends and cousin waiting to come in.

"Hey guys," he said, gesturing them inside. "What's with the party?"

"Snape thought you could use the company today," Ron said, getting ready to sit down onto the sofa, before Dudley elbowed him in the ribs. "Oh right, I think we're going to study a bit in Harry's room, I have this essay for Snape... Y'know... And we'll let you two..."

Not even trying to hide their intentions, Ron and Dudley walked back to Harry's room leaving him alone with Hermione. She had set out all of their Transfiguration notes like she was fully prepared to keep this all business.

Taking a deep breath, in an attempt to be mature about the situation, Harry said, "I'm sorry 'Mione."

The young witch paused her nervous stacking of notes, peered up at Harry and immediately started spewing out quickly, "I'm the one who's sorry Harry. I should know how sensitive you must be over your magic. I didn't mean it to sound like I knew better than the professors. Of course they have more experience then I do, it's just that-"

"I wish you were right Hermione," Harry sat down on the sofa next to her talking very seriously, "but if I give myself even a little bit of hope and then I'm wrong, it will feel so much worse. At this point, I'm just trying to accept that I'll lose at least some of my magic... You know, be prepared for the worst. "

"I understand Harry," she said sympathetically.

"No, you really don't," he answered her honestly. "If you understood, you wouldn't have said anything about it in the first place. No one can really understand what this feels like ok? So can we just move on and start on our lesson please?"

"Yeah," she said, opening her textbook, "Did you hear Ginny's back? She was at the Great Hall for breakfast this morning..."

But Harry didn't say anything to that. Of course he was happy Ginny had recovered and hoped she would be able to put it all behind her and still have a great fifth year. If somehow the fates only allowed one of them to win their battle, he absolutely wanted it to be her.

Despite their current frigidness towards each other, Hermione perfectly explained the lesson on human transfiguration. It was complicated and Harry doubted that even if he could use magic that he would be able to do it correctly, however she made sure he knew the theory in its entirety. He questioned to himself how much these theory-only classes were actually helping him and not simply filling up his day. Would he realistically be able to jump back into the practical part once he was allowed to use magic again? Probably not without some extra tutoring on top of his normal classes. Even a more depressing thought was that if he had three years of chemotherapy, it would last for a year beyond his time at Hogwarts; meaning he definitely couldn't take N.E.W.T.s on theory alone, so was all of this just a waste?

Right on time, Ron and Dudley came out of Harry's room to meet them for dinner. The kitchen table was set for four that night, something that Harry was grateful for. While he was physically feeling better, these were the hardest times to be quarantined away. He was pretty sure his immune system was now strong enough to stand at least being in class, but he dared not ask Snape about that already knowing the answer he'd receive.

"So Dudley," Ron asked, trying to diffuse some of the tension that could be felt around them, "how long are you staying at the castle?"

"Well," the muggle said casually, "I wanted to stay at least until Harry was better from the pneumonia, so I dunno now."

"If you can, I think you should stay," Harry spoke up without even realizing he'd said it. "Honestly, it's probably safer here for you too. With Voldemort actively trying to get to me, it's only a matter of time before he goes after you."

Harry hadn't thought about that until this very moment - all he knew was that he wanted Dudley to stay - and he now felt guilty for having left his cousin at risk. What would he have done if Voldemort had killed him? Or captured him until Harry gave himself up? Before this summer he would not have cared one bit... no, that wasn't true, he would have cared because Dudley didn't deserve to die for Harry's cause no matter what the teen had done to him.

"I'd like that," Dudley gave a small smile, the two teens had come a long way since Harry first arrived back at Privet Drive, especially because they were the only real family they both had left.

The rest of dinner was spent discussing classes, like how even though Tonks was so much nicer than Snape, they thought Snape was a more effective teacher than the metamorphmagus and ironically how they hoped Snape would get stay more than one year; or some of the hilarious discussions Dudley's been a part of in Muggle Studies. Harry could feel his negative emotions peeling away as the four of them laughed retelling the story of Ron's experience calling on the telephone. Even Dudley managed a good laugh while remembering his father's reaction.

When they started talking about what happened in this morning's defense class and Ron's cancelled detention, Harry couldn't hold back his comment.

"Wait a second," Harry said halfway through dinner, "you attacked Malfoy right in front of Snape? Are you mental?"

Ron laughed, "Probably! I'll admit it wasn't my brightest idea, but I also wasn't in the stands yesterday and had to do something about it. I couldn't just let him get away with doing that to my best Mate."

"No you really didn't have do anything Ron," Harry replied, feeling his face flush a deep red. Now the class would assume he couldn't defend himself on top of everything else. "Not only that, Malfoy really had nothing to do with it."

"As if Crabbe and Goyle do anything without that git's approval first," Ron retorted back. "He might not have been there, but I'm sure he explained to the both of them exactly what to do to you."

"No offense Harry," it was Dudley this time, "having been in Malfoy's position, Ron's probably right. Malfoy's the ring leader, I doubt they'd do anything without him at least knowing about it."

"No offense Dudley," Harry said back in a way that made it clear he was being sarcastic, "but that's nothing to be proud of."

Even though they were talking about Dudley and Malfoy's bullying, Harry couldn't help thinking of his father and specifically the memory he saw in Snape's pensieve. His dad was in the same position as the two bullies; he appeared to be the Marauder's ring leader. Without even realizing it, a horrible thought popped into his head and refused to leave-

If my parents had lived, would I have ended up as my dad, Dudley, and Malfoy?

"Ron," Harry continued, tabling the bully thought for later, "I can tell you for a fact that Malfoy had nothing to do with it. You need to trust me on this one. In fact, I think you guys should just leave him alone from now on."

Harry could tell Ron wanted to argue back, yet he didn't say a word, just stared at Harry as if he had two heads. To the red head's credit, he did let the topic go with just a shake of his head in disagreement.

Before the trio left - a thought that shook Harry's core to think about the moniker that used to include him - he pulled Hermione in for a big hug. She was sniffling into his shoulder, hoping things would work out between them.

"Ask Professor Snape about it Harry," she whispered into his ear, not being able to let the topic go. "I think he suspects something too."

Harry did his best to hide how surprised that statement made him. Hermione had no way of knowing he had told Snape about it yesterday in the hospital wing and the professor hadn't mentioned anything about his own suspicion on Harry's magic. Why would Hermione think that about Snape? Had the two been talking about him? He shuttered at that thought. More importantly, was there anything else the professor was hiding?

Snape arrived only a half an hour after his friends left. Dutifully, Harry was sitting on the sofa working on his potions lessons for tomorrow - so he could feel somewhat prepared - when the professor stormed into the room.

"Everything ok sir?" Harry asked sitting up a little further onto the sofa.

"It's none of your concern," the professor expectantly replied.

"You really should consider getting that tattooed on your forehead," Harry laughed, "it would save you at least a million words over your lifetime."

The glare Snape gave him was almost worth it. In fact, it came really close to rivaling that of Uncle Vernon's, which Harry sometimes enjoyed provoking.

That's the second time I've thought of him today...

Snape came walking into the sitting room - dropping a pile of parchment and a copy of the sixth year defense book onto the table - and took a seat in his normal armchair. Harry had a flashback to when he first arrived in Snape's quarters, back before it felt like home to him and he was nervous about every little step he took. His nerves started jumbling inside him as he picked up on Snape's dour mood.

"May I ask you a question before we start?" The young wizard asked tentatively.

"Of course you can," Snape steepled his fingers waiting to hear what the Gryffindor wanted to know.

"Have I been doing magic?"

It was straight and to the point just as Snape usually appreciated, somehow though it seemed to only anger the professor more. Harry got the feeling there were things Snape was hiding from him and he wanted to know what it was. He could feel himself getting as angry with the man in front of him and in the same way as he did with Dumbledore last year.

"Why do you think you've been doing magic? This wouldn't have anything to do with Miss. Granger's inability to keep her nose out of everyone else's business-"

"She's my friend!" Harry exclaimed; Snape was being completely unfair. "I appreciate her honesty, it's what friends do. And besides, you clearly know something I don't because otherwise you would have answered my question instead of deflecting it. I've picked up on your Slytherin idiosyncrasies by now."

Snape pinched his eyes closed with his fingertips for what seemed like five minutes. Harry wondered if he'd pushed too far, until he heard Snape say, "You've been doing some magic; more so recently than when you first got here."

"What am I doing?" Harry asked, his voice laced with panic, "How can't I know that I'm doing it?"

"I don't know," the professor answered leaning forward towards Harry. "It's little things really, mostly summoning charms and silencing wards. Professor McGonagall is looking into all she can on it and hopefully we'll know more after your testing on Friday."

Harry ran his hands across his head, hating himself for the automatic gesture that only reminded him that he no longer had hair. So he was doing magic for some unknown amount of time. It was a strange and disturbing thought, like waking up and finding evidence of sleeping walking outside and having no recollection of how you'd gotten there.

"If I only have so much magic I can use," he started talking very quickly, "what is this random spelling going to do to it?"

"Spelling?" Snape gave a painful grimace at Harry's half made up word.

"You know what I mean!" He stood and started pacing, "Doing spells randomly! Have I hurt anyone?"

"No," Snape said confidently. "Even the attack on Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle yesterday was innocent."

Harry stopped his pacing and gave Snape a look that said he didn't agree. The last thing he needed was something like what happened with Ginny and the Chamber of Secrets incident to be happening to him. If the rest of the school found out, he'd be targeted for sure.

"We'll figure it out Harry," Snape said in response to the obvious panic attack written across the young wizard's face. "Now sit down so we can go through your defense lesson."

"Oh yeah," Harry said moving onto the other issue he managed to talk himself into earlier, "Why am I even bothering to learn theory again? I can't bloody-well take my N.E.W.T.s on theory only and since I have at least three years of chemotherapy in some aspect, won't I just have to repeat it all anyways?"

A wave of guilt covered Harry as the professor in front of him hung his head in frustration. Harry definitely now got the feeling he'd pushed too far, though at the same time he didn't want to waste his professors' or Hermione's, Neville's, and Malfoy's time with all of the extra tutoring and it did not matter in the end.

"Maybe I should just leave the castle," Harry sat down; his anger having dissipated slightly. For reasons he couldn't place, he was nervous; his stomach was churning and his heart was beating quickly. "What am I even doing here? There's no point in pretending I'll be going on with life as normal after all of this."

"You will Harry," Snape's obsidian eyes met Harry's and the young wizard could feel the pleading within them. "You will go on with life as normal and likely much sooner than you think right now. You're in the castle because it's the safest place for you to be with the Dark Lord actively searching for you; trying to kill you actually. I promise, I will go through everything once we've gotten a chance to test your magic on Friday. That is the day you'll be the strongest and we'll be able to monitor you going forward. We'll talk about it as often as you need to, but we need to see where you are at first."

What could he say about that? Snape was completely right that they need to see where his magic is before they could address any of his many concerns. Harry hated all this waiting the most. Finally, the young wizard opened his defense book with a defiant look still upon his face.

At that moment he made a decision that less than three months ago he would have thought impossible, "Ok Severus, I trust you."

~~~~SS~~~~

Given everything going on, it was only a matter of time before Harry had a breakdown as he had on Monday night. Severus had hoped that getting the good news about the cancer not returning after his pneumonia would be enough for him to stay positive, yet he clearly had more on his mind then anyone could have thought. Once Harry had completed this upcoming round, Severus would commit to restarting Occlumency if for no other reason than to help clear the teen's mind through all of his anxieties.

Wednesday evening he was called to the Headmaster's office directly after his last class of the day - fifth years who still had a long way to go to be on pace for their O.W.L.s. He was in a foul mood after dealing with incompetent students all day on top of his dark mark starting to burn after lunch, which was an odd time of day for his former master to summon his followers and therefore was just another reminder of his supposed disloyalty to the Death Eaters. His latest burn cream was the best of the batches, nevertheless it didn't completely block out the pain when it lasted as long as this had.

Entering into Albus's office, Severus stopped momentarily at the sight of Moody and Draco sitting directly in front of the Headmaster's desk. Both wizards were sitting as far away from each other as physically possible, not at all hiding the disdain they shared for the other.

"Thank you for coming at such short notice, Severus," Albus said, welcoming the defense professor into the room. An extra chair was conjured in the large gap between Moody and Draco, which Severus naturally assumed was for himself.

"Of course Albus," he replied, taking his seat, "to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"We've completed the map of Malfoy Manor and would appreciate your unique skills to help determine the best course of action," the headmaster said gesturing to the large parchment laying on top of his desk.

Standing again, the former spy looked over the document. Everything appeared in place and he was proud of Draco for being able to provide this level of detail as well as collaborating with the likes of Moody. A quick glance over his shoulder proved that the latter must have been difficult to do.

"We need to time it appropriately so that there are as few guards as possible. If we try to penetrate with this level of protection it will be futile," Severus explained turning towards Draco. "I'd recommend an initiation if you can ascertain the approximate date of one in the near future."

"And what benefit does that give us?" Moody challenged not even attempting to hide his frustration.

The defense professor pinched the bridge of his nose trying to maintain his decorum in front of his employer and protégé, "For one, any Death Eater worth a damn will be required to attend an initiation leaving not only a skeleton crew guarding their Headquarters, but also a weaker crew. I guarantee that you would prefer to duel the likes of Pettigrew over Dolohov or Yaxley any day.

"For two, the Order is less likely to get involved in an initiation. Sure, with advanced knowledge we'll be able to patrol the higher priority muggle areas to try to protect the future victims-" Severus took note of Draco's sudden pallor. The teen would carry the memory of Charlie Weasley's death with him for the rest of his life; Severus could only hope it would weaken in time. "However, we won't be attempting to interfere with said initiation meaning that our team would not be split, as it would be if we attempted this on a common raid."

Albus was nodding his head throughout the explanation validating Severus's ideas against any of Moody's potential objections. Severus could not understand how even after he'd lost his spy status by publicly saving Harry's life at the Privet Drive attack, there was still so much doubt in his loyalties.

"Alastor," the headmaster called, "does that all sound acceptable to you?"

Moody stood and approached the map upon Albus's desk, trying not to stand too close to Severus, grumbling under his breath the entirety of the process.

"It's a logical, thought-out procedure," the man eventually said only marginally louder than his internal mumbles. "I'll start briefing my team. Theoretically, how much time would we have to prepare?"

The former spy thought back about the initiations he'd seen throughout his time as an active Death Eater.

"Anywhere from 3 days to a week," he replied confidently. No Death Eater was initiated before the Dark Lord had a chance to do some exploration into the recruit's background. After Severus's own recent - to the Dark Lord anyway - defection, that process would now be much more detailed than in the past.

"Severus, do you believe the hostages will hold on for that unknown amount of time; until an initiation takes place?"

It was a valid question. No one could know the next time the Dark Lord would initiate someone to his inner circle. Severus hated the idea of leaving the Smithe's locked away for another moment longer, yet it wouldn't do the mother or child any good if the rescue team perished in the process before getting to them in the first place. Ultimately, it was best to stay put until there were either less Death Eater activity or lower level Death Eaters protecting them; ideally both.

"They'll have to," the professor said gravely. "If they're being used to coerce Alton to provide information, they'll likely be kept alive for as long as he cooperates with the Dark Lord. If they're being used as a punishment, we may very well go in and find their cell empty.

"It is my belief that the latter has not yet occurred. Alton's disposition has most definitely changed since the kidnapping of his wife and daughter, however it has not been to the point to which one would expect from their deaths."

Unfortunately, Severus would know the minute the two were killed simply by Alton's behavior. Never would the professor imagine he would recognize the grief from the loss of a child in others as he knew he now could. It was true he'd never had a wife, and therefore he was unsure if his grief over Lily's death would be close to the grief Alton would feel over Sarah. If Mary had been killed though... That wound would be impossible to hide especially to those who knew what to look for.

"Thank you gentlemen," Albus announced to the three of them as their intended dismissal. "We shall wait to hear of the appropriate time to move. In the meantime, please prepare your respective teams so we can be ready to go at a moment's notice if need be."

Severus knew that last part was said for Moody's sake; that the former Auror would argue that we need to be prepared for anything, especially when depending on two supposedly former Death Eaters. It was as if the mark that he idiotically wanted placed on his left forearm would forever brand him untrustworthy no matter how much he tried to atone for that sin.

"Severus," the headmaster called as he was turning to leave, "please stay behind."

It was a cold request that chilled the professor to his core. He took his seat again and watched as Moody and Draco left the office without any hesitation.

"Lemon drop my boy?" Albus asked, holding out the small dish on his desk with the yellow sweets.

"Of course not," the defense professor answered, "what is this about?"

"Straight to the point I see," the headmaster replied, "I should hardly have expected any less.

"I've received several complaints regarding your neglect towards your Head of House duties."

Not surprising there.

"Let me guess," Severus responded calmly, "These complaints are from Crabbe and Goyle."

"Primarily so," Albus was seated behind his desk in a very formal manner, "however other parents have expressed dislike to several changes they've seen regarding your house policies."

"Such as?" If he was going to be reprimanded, he was determined to know exactly what he was being accused of.

"It's all very clandestine," Albus explained, "however I believe they're accusing you of targeting certain children, specifically in response to your new found loyalty to the Boy-Who-Lived... their words, Severus."

"And what is your opinion on the matter?" He wasn't about to show his severe dislike towards this conversation. How dare they make accusations such as these? Surely there had been plenty of complaints made by parents of students in the other houses about his behavior throughout the years, and yet now he was getting officially scolded.

Albus narrowed his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles. "On the record, I believe you have naturally been distracted with an ill child and pretending you can maintain the same level of support throughout the school is unnecessary. I stand by my word Severus, if you need to lighten your class load or take additional time off simply say the word."

The professor shook his head. He would handle whatever was sent his way.

"Please do remember my offer stands," Albus pointed out. "Now, off the record, it would be a very clever plan to attempt to draw you out of the safety of Hogwarts by using the children of Death Eaters against you. Given enough feedback, as Headmaster, I might be forced to take action; as I am tonight."

That sounded rather foreboding. What kind of action would Albus be forced to take? He was finally getting back to his classes and they were going well, worst case scenario would be he would lose his Head of House status, which would not be the end of the universe right now. He wouldn't deny that he had been less available to his students than in the past, as well as more fair in his punishments between the houses. In his old reality, that change had occurred gradually after the adoption, yet being placed directly in this reality it would be a shocking change of behavior for him. That was likely the best place to start.

"And how will you be handling the complaints?"

"Easy enough my boy," Albus was too light-hearted for this type of conversation for Severus's liking, "I will simply document our conversation and let the overly concerned parents be aware of such. I still believe you are the right professor for the post of Slytherin Head of House. Simply please do try to be more available to your students.

"Off the record, I suggest trying not to give anyone a reason to seek any disciplinary actions towards you. I am unsure what they are trying to achieve if they end up lobbying for your removal from the school, however it should not be taken lightly. This could be as simple as wanting the recognition of bringing in the traitor or the reasons could be more dangerous to either yourself or Harry."

"I don't particularly wish to find out which of those is correct," Severus replied, nodding his agreement.

Tonight he would need to go back through the memories of his counterpart here and try harder to blend the two personalities, if for no other reason than to protect Harry. It wouldn't matter how difficult it would be to make the adjustments, he would do what was necessary because he certainly could not protect the teen if he were removed from the school or even worse brought before the Dark Lord himself.

~~~~HP~~~~

By Friday, the day of Harry's magical testing, the Gryffindor could no longer contain his nerves over the upcoming examination. He'd barely eaten anything for breakfast or lunch, which was definitely not good on his last day before restarting chemotherapy tomorrow morning. Since up until this point in his tutoring, Harry had yet to complete an official Transfiguration lesson - the first being cancelled because of the vision and the rest because of the pneumonia - Professor McGonagall changed her schedule to be able to conduct his lesson earlier in the day; allowing them the time after dinner for his magical evaluation.

"You seem to be on schedule, taking into account everything you've had going on recently," his Transfiguration professor and guardian said. She was packing up after their lesson about human transfiguration, something Harry definitely could not attempt to do.

"Hermione's really doing a fantastic job at tutoring," the young wizard commented; and it was true, Hermione had always been a great source of information and extra help, so it was a natural transition for her to be a tutor.

"But how far behind am I compared to the rest of the class?" Harry asked suddenly. It was a question that had been weighing heavily on his mind all week and though he'd asked each professor that had come in for tutoring, he didn't expect it to come out so bluntly today.

"That is not a valid question Harry and you know it," the normally stern witch had sympathy written in her eyes as she looked upon her lion. "You cannot expect to be at the same level as your peers at the current moment."

"But I have to be," Harry whined, not at all caring that he sounded a bit like a small child. "What am I supposed to do when I restart classes at the end of the month? Especially when I can't use magic."

McGonagall patted Harry's arm in a patronizing way that angered the young wizard, "I will be working on solving that exact question this month so you will be prepared when the time comes to return to your classes. We will take care of it Harry; you needn't worry yourself over every detail now. Please trust me, Severus, and your other professors to take care of you."

"How is he?" Harry asked randomly. Sometimes he felt like his mind was more chaotic recently then compared to before starting chemotherapy. "Severus I mean... He seems exhausted all of the time."

"He has a lot going on right now," her answer was generic and unsurprising to the Gryffindor wizard.

"Can I do anything to help him?" Harry asked, "I already know I'm a main source of his stress and I don't mean to be... I don't want to burden him."

"It's nothing like how you're thinking," the elderly witch kindly explained. "Severus has always been a private person, even in his own school days, and has always felt the need to take on his issues alone - a trait you both share. He'll reach out to you when he is ready. Unfortunately, there are only a handful of people who can get through the walls he places around himself... Your mother was one; before their falling out of course..."

She trailed off in thought and Harry wondered to himself what their friendship had been like. Had it been similar to his own with Hermione and Ron?

"Now, you go eat dinner and I'll see you later for your aptitude testing. Is there anything you need before then?"

"No professor," Harry replied, collecting his books and notes into his school bag to take back to his bedroom.

"Harry, when we're alone do please call me Minerva," his guardian said, "I am your official guardian, though I doubt Severus remembers that fact."

Somehow it felt strange to call Professor McGonagall by her given name, more so than with Snape. Again, as his Head of House and now guardian, it should have come more naturally than with the former Potions Master. It showed just how much his relationship with Snape had changed.

"I'll do that," Harry eventually said, "Thank you Minerva. I'll see you tonight."

When the nervous young wizard finished whatever little bit of dinner he'd deemed himself able to keep down, he went to his room and grabbed his wand from the bedside table. It had been sitting there since he moved in after the Privet Drive attack, mostly untouched so it wouldn't tempt him into wanting to use his magic. Picking it up, Harry immediately felt a wave of his magic flowing through him from deep within his core into his wand hand and down all the way to his fingertips. He knew he shouldn't, but feeling his magic pulsing so strongly through him, he had to try some magic; wasn't that the whole point of today?

"Lumos"

He squinted when a bright light instantly sprung to the tip of his wand.

So far, so good...

"Nox." The light immediately extinguished.

That all seemed normal.

He walked out into the sitting room still feeling the magic almost swirling around inside of him like a snowstorm in the middle of January. Perhaps it was because he was concentrating on the feeling of it, but he never recalled feeling his magic so excited - for lack of a better word - when he held his wand after the previous summer holidays of not using it. Could the magic be more accessible because it's depleting? That made absolutely no sense, however he also never studied Magical Theory before either. Again, this was something he'd have to ask Snape or maybe even Flitwick or McGonagall about since it was a sore subject between him and Snape lately.

"Accio Notebook" the Gryffindor called out fully expecting to have the muggle notebook he had used for his Transfiguration lesson earlier that afternoon come flying to him. What he ended up catching was definitely not his notebook.

In his hands was a set of bound parchment with a blank black leather cover. Curiously, Harry opened it to see Snape's script written in black ink. He closed the book quickly, catching sight of his name right before the cover closed.

He shouldn't do it - that much was obvious - even if Snape had written something about him in it and it was so tempting to look at. He should put it back immediately, except he had no idea where it came from and he was dying to know what Snape would have written about him. Against his better judgement he decided to take a peek, so he cracked it open and flipped to the page where he saw his name written across the top. Immediately below his name was a note that meant nothing to the young wizard:

Horcrux? - container for

Furrowing his brows in confusion, no matter how hard he tried to decipher Snape's small writing, Harry couldn't make out the last word. What was it, this Horcrux, a container for? He'd never heard of that word and it wasn't surprising because Snape knew a lot of information - especially in the dark arts - that Harry didn't know. Horcrux. The name didn't even sound good. How did Snape think this was related to Harry? There were all sorts of notes along the margins, half of which were scratched out for some reason or another.

Peering further down the page, he found his answer circled in red ink.

Leukemia from Horcrux?

Apparently whatever this container or Horcrux was, Snape believed it had to do with how he'd gotten Leukemia. It made zero sense; how could a container affect his magic's ability to prevent his cancer?

Would have been nice of him to tell me.

The Gryffindor flipped to another page in the book that had all sorts of notes he recognized as his different medications, schedules, and a list of side effects. There was a hand drawn calendar with the dates of his chemotherapy, notated with either IV or IT/IV - obviously depending on which treatment type he was getting that day. Every couple of days there was a circle with an M inside of it and sometimes the M was followed by a plus sign or two plus signs and three of them on only one occasion.

Taking another random flip through the notebook, he saw the letters A.S. at the top of a page followed by 30.08.96? with a series of more tiny, unreadable notes.

Harry thought he made out the name Mary, maybe Lupin , and definitely there was Draco. Beyond that, there was a series of seemingly random dates - which went back before Harry was diagnosed with three of them before had even been born - and a random word here or there. None of it made any sense to the young wizard and he wasn't even sure Snape would be able to decipher it later.

A quick look at the clock over the mantle caused him to panic. Snape would be home in only five minutes and he had no idea where to put the book back! It had come from over his right shoulder, so he stood up and went over to the bookcase that was near the door to where Malfoy's old rooms had been located. There he placed the notebook randomly on a shelf; hopefully the professor would just assume he'd misplaced the book the last time he had put it back. It was weak - at best - but it would have to do because the second the book was returned, the floo roared and Snape walked out. Harry sighed in relief.

"Do you need something to read?" The professor asked, raising a single eyebrow.

"Erm," Harry rubbed the back of his neck making sure not to meet Snape's eyes. "I was hoping you had something to help with my Transfiguration essay. I can't really go to the library like I normally would for it."

The young wizard hoped his lie wasn't too obvious, especially because he really was going to ask if Hermione could bring him several library books at their next tutoring session for that exact purpose.

The best lies are built on a fraction of the truth, right?

"I'm sure we can arrange to get books on whatever topic you need, assuming I do not have a sufficient selection... which I would not for Transfiguration," Snape said taking off his teaching robes and hanging them up. Gesturing to Harry's wand in his right hand, Snape added, "I see you're ready."

"Yeah," he said warily, "Can we go?"

"Of course. We'll be floo-ing to Minerva's office and then we'll go with her to the Room of Requirement. Albus and Alton are already there setting up," Snape pulled out his wand and summoned a stack of files that came out from one of the other bookshelves. "Let us go."

Harry wondered what exactly the Headmaster had asked for when he entered the Room of Requirement. There was a long dark wooden table with five comfortable looking chairs around it - similar to one he'd seen on the telly that was used in a corporate office setting - each place had a set of parchment, ink, and quill, and up front was a chalkboard complete with different colored chalks he was sure he'd seen in his early primary school days. In the center of the table was a basket filled with an assortment of objects of all different shapes, sizes, and he would assume weights. For some reason he hadn't expected this to be so formal, and he started to get so nervous, his palms were sweating against his Holly wand.

Healer Smithe and Professor Dumbledore were already seated with Dumbledore taking the head of the table and the healer to his right. Between the two men were sheets of parchment scattered on the table and they appeared to be putting them into some kind of order that Harry could not make out from his vantage point at the door. His heart started beating against his chest and into his throat, in a way he couldn't remember happening since the Triwizard Tournament... any of three tasks.

Harry felt a firm arm reach around his back and a strong hand squeeze the side of his shoulder. The Gryffindor hadn't realized he had stopped walking upon entering the room, but now looked over to his left and saw Snape had his arm wrapped around him helping to guide the young wizard into the room.

"Breathe," the defense professor said, picking up on Harry's anxiety, "this will be easy and harmless."

"Yeah," Harry tried to say, only instead it came out as a croak.

"Welcome Harry," Dumbledore greeted, gesturing Harry to take a seat. The nervous Gryffindor sat in the first seat he reached, afraid his legs would collapse before he could make it any further. Snape and McGonagall both entered behind him and gave their greetings to the two men in the room. Snape sat directly next to Healer Smithe, which also happened to be in front of Harry, and McGonagall was to his right, between him and Dumbledore.

"Good evening Harry," Healer Smithe called out from the other side of the table, "how has this week been for you?"

"Brilliant," Harry said, which was the truth. Even with still having a cough from the pneumonia that landed him in coughing fits every-so-often, it was one of the best weeks since he'd been diagnosed; of course he also wasn't doing anything to stay in remission, and it had been a constant reminder to him how quickly the Leukemia could come back without continuing the chemotherapy.

"Ready to restart tomorrow?" The healer gave a small chuckle.

"Absolutely not," the young wizard said, ignoring the solace in Professor McGonagall's eyes. "But I'm more than ready to try out some magic."

Harry's cue to transition away from chemotherapy and onto his magical testing worked perfectly because they started going through what he should expect from each of these sessions; which would be done the day prior to the start of each chemotherapy round going forward. It was something he would actually be excited for if it weren't that they were testing to see how long it would be until his magic was completely gone. He closed his eyes trying to imagine he was getting evaluated for something completely different... his Auror training would work.

The professors put Harry through a series of magical tests and challenges, during which Healer Smithe had a diagnostic spell on him at all times to monitor his magical core for signs of exhaustion. Harry hoped that given how long it had been since his last chemotherapy, he wouldn't have to worry about magical exhaustion, yet there would likely come a time when he would; a thought that depressed him greatly.

Jumping straight into it, for the charms tests they had him summon objects of different sizes and at different distances; measuring how quickly each spell reacted. Then he had to levitate objects of varying weights to specific heights that were recorded based on if the object made it to the required height - which they all did without any issues - and the time it took for each object to reach that height, plus how long he could hold it at that height. Honestly, it was kind of fun to simply use his magic this way... for almost no purpose than to just use it.

Transfiguration was a little more complicated. First he had to vanish several of the objects on the table; unfortunately he left two of the dozen quills that were in the box of school supplies, knocking some points from that test. They then had him transfigure a mouse into a plate, but it ended up being just a bit more furry than it should have been. Professor McGonagall didn't seem at all disappointed with his level because as she put it "Transfiguration takes a bit more magic and precision than Charms", giving Harry the distinct impression that she'd gotten into this debate with Professor Flitwick before.

Since there wasn't any need to test Potions or Herbology, that only left Defense Against the Dark Arts. Snape stood up from the table drawing the Gryffindor's attention away from the chalkboard with his results and over to the practice dummies he had not seen when entering the room. Harry took his stance against one of the dummies with Snape standing at his right and Healer Smithe to his left. Harry could still feel the distinct tickle of the diagnostic charm watching over his magical core, however he refused to let that distract him. This was his best subject and the one Snape currently taught; fueling his desire to do well on this test.

Snape spelled the dummies to perform several simple jinxes so Harry could perform the appropriate counters for each one - similar to his O.W.L last June - before getting into a duel where Harry finally ended it with an expelliarmus, which predictably he performed perfectly. By the end, Harry was sweating and completely out of breath. This was the most physical he'd been since starting chemotherapy and even Healer Smithe took notice, reminding him that once he was into the next phase he should plan to start a daily exercise routine.

Harry nodded, "Before we finish, can I try out some of the non-verbal spells from my lessons?"

He had been hoping one of the tests would include things from the lessons he'd been taking this year. Dumbledore was quick to point out that since those lessons were so new, they would have nothing to compare him to and that was the purpose for these tests. Something like non-verbal spells though, wouldn't be too different from his verbal assessment or at least that's what Harry thought and he said so to the group in front of him.

"No," Snape said instantly, not at all even attempting to confer with the other adults in the room. "I don't want to risk that amount of magic after everything you have done tonight."

"Severus," Healer Smithe started, "his magical core has obviously taken some depletion tonight, however it's not anywhere near where he'd be in danger of magical exhaustion."

"I said no," the defense professor sternly replied before turning to Professor McGonagall for support, "And as Harry's official guardian, I'm sure Minerva will agree."

Whatever Snape managed to communicate to the Transfiguration Professor, it worked as her demeanor changed from light and excited to closed and cautious.

"I agree with Severus," the Scottish witch said with authority, "it's too much for tonight."

Harry nodded to the defense professor and went to take his seat, until he was stopped when Healer Smithe grabbed his arm. On instinct, Harry brandished his wand, then immediately lowered it upon seeing his healer's kind face. In the few seconds that process took place, he was oblivious to Snape and Dumbledore also reaching for their wands; something that did not go unnoticed by McGonagall though.

"Sorry Healer Smithe," Harry said embarrassed, "bad habit I'm afraid."

"Not a problem Harry," the man said reassuringly, "You've done an amazing job and hopefully tomorrow we'll have some answers about your magical core. I do need one more test though before you can go for the night."

"Sure thing," Harry said. He was enjoying getting to do some magic and wasn't in any hurry to stop. "What do you need?"

"Riddikulus," the healer said flipping through the notebook in his hand, "should be an easy one for you."

"Since I did it perfectly on my O.W.L.s, I think I'll be fine," the Gryffindor said confidently as he approached the wardrobe that was shaking. "Just a warning if you didn't know, my boggart is a dementor."

Snape stood off to the side with his wand brandished, just in case. Harry thought it was odd; did Snape really think he couldn't get rid of a simple boggart? The professor knew he got an Outstanding on his O.W.L, so it shouldn't come as a surprise to the man that he could do it. Then a thought popped suddenly into Harry's head -

I wonder what Snape's boggart is?

He didn't have time to think too hard about that as the wardrobe opened and Harry waited for the dementor to appear. Yet it wasn't a dementor at all, instead a green light flashed from behind the door and Snape's body came tumbling out; there was no doubt the professor was dead. The sight took Harry by such surprise, he jumped backwards gripping his wand tighter while willing his breathing to even out so he could think straight.

"Riddikulus!" Harry yelled and nothing happened. He closed his eyes to think; having no idea how to make the dead body of the only father figure he had left humerus. Having lost so much in his short life, deep down he knew he couldn't lose Snape too.

Swallowing hard, he tried a second time, "Riddikulus!"

Again, nothing happened. After the second failed attempt, the young wizard was pushed aside and in his place stood Snape. Harry watched as the dead Snape boggart started transforming and Voldemort stood before them. Snape took a half-step forward and yelled, "Riddikulus". The Voldemort boggart started to do an Irish Step Dance across the Room of Requirement before being sent back into the wardrobe.

Harry was panting on the floor when Snape bent down in front of him to help him back onto his feet.

"We're done here," the professor called out to the healer "I take it you have everything you need?"

"Yes, more than enough," Healer Smithe cryptically replied, "I'll see you both in the morning."

Harry was concerned about the first statement his healer had made; did his lack of appropriately dealing with the boggart equate to something negative with his magic?

Leading Harry out of the room, the professor called over his shoulder, "Minerva I'll see you later tonight."

They didn't wait to hear her response as Harry was swept out of the room and they started heading home.

~~~~SS~~~~

Harry's boggart was unexpected and caught the former spy completely by surprise. It was common knowledge at Hogwarts - ever since Harry's third year - that the Gryffindor's boggart was a dementor and something he should have been able to easily take down. Even in Severus's old reality, if Harry's boggart had changed from a dementor, he had no knowledge of it. Based on the surprised expression from the Gryffindor tonight when the boggart appeared, Harry hadn't expected the change of form either. Reacting purely on instinct, Severus made the decision to get Harry out of there before Alton could ask too many questions about the form or the fact that Harry could not defeat it so easily.

Now the only thoughts going through his mind as they made their way through the familiar corridors into the dungeons was how Harry would react to the news about the rescue mission. Leading the reconnaissance team, Severus would be required to be on-site at Malfoy Manor when the mission was in progress; plus it had recently been determined that he would be back-up for Lupin should something happen to the werewolf during the operation. After tonight's events, the former spy explicitly knew that this Harry would feel very close to how his old Harry would have felt about him going. They had discussed his spying days in his old reality, going as far as discussing what would happen should Voldemort return and Severus were called upon to resume his former role. In the end, they had come to the conclusion that as Harry's legal guardian there was no way of Severus reclaiming his old position anyway, yet it was clear Harry would have felt abandoned; something he never wanted his son to experience on his account. However, here it was much more complicated; he couldn't abandon his team and leave two innocent people for dead no matter how much he wanted to stay with Harry and deep down he knew the Gryffindor would ultimately understand.

"It caught me off guard sir," Harry said the moment the door to their quarters closed behind them. "I was thinking about what your boggart could be... and it led to thoughts about... I'm sorry."

Severus guided Harry to the sofa and helped him sit down before kneeling in front of him. There was no way Harry would know that the knowledge of how close they had become these last three months could be detrimental in the wrong hands. It was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord knew and the price tag on his life would likely increase with this information.

"There is nothing to apologize for; it happens to the best of us," Severus explained. "Outside of the boggart, you did very well tonight. I think we've got a good idea of what's going on with your magic now."

He would wait until Minerva stopped by later that night to discuss the details, but based on what he'd seen tonight - in relation to Harry's real file - his magic was not depleting. In fact, based on what he had seen tonight as well as the previous weeks, had he allowed Harry to try out the non-verbal spells, the professor had no doubt he would have succeeded and likely after the first try, giving Alton more information then they wanted him to have at the moment.

"It's just..." Harry started wringing his hands in his lap.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about," Severus replied, taking a guess at what was bothering the Gryffindor. Harry's face immediately flushed. "Go off to bed, you have a busy day tomorrow."

"Thank you Severus," Harry said sighing in relief, standing to head back to his bedroom. "G'night."

"Sleep well Harry," The professor said.

Severus was intimately aware of how difficult it would be for Harry to have a conversation like that after living as many years as he did in neglect. This was one of those situations where actions spoke louder than words and they both had a very good idea where their relationship stood.

Sitting in his office, after Harry was asleep in his bed, Severus stretched his neck trying - in vain - to release some of the stress he was physically feeling. For a week that should have been easier overall, it was definitely a trying one on the defense professor. Harry's rant before their lesson on Monday caught Severus completely off guard as to how much potentially losing his magic was affecting Harry. He had considered offering the young wizard the chance to go back to classes for the week, as his immune system was likely well enough to handle the other students, but then decided against it as it would only prove how much further behind Harry was from his classmates and spotlight the fact that he was not supposed to use his magic. Given that Alton likely had already informed the Dark Lord of the potential to Harry's magical loss - and would now hopefully have a fake confirmation of it - keeping this information from the other students had more to do with Harry's outlook on his future than making sure the Death Eaters were unaware of it. In fact, the more he worked through their larger strategy, it would be better if the other side expected Harry to become an easy target and then he could surprise them with his true strength.

Of course, that's only if these magical outbursts aren't draining him further, Severus reminded himself. It very well could be that he'd have a year or so of strong magic followed by nothing. Severus vowed to not stop searching for a way to save Harry's magic until he either found the answer or the day came where Harry's magic was indeed gone forever.

The professor was going over his old school records, which had become Harry's for this purpose, and was comparing them to Harry's true records. It wasn't every day that a student was able to peruse their Hogwarts file and Severus was surprised to see how promising his professors had evaluated him throughout the years. Thinking back it never seemed to matter to him what his marks and aptitude were; he knew he wanted to get a Potions Mastery and - specifically in his later years - join the Death Eaters. What he wouldn't give to write a letter to himself back then and explain where his life would end up if he continued to follow that road. Could he have stopped himself from ruining his friendship with Lily? No, it wouldn't have mattered, he would have needed to tell himself not to join the Dark Lord and only then he may have had a chance to be with Lily. Would Harry still be enough of himself had Severus been his biological father instead of his adoptive one? What would have happened if Harry hadn't defeated the Dark Lord on the night Lily died? Too many what-if's flooded his mind to keep straight.

"I take it this is where we are meeting tonight?" Minerva asked bringing Severus's attention back to what was in front of him; he had completely missed her entrance into his office and that should never happen for a myriad of reasons.

"Naturally," he answered, closing the file in front of him, "it's the only place, outside of Albus's office, I can guarantee our privacy."

Coming into the room, she sat down in the chair in front of his desk and - quite bravely in Severus's opinion - pulled one of the books that was sitting on the desktop; it just so happened to be the one on genealogy.

"Is it possible something has been blocking Harry's magic this whole time?" She asked holding the book away from his grasp when he attempted to retrieve it. "Doing a little light reading yourself Severus?"

"I do not think that is any of your business," he said, summoning the book out of her grasp. "I think someone is getting far too comfortable down here."

"Oh I agree," Minerva smiled, "but it's not me. I imagine you were as surprised as the rest of us at Harry's change of boggart?"

He didn't want to discuss this, except he'd be playing right into her hand if he refused.

"I think it makes perfect sense given everything that's happened since the end of term last year; losing Black, his diagnosis, the Privet Drive attack," he said logically counting out everything that had happened in such a short amount of time. "Going back, why would you think something was blocking Harry's magic?"

Minerva gave him a look to say she wasn't going to drop the previous topic forever, but in the meantime she'd let it go. She placed the same book that Albus had brought when they discovered Harry's magical core pain - Magical Theory Vol IV - The Life and Death of the Magical Core - upon his desk; this time small pieces of parchment were littered throughout as bookmarks. Hopefully this meant she'd found something.

"To summarize my theory," the elderly witch started, "if something had been holding his magical core back, it could explain why his magic is growing as the muggle medication is breaking down whatever walls were holding it in."

The Horcrux?

If his theory was that the piece of the Dark Lord's soul prohibited Harry's magic from healing away the Leukemia cells, what's to say it didn't have other impacts on his magic overall? It made sense, yet left several other questions.

"Is that even possible?" He asked skeptically.

"If there wasn't at least one theory of such a thing, do you think I would I have even mentioned it?" Minerva huffed, insulted. "Who has been the one pouring over the magical theory textbooks; you or I?

"There's still so much unknown about magical cores, however one theory is that there are ways magic can be amplified or suppressed; in fact at least one wizarding community believes squibs simply have a block to their inherent magic."

Being in a profession where he often tested out his own theories and on occasion - such as with his modified burn salve - they were wrong, Severus couldn't refute another witch or wizard's work simply because he didn't personally agree with it. If they believed squibs had a block to their magic, how could they explain muggleborns where magic came up seemingly at random. Furthermore, why wasn't more being done to break down these supposed "blocks"?

"Hypothetically speaking, if there was something that could be blocking Harry's magic," Severus asked carefully, "what difference would that make to him?"

"Well for one, if the block were removed he would have access to more of his magic than prior to its removal," she said in a serious voice, "and it may be why we are seeing spikes of his magic appearing stronger now. The muggle medications could be breaking holes - so to say - releasing spurts of amplified magic."

He would need to discuss this with Albus where there would be no need for secrecy regarding the Horcrux. While he obviously knew he could trust Minerva, the Horcrux information needed to stay strictly between as few people as possible. When dealing with magical theories such as horcruxes and magical cores, there wasn't really any definitive proof of anything, making it difficult to make any solid decisions on it. They were getting closer, he could tell that much, and he needed to uncover it before Alton or the Dark Lord.

"Thank you Minerva," he said, grateful to have people by him to help work all of this out.

Severus and Minerva didn't finish with their examination of Harry's magical records until after midnight. With thoughts of magical cores and Horcruxes in the back of his mind, Severus fell into an anxious sleep. Unfortunately, as with the last three times at the start of Harry's long chemotherapy weeks, the young wizard could not have a restful slumber and Severus was awoken to the sound of the the Gryffindor screaming so loud it was as if he were in the professor's bedroom. Severus's eyes sprung open as the adrenaline instantly started to race through his body.

Running out of his bedroom and into Harry's, he found the teenager in bed screaming - unknowingly with a Sonorus to amplify his voice - while thrashing in his bed and writhing in pain. This was not the first time he had seen Harry have a nightmare, but it was the first time he appeared to be in physical pain from it. Reaching down he grabbed Harry's shoulder and shook him to try and wake him up.

"Harry!" He called out and when the teen did not react he tried again, only louder this time. "Harry! Wake up, you're having a nightmare!"

Frustrated, he quickly scanned the room trying to decide what he could do to help wake the teen up, coming up with only one - very bad - idea. Before he was able to cast the Aguamenti spell, he saw Harry's scar had burst open and was actively bleeding down his forehead. Severus's heart broke as tears started leaking down Harry's cheeks.

It's a vision.

"NOOOOOOO!" the young wizard screamed as he bolted upright in his bed. Without even stopping to take in his surroundings, the Gryffindor held his hands to his face and started crying.

In that moment, Severus could see how exhausted Harry was not only from the cancer and the chemotherapy, but also from the life he had lived; from being the small 18 month old toddler who saw his parents murdered and then was almost murdered himself, from being neglected all the rest of his life by those who were supposed to care for him, from being The Chosen One who time and again was needed to save everyone else. This child, who was asked to give everything he could with nothing in return, needed someone for himself.

Severus sat down on the edge of Harry's bed and pulled the distraught teenager into a firm embrace. Harry didn't try to pull away, instead he melted into the feeling of Severus's strong arms around his frail body; the feeling of someone who was there for him, someone who would help him, someone who loved him.

"They're dead," it took a second for Severus to comprehend the muffled words Harry had said against his chest. When Harry pulled away from him, he could see fear and defeat in the teenager's eyes, "He killed them! He killed them all."

~~~~AU SS~~~~

What was he thinking bringing the Boy-Who-Lived home to Spinner's End with him? Somehow it made perfect sense to Severus when he demanded that Albus not send Harry back to his relatives' house on Privet Drive, that he would take over Harry's care by becoming his guardian. At the time he wasn't even positive the Ministry would allow him to become anyone's guardian, let alone Harry Potter's, and he'll never know what Albus had to do to push the paperwork through so quickly, but in less than the week it took to clear out his classroom, he was given temporary guardianship and they left for Cokeworth. What had he been thinking again?

Severus could try to convince himself that he had been thinking of Lily; of how disappointed she would have been with him for not stepping in sooner. It wasn't as if he'd known how Harry had been living all of these years. Sure, he could have probably guessed - based on his history with Petunia alone - had he not been wallowing in the loss of the only woman he'd ever loved; the woman who had every right to leave him. Now somehow her son, and the son of his nemesis, was upstairs asleep in the bedroom Severus had grown up in.

However, he knew that was a lie. Ultimately, deep down he had been thinking of his own miserable childhood and how much he had wished someone would have done for him what he was now doing for Harry. How often had he sat in that same bedroom Harry was now sleeping in wishing someone would have stepped in and taken him away from his drunk, abusive father and from his mother who - even though he knew she loved him - resented him more? If he were being honest, he saw too many similarities between himself and Harry to ignore. Someone had to speak up and help the child.

Things had seemed easier back at Hogwarts where they had lived together for the first week after the term ended. Once the Fidelius was in place - with Albus as the secret keeper - and his classroom was cleaned out, they came to Spinner's End where they would live for the remainder of the summer. This was only their second night here and it felt much too personal to have the almost 12-year old in his childhood home. Severus was not the type of person to share his personal life with anyone and now he had James Potter's son here.

The Potions Master was down in the sitting room - which Harry called a library - attempting to catch up on the latest potions journal with those thoughts running rampant through his mind. They had a busy day getting Harry settled, or at least as much as he could given the worn down condition of the house. Most of the day consisted of cleaning out his old bedroom from the layers of dust, Slytherin decor, worn out clothing, and books on the dark arts. The room was small and right now in disrepair, yet Harry seemed extremely grateful to be there. After the Gryffindor had gone off to bed tonight, Severus created a list of all the things that needed to be addressed in the house to make it suitable for a child to live in - even if only for a couple of months out of the year - and tomorrow they would start tackling it. Harry insisted that he wanted to help as much as he could on the renovations and the professor was more than a little nervous how they would work together given their complicated history thus far.

In addition to the work to do on the house, Severus did not hesitate to add "clothes shopping" to his list of things to do. Watching Harry unpack his trunk today, he had gotten the impression that Harry's clothing was in dire need of replacing. The Gryffindor had not said a word about them as he placed the oversized clothing into the wardrobe, most of which had either holes or were so worn he could almost see through them. It was easy to tell that Harry's aunt and uncle had never purchased any clothing specifically for their nephew. Understanding how embarrassing it would be for Harry when they finally discussed this, the professor was preemptively trying to prepare for how to address the issue as sensitively as possible; something that was out of character for him.

It was almost midnight when he was finally checking the security wards and heading off to sleep. Severus took an extra couple of steps towards Harry's room to make sure the light was out - which it was - when he heard rustling and talking through the door. Brandishing his wand, just in case, the former spy approached the door both cautiously and silently. Listening carefully, he could hear Harry on the other side sounding like he was in a struggle. His mind immediately flew to the worst case scenario; somehow Albus had been compromised as their secret keeper and a Death Eater managed to get past his wards and into the house.

Turning the door knob slowly, so he could keep his element of surprise to the intruder, Severus peered through the cracked door. He quickly released the breath he was holding when he realized there was no one in the room besides Harry, who was still in bed but thrashing around in his bed covers, having what appeared to be a nightmare. As Severus approached the bed, the small boy was tangled all up in his bed sheets moaning almost indecipherable words. Severus managed to make out two of them and they were "Vernon'' and "Voldemort"; neither of which could be a good sign for his nightmare.

"Harry," the professor called out, shaking the young wizard's shoulder. "Harry, wake up, you're having a nightmare."

At first Harry did not respond, so Severus sat down onto the edge of the bed and called for him again. This time the young wizard awoke in a panicked fright.

"Ahhhh," Harry yelled, bolting upright in his bed.

"You're safe," Severus said standing up from the bed, completely unsure how to handle this type of situation.

"M'sorry professor," the Gryffindor said embarrassed, "did I wake you up?"

"Not at all," the professor replied, "I was simply on my way to bed and heard you struggling. It appears as if your bed covers might have won."

Awkwardly, Severus helped Harry untangle himself from his sheets and bedspread. Once he was freed, an uncomfortable silence fell over the two as neither knew what to do next.

"Erm," Harry started, "Thank you sir. I think I'm ok now."

Taking a close look at the boy in front of him, Severus could see how tired he appeared. How long had he been plagued with nightmares? Between his childhood and the whole Voldemort encounter less than a month ago, it didn't take a mind healer to guess why he was having them.

"Do you want to talk about your nightmares?" He asked Harry quietly, questioning yet again why he thought he was qualified to take care of a child. He hadn't the slightest idea of what to do.

"No, not really sir," Harry said in an equally quiet voice giving Severus the impression that he didn't know how to act around an adult who actually asked him how he was doing or feeling; especially when that adult was his hated Potions professor.

Sighing in frustration with himself, Severus thought back to one of the few times his mother had actually acted like a mother. Pulling his wand out, he summoned a glass of milk from the kitchen and using a heating charm, he warmed it up before handing it to Harry.

"This will help settle you back to sleep," the professor said as Harry took a small sip followed by another larger one.

"Thank you professor," the Gryffindor said, giving a smile that told Severus somehow the two of them would be alright together after all.

Saturday 5th, October 1996

~~~~HP~~~~

It may have been because of the lingering effects of the pneumonia, but Harry absolutely could not breathe causing him to panic even more than he already was over the vision. No matter how hard he tried to suck in the oxygen his brain and lungs so desperately needed, it felt like he was breathing through a narrow straw and he would never be able to get nearly enough. Suddenly, the blurry colors disappeared and all around him was black, only now instead of fear, he felt comforted. Strong arms were practically swallowing his small frame on both sides of him.

"Breathe," he heard a low voice whisper in his right ear, "you need to take slower breaths before you hyperventilate. Try to match my breathing."

Against his chest, he could feel the rising and falling of someone breathing. Without being consciously aware of it, Harry started breathing in the same rhythm of the person talking to him and his brain started to clear. He could see the room around him materialize back into his bedroom at home as his glasses were slipped back onto his face seemingly on their own.

Home... I'm safe at home.

Snape was sitting next to him with his arm wrapped tightly around Harry's small shoulders and the young wizard used that feeling to help ground himself in the present; where there was no death or destruction surrounding him. He was shaking and could taste the salty tears that had coated his lips and the coppery blood from the place he had accidentally bitten his tongue.

He felt a warm wet cloth placed softly against his forehead - to clean the blood from his scar he now realized - and it brought his attention upwards where he met Snape's very worried eyes. He expected to feel the brush of the professor's mind against his own, and was genuinely surprised when it did not happen. He would almost prefer that instead of having to explain it all to the professor. With his panic attack now under better control, and his scar no longer bleeding, he drew his knees to his chest and laid his head on top of them silently wishing all of this to end; the death, the fear, and the torture.

Everytime Harry closed his eyes, flashes of the vision were forcibly cast across them:

The long road that Harry was all too familiar with was illuminated by the soft orange glow of the street lamps. The asphalt street and front gardens of each identical house were damp as if it had recently rained; in fact Harry could almost smell the distinct scent of freshly cut grass mixed in with rain.

Back in his bedroom, Harry's breathing started to increase yet again and his eyes shifted back and forth beneath his eyelids trying to push the vision away from him.

There had to be almost fifty Death Eaters walking up and down the street unlocking doors with a flick of their wands. It was too easy; the muggles didn't stand a chance against them. He could hear the screams of each man, woman, and child as they were dragged from their beds and thrown down into the street. Voldemort himself was standing tall in front of his prisoners.

The orange glow from the street lamps disappeared as glass shattered from the bulbs that were forcibly broken by his loyal followers; leaving the street blanketed in almost pure darkness. Cries and screams were deafening as each resident tried to escape the inevitable. Their efforts would be futile. On his command, green lights were cast from his followers' wands until the entire street went eerily silent.

"Finish it," the dark wizard called to the men and women in dark robes and masks. Without needing any other direction, the Death Eaters turned away from their victims to cast their spells into each house until the entire street was engulfed in flames.

"He's at Privet Drive...," Harry said, his voice quivering from a combination of fear, grief, and adrenaline, "it's all gone... He's killed them all... He knows I'm not there and he killed them anyways. They all died for nothing!"

He was pulled closer to Snape's side and felt the man's rough hand on the back of his head. For the first time, Harry wasn't embarrassed about needing the comfort or about the tears that were still falling down his cheeks. What he'd just witnessed was the most horrific scene to date. Most of the residents in his old neighborhood hardly knew him and yet they had all been killed because of him; because Voldemort was trying to torture him. The Gryffindor couldn't think of any other reason.

Snape tried to move, as if to stand, until Harry grabbed a handful of his bed shirt, silently begging him to stay. If he moved from this position, the young wizard would know it was all real. Sitting here - against the man who literally traveled across the universe to save him - Harry felt safe for one of the few times in his life. Snape would help him, Snape would do whatever it took to make this better, Snape would never leave him.

"I need to contact the headmaster," the professor said, pulling Harry away, still holding firmly onto his right arm in an effort to keep Harry from falling back into the memory of the vision. Using his wand, the professor sent his doe patronus with a message for Albus to dispatch a team to Privet Drive for a possible Death Eater raid. Turning his attention back to the young terrified wizard he said, "Please tell me what you saw."

Harry nodded his head and with a shaking voice he started rambling, "He summoned his followers... There had to be about forty or fifty of them... At first it was fuzzy, like I was underwater...

"Then they went to Privet Drive... He knows I'm not there... He knows my relatives aren't there anymore... But he still... Everyone was in the streets... Then the fires."

He knew he wasn't making much sense, except that was the best he could do. It was all jumbled in his mind with flashes projecting across his eyes and the screams blaring into his ears. In the room, a bright light appeared in the shape of a Phoenix - Dumbledore's patronus.

"Stay put Severus," the voice of the headmaster said through the patronus. "I will be there shortly."

The professor nodded his head, though Harry wasn't sure a patronus could see, and then Snape helped to pull the Gryffindor up from the bed, "Let us go into the sitting room and wait on Albus."

It was Harry's turn to nod. Entering the sitting room, he caught sight of the clock on the mantle, it was already half past four in the morning and he had less than four hours until Healer Smithe would be there for his next round of chemotherapy. Harry was exhausted, not necessarily from the lack of sleep, as he'd been able to catch up on a lot during the week. It was from the constant battle he was always going through against his own body and mind. He was fighting his body against the Leukemia, his mind against Voldemort, and the young wizard couldn't help questioning how much of "just Harry" was left in either of those. Pulling up the last of his strength, he was determined not to lose himself in all of this.

They could not have been sitting on the couch for more than ten minutes when the floo turned bright green and Dumbledore stepped out. The elderly wizard was wearing a conservative set of dark grey robes without any embellishments whatsoever on them. If the situation had been different, Harry would have chuckled because he didn't think the headmaster owned such a plain set of robes.

"All is well," the leader of the Order of Phoenix said carefully, kneeling down in front of Harry taking in the teens distraught appearance.

"That's impossible," Harry said, shivering and shaking his head violently as dread filled him up inside. Snape, who was standing behind him, summoned Harry's red blanket and draped it over his shoulders. It had the distinct feel of a warming charm that penetrated the cold layers of his skin. "I saw it happen! The entire street was completely destroyed; houses were burned down! The dead bodies were everywhere and the Death Eaters were all there!"

"Is it possible it was not Privet Drive you saw?" Dumbledore asked in doubt.

"No," the Boy-Who-Lived said quickly, almost interrupting the man in front of him, "I lived there for almost 15 years sir. I know what I saw. If it didn't happen, then it's going to... He's got to be planning it! You can't let him get away with it! You can't let them all die!"

"It could have been another false vision" Snape suggested coming around to sit in the armchair on the left. "As a way to..."

"To torture me?" Harry finished for him furiously.

"Precisely," Snape answered dejectedly.

"It was so real," Harry was still shivering, not from the cold this time; from pure fear. His body was flooded with fear for the people who used to be his neighbors, even if he hadn't known them well, even if they never stood up against the Dursley's to help him when it was obvious they had some kind of knowledge of what went on in #4. They didn't deserve to be murdered, except they hadn't been murdered... it wasn't real after all. Then the fear he had for the innocent muggles morphed into fear for himself. What would happen to his mind if Voldemort kept on torturing him like this? How long before he went crazy or completely paranoid?

"I will keep the order on high alert just in case," Dumbledore explained standing between the professor and student. The two men appeared to be having a conversation without a word spoken between them. "Severus, should you hear of a summons either directly or indirectly, please let me know immediately and we will send a team back out to Little Whinging."

Snape flexed his left arm and Harry knew the professor had to be dreading the idea of receiving a summons. Harry found himself wondering how often the professor had the burning pain because it seemed less now, or perhaps Harry had simply been too self-absorbed to take notice. That last thought pained him inside and guilt filled him alongside the fear. How could he be so selfish to not know how Snape was doing after everything the man had done for him?

"Do you think you can try to get some sleep?" Snape asked suddenly giving Harry the impression he'd missed pieces of the conversation around him.

"Can I stay out here? On the sofa?" The young wizard pleaded knowing he'd already be allowed to. For some reason, he had the impression that his other self - the one from Snape's old reality - had slept on the sofa often.

"Of course Harry," Snape answered and pulled out his ebony wand to summon Harry's pillow from his bedroom, then set it at the end of the sofa. Harry laid his head down gently before the professor carefully arranged the blankets around him making Harry feel warm and comfortable; inside and out. "The headmaster and I will be right in the kitchen should you need me."

"Thank you Severus," Harry yawned, demonstrating that he was more tired than he let on. "One more thing sir?"

Snape stood still with his eyebrows raised beckoning Harry to continue.

"How did you know I was having a vision?"

"Ah," Snape said giving his head a small shake in disbelief, "I was awoken by your amplified voice; you were screaming."

Immediately, the young wizard's face flushed bright red, "m'Sorry sir."

"Harry, please do not apologize for needing help," Snape said seriously, "especially for something you have no control over. Get some rest while you can, I have a feeling it's likely to be a rough day."

~~~~SS~~~~

It didn't surprise Severus in the slightest when Harry had the vision about Privet Drive that morning. Had yesterday's boggart dilemma not thrown the night off balance, the professor had wanted to tell Harry all about their suspicions of the Dark Lord using the visions as a way of psychological warfare, in order to prepare the Gryffindor for something like this happening. Adding to his list of things to remember - once this round of chemotherapy was completed - they would need to go back to serious Occlumency training so the Gryffindor could at least attempt to block these visions before they started.

When he'd finally woken Harry up from the vision, the teen was completely distraught which was heartbreaking for the professor to watch. It had to be a terrifying feeling to live through something like that and not have any control over it. Severus had done awful things in his life that he still had occasional nightmares over, however for the most part, he was fully aware of what he had been doing at the time and he deserved to be plagued by the screams of those he had killed; intentionally and unintentionally.

What did take him by surprise that morning was when Albus came through with no news on any Death Eater activity in Little Whinging. He would have fully expected to hear that Privet Drive was in shambles based on Harry's, albeit limited, description. In hindsight, the lack of burning from his own Dark Mark should have been a clue all along that this raid had not actually occurred; at least not yet.

Once the young wizard was settled on the sofa and trying to get a couple more hours of sleep before Alton arrived for his chemotherapy, Albus and Severus went into the kitchen for tea. The defense professor pulled his wand to start preparing it as the headmaster took a seat in the chair Harry always chose at the small table. Severus used the time he was distracted to tell the headmaster everything Harry had recalled from the vision.

"What do you make of this Albus?" He asked nervously as he waited for his mentor's response to what he had just explained.

"It's more than possible young Harry picked up on Voldemort's intent for action through the vision," was the first thing the headmaster suggested.

"Anything is possible," the former spy replied. It sounded too much like Albus was using Harry as bait and he didn't like that one bit.

"If this is going to happen and there will be that many Death Eaters away from the manor, I believe we should be ready to move forward with the rescue tonight," Albus's bright blue eyes pierced into the back of Severus's head. When he turned to face the elderly wizard, his hands were held so tightly onto the countertop behind him that his knuckles turned pure white, and he had a dead serious expression across his face. "I know it's sooner than we expected my boy and we already deduced why a raid is an inappropriate time to do this, however if this vision is somehow related to an upcoming event of this size, we cannot let the opportunity be wasted."

"It doesn't change my suggestion that it is highly inadvisable," Severus replied, turning back to finish their tea. "We would still be at a disadvantage by splitting the teams between wherever it is the Dark Lord might go - most likely Privet Drive - and the team to rescue the Smithe's."

"We could have a full-scale reconnaissance planning today until we are sure we can penetrate the manor with as few casualties as possible given the disadvantage of the size of our team," the headmaster continued to lecture once Severus sat down with their tea. "Think about it, Severus, if we plan accordingly, we could get them out as early as tonight, with significantly less interference."

Severus knew strategically speaking this was a bad idea, yet he could not deny how much he wanted to go for it. Since the moment he found out Alton was working against them, he wanted to save Sarah and Mary. Maybe it was because he wanted so desperately to save Lily and Harry, to which he'd failed at both of those in his other reality, or perhaps because deep down he thought that the only way Alton would bring harm to his patient - any patient, not only Harry - was if his family were in danger. By releasing them from the Dark Lord's clutches, he would know, without a doubt, if Alton was voluntarily working with the Death Eaters. What Albus was suggesting would give him exactly what he wanted.

"If - and that's a big assumption to begin with - the Dark Lord is planning to attack a muggle street tonight with that headcount, I would suspect we wouldn't need more than a handful of wands at Malfoy Manor. Therefore, it doesn't hurt to be prepared just in case the opportunity does happen to present itself," the former spy conceded with a high level of skepticism. "To pull this off, Draco would absolutely need to spend the day at Headquarters with Moody going over the map in excruciatingly fine detail."

"That can be arranged," Albus gave a smile at his victory, "And what of you, my boy? Can we count on you to be in the field as we had originally planned?"

"Absolutely not," the former spy said regretfully, eyes lingering at the door towards Harry's direction. He wanted to be there, nevertheless Harry was his first priority, "You know I cannot leave him today. I have to sit this one out."

"We really need you Severus," the headmaster responded, "you were an integral part of the original plan."

"Plans change Albus," the dark haired wizard replied sternly. "You do it without me, or not at all."

Already knowing it was a lost cause to try to convince his defense professor to change his mind, Albus simply nodded and replied, "I will collect Mr. Malfoy this morning and let you know should he have any issue assisting us."

The younger wizard gave a small chuckle. Draco never had issues with people needing him. It would make the blonde feel important, and the fact that Severus would not be there as a liaison between the Slytherin and former Auror would make him feel all the more powerful too. As long as this did not go to the teen's head, they would be fine without him. Instead, today could continue trying to find a connection between the Greengrass family and the Dark Lord.

As if reading his defense professor's mind - which was practically impossible - Albus asked, "Have you uncovered anything about Miss. Greengrass?"

"Nothing of importance yet," Severus replied furrowing his brows, "their family had early connections to the dark arts, however somewhere in the late 1800's their history tapers off before picking back up in the 1920's. From that point forward, there is no mention of their involvement in any of the wars; for either side."

"As one of the last true pureblood families, I have a hard time believing they hold no value on blood status," Albus said unconvinced. "The Weasley's even made a declaration on blood status; that they place no value on it."

"It's possible the Greengrass's view this as a way to realign themselves with their previous dark arts culture," Severus explained with scowl, the feelings of injustice rising within him "If not, and they are in fact 'Blood Traitors', after the attack on the Burrow, I imagine they would be hesitant to speak up against the Dark Lord and in that case they may go as far as to join him simply to maintain their elite status while simultaneously drawing attention away from them."

"I suspect they would fall into the former category," Albus replied sipping his tea like they were simply two old friends catching up on their summer holiday and not discussing the future of at least one of his students.

"If the Greengrass's are so eager to realign themselves with the Dark Lord, I'm sure Mr. or Mrs. Greengrass will be more than welcomed to take the mark themselves," Severus said slamming his hand down on the table. He quickly closed his eyes fully expecting Harry to have heard it and wake up. When the Gryffindor didn't enter the kitchen, he continued with a low growl, "They need not sacrifice their eldest daughter, against her wishes, for their own cause."

Did they know they were practically sentencing her - at best - to a life sentence in Azkaban and, at worst, to her own death? What kind of parents would hand over their child to that kind of life; especially when they were unmarked themselves?

Cowardly parents, that's whom.

"We can both agree to that Severus," said the headmaster gravely, "I believe the best we can do would be to put her and her sister into hiding. We can use Shell Cottage after the Christmas holidays. Although it would make this infinitely easier if one of her parents would agree to accompany them. Does Draco know if both of her parents are lobbying for her mark?"

"I have no idea," the former spy pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I'll inquire about it to him and direct his focus to Daphne's mother. I'm willing to bet if one of them wouldn't want their daughter marked, it would likely be her mother."

The two wizards sat in a companionable silence between them until it became obvious that Severus would have to be the one to broach the last remaining topic they needed to cover.

"What did you make of Harry's magical tests yesterday?"

Albus smiled with that spark in his blue eyes that meant he was feeling overly sentimental, "Do you mean besides his change of boggart?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Severus simply replied, "I have already discussed that with Minerva. If you wish to gossip, I suggest you find her. I'm sure she can fill your head with all sorts of fairy tale endings."

Settling back into his chair, Albus smirked, "I'll keep that in mind Severus.

"As for Harry's overall aptitude, I'm sure you'd agree that it does not seem as if he has lost any magic thus far. I'd be interested to see how it changes over time and how he manages with the new schoolwork compared to his classmates. I imagine he would hold his own at the moment."

"I did take notice of that as well. Even his less than spectacular transfiguration attempts were a small improvement compared to last year," the professor commented, tabling the thoughts of Harry's new schoolwork. If he did unintentional magic in class, it would be impossible to keep from the Dark Lord and it would potentially harm their ruse. "Minerva asked if there could be something that was blocking his magic, which would now be getting demolished by the chemotherapy. It is her opinion that there could be something like that in place; similar to at least one theory about squibs simply having a block on their magical core that cannot be removed."

Albus's eyes widened as he thought this through, "Voldemort's soul fragment? Could the muggle medications be killing it?"

Obviously that was the first place Severus's mind had taken him when Minerva brought it up the previous night. There was nothing he wanted more than to say the chemotherapy would kill the blasted piece of soul, however there was also nothing in his research to support such a claim. Turning his eyes downward, he gravely shook his head.

"I don't believe so," he answered despondently. "All of the texts I've examined come to the same conclusion - the container must be damaged beyond magical repair to release the soul fragment - and Harry would be considered the container. I'm yet to find an alternative theory to save him from that fate."

Albus stood and levitated his tea cup to the sink.

"We are in uncharted territory, my boy. We'll find something. I'll take it from here," the headmaster explained. He placed his hand on the professor's shoulder giving it a small squeeze, "You focus on Harry and Miss. Greengrass."

Without another word, the headmaster left the kitchen with Severus following in his wake. He heard the floo roar before he made it to the sitting room; Albus was gone.

Harry was still sleeping soundly on the sofa and there was less than an hour before Alton would arrive to start his chemotherapy. Usually the professor would have woken up Harry by now, so he could shower and eat his breakfast, however when he knelt down in front of the sofa, Severus couldn't do it. Harry had looked so exhausted after his vision, even though he'd slept well most of the week. The professor placed his hand upon Harry's head as if he were going to push back the fringe of the messy black hair that was missing and held in the tears that threatened to escape. This whole battle was wearing them both down and Severus hoped the next three weeks would go by quickly.

~~~~HP~~~~

Healer Smithe showed up right on time at eight in the morning to collect his blood sample - which seemed pointless as Harry hadn't had chemotherapy in a couple of weeks, so his blood counts should not be too low - and set him up with the antiemetic first. After being up so early that morning from his vision, Harry had overslept and he ended up attempting to eat his breakfast in the sitting room during the antiemetic drip, except he had no appetite and mostly pushed the porridge and fruit around in his bowl.

"You need to eat," Snape reminded Harry as he sat down in the armchair besides the Gryffindor. "You've managed to gain back a little weight and it would be nice if you could keep at least half of it."

"Yeah," Harry sarcastically replied, "I know that, but it doesn't mean I can and I get really tired of hearing people saying that over and over again. It's not like I'm choosing not to eat."

"I am simply trying to make sure you can keep your strength," Snape said, picking up the book on genealogy Harry had seen him now reading more often.

"Who are you looking for in there? And before you say it's none of my concern, I know that already," the young wizard quickly added with a bit more attitude than he intended. "This is called having a conversation and taking an interest in the other person I happen to be living with."

"Don't think you can out Slytherin their Head of House," Snape said peering over the top of the book, "I know exactly what you're doing and it's not going to work."

That should not have surprised me.

"Did you find anything out about my magic from the tests yesterday?" He gave in and changed the subject.

"Quite a lot actually," Snape started before he was interrupted by Healer Smithe coming through the floo. "Perfect timing Alton, Harry was asking about the results from his magical tests yesterday."

That sounded more condescending then it should have.

"Wonderful," the healer said, placing his black bag on the table and pulling the day's chemotherapy medications from it. "Why don't we get the Intrathecal done and we'll discuss the results during the one hour medication."

For reasons unknown to him, Harry was more nervous than usual. It was almost like starting chemotherapy all over again, but this time he knew that the triple medication days - IT followed by the one hour IV, then the four hour IV - were the hardest on his body. With his nerves flaring at high speed, he had a difficult time sitting still for the IT and Snape ended up having to physically hold him in place; something he hadn't needed to do in a while. After what felt like hours, but was probably only one, the first medication was started along with the IV of morphine to help prevent the burning pain from his depleting magical core.

Healer Smithe made some notes in what Harry assumed was his ever-growing medical file, then sat down in the armchair across from Snape. Pulling out two pieces of paper, he handed one each to Harry and Snape then started in on the results from his magical testing yesterday, "Based on your previous records, which you can see in green on this report, you have seen a decrease in magical ability across the board. This should not come as a shock to either of you since we've seen the physical symptoms of this occurring with increasing severity during each round.

"Going forward, you'll do the same set of tests on the day prior to each chemotherapy round and after three or four weeks, we should have a better idea of how long it will take for your magic to be completely depleted. Depending on the results, we may start to add a mid-round test to see if there's any loss during the round and replenishment during your break periods. That would mostly be for academic purposes, since the wizarding community has never seen a case of a strong wizard going through chemotherapy."

That's fantastic, another reason to be different, Harry thought sharply.

Having this conversation literally during his treatment soured his mood significantly. Harry could literally watch the medication going into his port on its way to killing off his magic. Meeting Snape's eyes, he could tell the professor was thinking the same thing he was; that regardless of how little magic he ended up with at the end of all of this, they both knew that was better then how the other Harry ended up using only the potions. Magical levels wouldn't matter if he was dead.

Picking up on his patient's change of attitude, Healer Smithe quickly added, "Remember Harry, nothing is set in stone. This is new territory for all of us. As the chemotherapy decreases over time and your body adjusts to the medications, there is still a good chance the depletion rate can slow down and you'll be left with some kind of magic. Only, it might not be as strong as it used to be."

None of that sounded good to Harry either. In fact, since Snape had told him that he'd been doing magic randomly, he had really hoped for better news than this. Obviously, he couldn't tell either man about how he had gotten his hopes up because he'd feel like a failure for not staying strong through this. All of it brought to the forefront of his mind another question that had been plaguing him. How was it possible that his magic could be potentially strong enough to withstand chemotherapy, yet not strong enough to prevent the cancer in the first place? He hated dwelling in self-pity nonetheless, that was how he felt today.

"A piece of good news," Healer Smithe said joyfully as he tried, unsuccessfully, to raise Harry's spirits, "is that your blood counts looked amazing today. If you keep up with the sanitizing after each guest arrives and continue constant hand washing, you should hopefully get through this phase of consolidation without any further issues, like the pneumonia."

Three weeks. He needed to make it three weeks before they'd do another biopsy and start his next phase. Three weeks and he would be going back to classes because the healer had previously said the next phase should be easier on his body and his immune system. In order to maintain some semblance of sanity, he had been taking this one stage at a time and the next one was coming up, he could almost see the light at the end of this awful tunnel.

"Ok," Healer Smithe called both residents' attention back to him. "It's time to get you started on the four hour and then I'm needed back at the hospital most of today, so Madam Pomfrey will be back for the removal."

It didn't matter to the Gryffindor which person came to remove the chemo line; after all this time, Madam Pomfrey was just as capable as Healer Smithe. Snape, on the other hand, seemed to care more than he did because the look in his professor's eyes showed a skepticism Harry couldn't place. He was sure he'd seen a look like that from the man before and it caused him to panic for a second inside of himself.

Unfortunately, Snape had been right when he said it would be a rough day. By lunchtime, Harry was too nauseated to even consider eating, which did not go unnoticed by Snape. During the first two hours of the chemotherapy, they tried to play wizard's chess and card games, then Harry tried to get some school work done and sketch; all to no avail. Nothing could distract him from the vomiting and the pain that had started deep within his stomach. Snape fussed about their quarters trying to find any which way to help ease the Gryffindor's pain. In the end, Harry was laying on his side facing away from the professor, with one pillow against his lower back and another between his knees, trying to think of any way to distract himself from how he was feeling.

"Severus," Harry called out a little louder than he'd expected for the professor was back to sitting in the armchair next to him. "Do you think he plans when he's going to torture me with a vision?"

"I had hoped you'd fallen asleep," Snape responded, placing the genealogy book and his notebook onto his lap.

"No such luck yet," Harry said, rotating just enough to see Snape.

"Why do you think he's planning it?" The professor asked clearly fishing to see what Harry suspected before giving up any information. Harry had lived with the man long enough to know some of his stalling tactics.

"Well," The young wizard continued breathing heavily through the pain, "I've had a vision during each round of the hell week of my consolidation so far."

"Please elaborate," Snape replied formally; more formal than Harry wanted to hear, leading him to believe the man knew something, otherwise he'd already told Harry he was wrong.

"Well, the first one was the Burrow," Harry was now laying flat on his back and started counting on his fingers to make a point, "then the one of finding Charlie's body at the ministry... Draco's initiation and now Privet Drive. I think those line up correctly."

"Technically, the Burrow vision wasn't before any chemotherapy," the professor corrected; rather quickly Harry thought, "however I also do not believe that vision was intentionally sent. It followed a little more closely to your visions of last year where the Dark Lord was not aware you could see them, correct?"

Harry nervously played with the hem on his shirt, "Yeah... Except for the last one of course."

"Obviously," Snape replied in a voice that sounded just as painful as Harry felt inside.

"But the other three line up right?" Harry was focusing all his might on the ceiling afraid that if he turned his head he'd start vomiting again as a wave of dizziness came over him.

"Are you alright?" Snape asked, ignoring the question that was asked to him. Harry had no idea the professor had gotten up from the armchair until he was kneeling besides the sofa. Harry closed his eyes when Snape's hand brushed lightly against his forehead, "You don't have a fever."

"I'm..." Harry was attempting to respond until he found himself reaching over for the pail which Snape quickly held out for him and he started vomiting into it. When the heaving stopped, Harry stayed leaning over the pail and with a trembling breath said, "I'm fine... Now answer... my question..."

"Unless one of us would like to visit the Dark Lord and demand he tell us his master plan, there is no definitive proof," Snape said helping Harry take a sip of the ginger ale that has been sitting beside his uneaten lunch on the table, and then assisted him in laying back onto his side on the sofa, "However, the headmaster and I agree with your assessment. There is likely a correlation between your chemotherapy schedule and these other visions."

"How does he know?" The Gryffindor asked confused. He didn't want to sound whiny nevertheless he knew he did, "I mean, could it be because we haven't really done more Occlumency? Like, he's getting it from my own mind?"

"It could be something like that," Snape said noncommittally and the young wizard hardly noticed. "There are many options on the table right now regarding this subject. Whatever the reason may be, we will be working on Occlumency some more once you're feeling stronger. That should stop the visions regardless of the reasoning."

Feeling the injustice against him for once again having Voldemort attacking him on top of all the other battles he was fighting, Harry swiped at his eyes to hide his tears. He didn't want to appear weak in front of Snape; not necessarily because he would belittle the Gryffindor anymore, instead it was because he wanted to earn the man's respect.

Poppy came by around four o'clock that evening to unhook his chemo line from his port as expected and change out his morphine to a new bag. With the fresh pain medication, the young wizard didn't try to fight it when his eyes became heavy and he fell into a restless sleep. This was the best part of chemo days, when he could succumb to the darkness - now if only Voldemort would leave him alone during those few restful moments.

The next time Harry awoke it was mostly dark in the room. The lanterns in the corners illuminated the walls in a soft yellow glow and through the enchanted window, he could see rain was falling sideways in sheets out by the black lake with flashes of lightning streaking across the already black sky. He was happy to be living in the dungeons at that moment because even though he normally wasn't afraid of storms, a rain like this in the tower was loud enough to frighten him just a little bit.

Immediately upon sitting up, Harry grabbed for the pail and started to forcefully vomit into it. Having skipped lunch completely and his breakfast being long gone, only the acid bile with speckles of black came out. This time, the young wizard took note of the black speckles throughout the vomit and thought to question Snape about it the next time he saw the man.

I should get a notebook to start keeping track of all this... Like Severus is doing.

The last thought hit him hard inside. That was what a father would do for his son and it was a small detail that had been missing his whole life with his aunt and uncle; someone to pay attention to what he was going through, to think about these things before he did, and someone to go to when you had a question knowing the man would find the answer if he didn't already know it. Being honest with himself, Harry was terrified about it no matter how good it made him feel inside. After Sirius's death, he had more or less forced himself to start accepting the fact that he was destined to be parent-less and alone. Yet here he was living with the most unlikely of a father figure and it made him happy inside; he was content, like this is where he belonged. It made him want to know more about the life he never got to live with the man and at the same time start envisioning where they could end up. What would happen when Harry graduated from Hogwarts? He couldn't imagine never seeing Snape again.

"Severus?" Harry heard from the floo. It was so unexpected, the teen literally jumped and almost fell from the sofa, giving him a flashback to the first day he'd seen Malfoy over the summer. Placing his glasses back on - Snape must have removed them after he'd fallen asleep - he saw the floating face of Dumbledore in the floo. After quick search of the room, Harry saw the light shining underneath the door to Snape's office.

"He's in his office professor," Harry said contemplating if he could make it to the office to tell Snape. "Do you need me to get him?"

"No, that's quite alright Harry," the headmaster said in a calm voice, "would it be ok if I came through?"

"Sure," Harry replied knowing that the professor wouldn't mind his employer coming into the quarters that technically belonged to Hogwarts.

Less than a half minute later, the headmaster was standing in the sitting room and Harry attempted to sit up, but was still too exhausted. At this point, the day had completely worn down his already weak body.

"Is everything ok sir?" The young Gryffindor asked warily. "It's not Privet Drive is it?"

"Everything is under control Harry," the elderly wizard replied.

Harry recognized the deflection from his question and it didn't really make him feel much better about the whole thing. Not wanting to sound ungrateful to the headmaster, Harry chose to not to say another thing about it. Dumbledore bid Harry goodbye before he made his way over to Snape's office and bravely walked in without knocking first.

Finally able to sit up, Harry leaned against the back of the sofa with his eyes closed waiting to see if the recent wave of nausea would pass. When it didn't, he ended up back over the pail - taking note, yet again, at the black speckles littering the bottom of the pail - before both Dumbledore and Snape came bustling out of the office.

"Hi sir," Harry said sheepishly knowing both wizards likely at least heard - if not saw - his latest sick up. "Are you ok?"

"I shall be fine," Snape said very precisely, taking a seat on the sofa next to Harry. "Can you eat? Maybe some broth for dinner or a smoothie?"

"It's worth a try," The Gryffindor said rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't think much else though."

"That will do," the professor said, turning back to the headmaster, who had a far away look in his eyes, and cryptically said, "I'll make the necessary arrangements Albus."

Harry watched as the headmaster nodded then floo'ed somewhere Harry could not hear.

What arrangements does Snape need to make?

Harry never got to ask because as Snape was coming back out from the kitchen, with a tray filled with a bowl of chicken broth with vegetables for Harry to eat alongside a smoothie, floating in front of him, several things happened seemingly all at once. The professor hissed in pain and dropped to the floor holding his left forearm, causing him to lose his concentration and then subsequently the tray to crash to the floor; the loud echos vibrated across the stone dungeon walls and the steaming soup pooled onto the floor. No sooner had Harry gotten up from the sofa and down to his mentor's side that a piece of parchment appeared directly in front of Harry's face that had Draco Malfoy written on it.

"Get the door," the former Death Eater hissed to Harry grimly.

"But sir," Harry tried to explain that surely Snape's pain was more important than whatever the blonde needed at that moment.

"Go let Draco in," Snape insisted through his clenched teeth, "Now!"

The urgency in his voice got Harry moving faster than he had after any of his treatments. Somehow he couldn't put two and two together that Malfoy was being summoned by the same burning that Snape was now feeling.

The Gryffindor pulled the door open and almost jumped at the sight of Malfoy dressed in plain black robes holding what Harry knew was his Death Eater mask peeking out beneath them.

"It's about time Potter," Malfoy said pushing passed Harry. "Is Severus here?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, still in a daze from seeing the Death Eater attire. "He's near the sitting room."

Except Snape was no longer kneeling on the floor by the fallen tray of soup. When the two teens entered the sitting room, the professor was briskly walking out from his office dressed in his travelling cloak.

"Harry," Snape said, urgently drawing Harry's undivided attention to him, "I need to get Draco out beyond the anti-apparation wards so he can answer his summons. Then I'm needed at headquarters for the Order. I don't care what happens while I'm gone, you are not to leave our quarters for any reason. I will send for someone to stay with you if I find I'll be there long."

The Gryffindor's breathing started to increase as he understood what was going on. Dumbledore must have expected something like this to happen; that was why Snape said he needed to make arrangements. His vision was going to happen if the Order didn't get there to stop Voldemort first.

"Go sir!" the Gryffindor said suddenly finding his voice, "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Just... Be careful alright."

"Of course I will," Snape said, giving Harry a sad glance before he turned around -grabbing Draco by the arm in the process - and not so gently escorted him out of their home.

Harry was scared. Would Snape be going into the potential battle to fight against the Death Eaters? What would happen if Snape got hurt? What if he died? Harry could feel the grief swelling up inside of him at the thought of Snape dead; bringing him back to his boggart from yesterday.

Between the chemotherapy and the anxiety of whatever was happening almost 500 miles away, Harry wasn't surprised when he ended up in the lavatory sitting against the wall opposite of the loo. His knees were drawn and he had his arms resting upon them cradling his head. Each time he vomited there was more of the black speckled bile he never got a chance to ask Snape about. The burning pain in his stomach was at its worst and he silently questioned when Madam Pomfrey would be back with more morphine.

Deciding he needed a change of scenery - and perhaps something to eat, if for no other reason then to give his stomach something to actually sick up - he pulled himself from the cold stone floor. He had no idea what time it was, how long Snape and Malfoy had been gone, or what time they would be back. That last one weighed heaviest on his mind. It very well could be the middle of the night or early hours of the morning before either of them returned.

Heading back into the sitting room, he smiled at the bowl of soup sitting upright on the table. A quick check of the clock on the mantle and Harry sighed; Snape and Malfoy had only been gone for an hour. Likely nothing really had even happened yet. Lifting his hand to press on his tingling scar, the Boy-Who-Lived almost wished it would start to hurt so he could know what was going on.

He was approaching the sofa when a wave of burning pain started radiating throughout his insides causing him to drop to his knees doubling over onto the floor. Sweat instantly started to bead up on his forehead and he couldn't hold back the vomit until he could get to the pail just out of his reach. Frustrated that now he'd have to clean the floor before Snape came home, the vomit suddenly disappeared leaving behind a sparkling clean floor and a confused wizard.

The floo sprung to life with bright green flames and Healer Smithe stepped out. While the Gryffindor had always been used to being alone and taking care of himself, he'd gotten used to someone being here for him during the worst parts of chemotherapy; like how he felt at that moment. So when his healer - with his friendly, kind face and voice - stepped into the sitting room Harry silently thanked Snape for sending the man to stay with him even after the young wizard said he would be fine alone.

"Harry!" the healer called, rushing over to help the sick teenager up from the floor and onto the sofa. "Where is Severus?"

"He got called out with the headmaster. I take it he sent you to stay with me?" The Gryffindor asked too distracted to notice the confusion cross his healer's face.

"Yes... Something like that," the man sitting next to him said, confidently rubbing small circles around Harry's back.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus absolutely hated that he had been correct about this round of chemotherapy being particularly difficult on Harry. It seemed outside of the magical core depletion - from either Harry's magic or the soul fragment's - the Gryffindor's body had gotten at least a little used to the medications previously, and now that he had been free from the chemotherapy for so long it was like he was starting over. In addition to the burning, Harry was plagued with some of the worst nausea and vomiting since Privet Drive. Of course, the teen had only eaten about half of his breakfast during the pre-chemo medications and didn't even touch his lunch - an occurrence that was pretty typical during these longer chemotherapy days - so his stomach didn't have much to sick up in the first place, making the situation much harder on him.

It was difficult for the professor to watch the boy he cared about more than anything else, not have enough energy to even make it to the loo; which was abnormal for Harry. If Severus would let him, the Gryffindor would camp out in the lavatory just so he could avoid using the dreaded pail. Yet this afternoon, Harry hadn't even attempted to leave the sitting room for either the lavatory or his bedroom. In the last couple of hours, Severus had tried everything he could think of to ease Harry's pain and nausea - everything except ripping the IV out and that was only because he had used all of his Occlumency skills not to do it knowing the chemotherapy was actually what was best for him.

Right before Poppy arrived, to finally end the chemo, Harry had asked him about the Dark Lord's timing on the visions. As promised, Severus was honest with Harry in telling him that they had thought the visions were not random, however when the Gryffindor didn't make the connection to how Voldemort somehow knew his chemotherapy schedule, Severus did not offer any further explanations. Yes it was a lie of omission, nevertheless, the last thing any of them needed was Harry being paranoid on top of his current condition. Once things calmed down - maybe as they got closer to the next phase of consolidation - Severus planned to sit Harry down and explain what was happening with the visions and Healer Smithe's involvement in them. In his mind, he managed to justify this by the simple fact that there would not be a reason for Harry to be left alone with Alton.

The defense professor was now in his study - trying unsuccessfully to catch up on his marking - relieved that the new morphine Poppy brought had allowed Harry the ability to finally fall asleep. In his mind, he naturally wondered how the rescue mission planning with Draco had gone throughout the day. Without knowing for certain if the Dark Lord would be summoning his followers for a raid tonight, the best they could do was be ready to go should information come in - most likely via Severus's dark mark burning - of the Death Eaters on the move. If, or when, that signal came, they would need to quickly assemble at headquarters and then head out to utilize the little time they would be given to accomplish both tasks. The former spy did not envy any of the witches or wizards that would be on call tonight.

Deciding that his brain could not currently focus on his marking, Severus pulled out his notebook and added what he had discussed with Albus today about the Horcrux, the side effects Harry was experiencing, and his use of his unintentional magic. There was now enough data to see a pattern emerging as his unintentional magic had decreased in frequency when the chemotherapy stopped; showing a direct correlation between the medications and the unintentional magic. While the frequency decreased without the chemotherapy, the strength and complexity stayed the same, leading the professor to believe that whatever the chemotherapy was doing, it was either making Harry's inherent magic stronger in spurts or breaking down some potential block as Minerva suggested.

Placing his quill down, Severus rubbed his eyes. There was no denying that he was exhausted. The early morning wake up call along with the emotional drain of the chemotherapy day had completely worn him down and now after he'd finished a quick dinner at his office desk, he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep knowing with Harry asleep now, he was not likely to get much tonight. Naturally, that was when Albus entered his office without even the slightest attempt at knocking.

"Severus," the professor lifted his head from his notes and met Albus's blue eyes. The headmaster sat in the chair before his desk causing Severus to become uncomfortable with the change of position from their normal meetings in the headmaster's office. "We have confirmation of activity at Malfoy Manor. It is time."

"From whom did you hear this?" The former Death Eater asked skeptically; vanishing the notebook back to its original location on the bookshelf.

"I had Remus and Kingsley watching over the area all day," the Headmaster explained seriously, "they've just returned to headquarters giving word that his followers - presumably lower level ones - are arriving. We need to go."

"I am not going anywhere," Severus reminded the man in front of him, "Harry has had an extremely difficult day and I cannot leave him to go fight Death Eaters."

"We need you Severus," Albus looked upon him with eyes that clearly showed the confliction within them. "If we are going to attempt a rescue as well as try to prevent whatever raid they're planning, we need everyone's help. I'm calling a mandatory Order meeting tonight and you're needed to at least to make sure everyone is prepared. I will not ask you to go to the Manor."

Severus scowled. It wasn't ideal, but it wouldn't be the first time he had to leave Harry for an order meeting. The former spy would feel the summons regardless of if Draco was called or not - there was no way the Dark Lord would go on a muggle raid as large as Harry saw and not call his inner circle - and once he got the summons, they would be on limited time to get in place. Somehow he managed to convince himself he wouldn't be gone for too long anyways.

"Fine," the younger professor conceded, "Though if we're anticipating a summons tonight, I must stay to help Draco to the anti-apparation point should he be called."

"Then we shall get started without you and see you afterwards," said the headmaster calmly, standing to signal his leave and Severus mirrored his actions.

Feeling resentment fill him inside at essentially being forced into the decision, he walked out of the office hoping he could get Harry to eat something before he was called. The irony was not lost on the professor that tonight he would technically be answering a summons request for the first time since the morning of the Privet Drive attack, on a night where that same street was being targeted yet again; this time he would simply be standing beside a different master.

"Go sir!" the Gryffindor said suddenly finding his voice, "Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Just... Be careful alright."

Harry's last request to be careful rang through his ears as he apparated to Headquarters. When was the last time someone had told him to be careful? Why would Harry think he needed to be careful anyway? He would not be going into the field tonight; he was simply going to make sure everyone was set for the mission, and then he would be returning to Hogwarts. It would be quick, easy, and painless.

Grimmauld Place was bustling to the brim with activity when Severus walked through the door; witches and wizards were scattered around the room in groups going through the last minute preparations for the night's plans. Walking further into the room, his presence alone confirmed to the Order that Voldemort summoned at least his inner circle of followers and caused a moment of pure silence.

"You will have a maximum of thirty minutes before the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters vacate their headquarters," he commanded standing before the intricately drawn out map on the board at the front of the table. "If you are not in place by then, you might as well scrap the whole mission."

"If Draco Malfoy can be trusted-" Moody started, meeting Severus at the head of the table, but Severus immediately cut him off. Clearly something had not gone well in the planning earlier today.

"If you already do not trust Mr. Malfoy, this will be a suicide mission for your whole team," the former Death Eater lectured sternly. "We have no reason to believe our informant would be working against us. You will do well to remember that his intel comes at a high price to his personal safety. Should the Dark Lord suspect he was the one to provide us this information, I guarantee you he will not be returning from tonight's raid. I expect you all to keep that in the forefront of your minds tonight."

Not a single other person in the room said a word as they laid out their plans for the two teams - one heading to Privet Drive, lead by Shacklebolt to meet the team of Aurors that had been sent when reports of strange activity came through the muggle authorities, and the other, lead by Moody, would be deployed to Malfoy Manor in hopes of rescuing Sarah and Mary Smithe. It took fifteen of their thirty minutes to determine that by splitting the teams, they not only lost all of the reconnaissance at Malfoy Manor, but they also didn't have nearly the coverage to successfully pull off the operation in the first place.

"Remember, there will be significantly less guards to deal with," Lupin suggested. "So theoretically we won't have the need for such a large coverage as originally planned."

"While that may be true Remus," Moody gruffly argued and Severus got the impression that Albus did not share their earlier discussion with the rest of the team, "it's still too much of a risk. I would feel more comfortable if we could get a few more names on our end."

Severus studied the list of witches and wizards that would be going to Privet Drive versus Malfoy Manor. In addition to Shacklebolt; Tonks, Diggle, Doge, and Fletcher would be going to Privet Drive and Severus didn't really feel comfortable moving any of them to the Malfoy Manor team. The Manor list, in addition to Moody consisted of Lupin, Arthur Weasley, Bill Weasley, Fleur Delacour, and Hestia Jones. Severus obviously knew even with the lighter guard duty, it was far less people than they should attempt with. He was just about to argue that unless they had at least four more names - bringing the total to ten - they should cancel, when three more names appeared below Hestia Jones', from three wands pointing towards the board -

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Minerva McGonagall

In the back of the room, Molly stood - likely to argue about the Weasley twins joining - when the final name was added right underneath Minerva's.

Severus Snape

"We leave in five," Severus said, placing his wand back into his robe and ignoring Albus's elated glare. Harry would understand why he had to add his name to the list; why he had to be there. The professor ignored the talking around him as he passed by everyone on his way to Molly Weasley.

"Molly," he gestured her to a quieter corner of the room, "I know you'll be staying here with Poppy to handle any injuries, but could you please send a message to Ron asking him and Hermione to go stay with Harry? He's had a bad reaction to the treatments today and I don't know when I'll make it back there."

"Of course Severus," she reassured him, watching the man carefully as his hand trembled slightly when he rubbed his forehead. "I'll take care of it, don't you worry one more second about it."

"Thank you," he said; his voice trying to convey his gratitude as much as he could while at the same time, he was thinking about infiltrating the darkest wizard's headquarters.

"Let's move!" Moody called loudly over the conversations throughout the room. They had no way of knowing if the Death Eaters would have left until they apparated to their meeting point and immediately cast disillusionment charms on themselves.

"He'll be proud of you, Severus," Albus whispered into the professor's ear as they headed to the door ready to disapparate. "I'll be here when you return."

Hopefully we all return unscathed.

~~~~HP~~~~

To say that Harry was happy to see his healer walk out of the floo to stay with him, would be an understatement. Even though he'd told Snape he would be fine alone, the pain was getting unmanageable and having someone physically next to him somehow made it easier.

"I've brought you another set of morphine," Healer Smithe said handing Harry a glass of water that was sitting on the table in front of him, "seems to be right on time."

"I'd say it's a little late sir; no offense," Harry gave a weak chuckle; his body was shivered in pain.

"Not to worry. Madam Pomfrey mentioned today has been a bad one, so I've brought a higher dose. I was really hoping the pain would have backed down a bit after the break," Healer Smithe checked the bag that was currently attached and started to remove it.

"If anything..." Harry managed to get out between labored breaths, "it made it... Worse."

"This should definitely help," the healer explained. "If it's no difference to you, I'm going to take out the IV in your hand and move this one to the port. I think you'll be more comfortable."

"That's fine," Harry answered, hardly aware of anything going on around him. "Can I ask you a question though?"

"Of course you can Harry; I'm your healer, you can ask me anything," the kind voice trailed into the young wizard's ears calming his nerves just a little.

"I've started to get these black speckly things in my vomit," Harry asked with his eyes still closed; he could feel the healer flushing his port getting it ready to use. "Is that normal?"

Healer Smithe paused what he was doing, "Definitely not. Black vomiting can be blood, so I'll just run some extra tests to be sure everything looks alright in your stomach."

"Nothing else feels any different," Harry explained pressing onto his tender stomach. Now probably was not the best time to claim he was feeling fine.

Once the healer had his port hooked up to the morphine, Harry instantly felt the tickle from a diagnostic charm. Simultaneously, a piece of parchment popped up in front of his face with Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, and Dudley Dursley. His friends should know he wouldn't be up for visitors on his first day back to chemotherapy and the last thing he wanted to do was move at the moment.

"My friends are at the door," Harry groaned, "would you mind letting them know I don't feel up for company tonight?"

The diagnostic charm ended abruptly and Healer Smithe asked, "Are you sure? You didn't call them?"

"No," Harry shook his head making his stomach lurch; he really did feel like death warmed over, "I'm guessing they're just checking in on me. Probably want to know how the magic test-"

Before Harry could finish his sentence, he was leaning over the edge of the sofa vomiting into the pail. As he'd expected, large, black speckles could be seen momentarily before the pail self-cleaned.

"Did you see that?" Harry asked leaning back against the sofa.

"Yes I did," Healer Smithe answered, pulling out a container from his black bag and handing it to the Gryffindor, "as odd as it sounds, next time I need you to vomit in here and I'll take it to hospital to test. This one will not self-clean it away."

No part of that sounded enjoyable to Harry and he grimaced at merely the thought of saving his vomit. Breathing slowly, another piece of parchment popped up in front of his face with the same three names written on it.

"I'll go let them know to come back tomorrow," the healer said with a small smile on his face. "Perhaps you'll be feeling a little better then."

"Don't I have a four hour treatment tomorrow?" Harry asked both hopeful and confused. How could his healer forget his chemo schedule? In his current negative thoughts he added, "I'm probably not going to feel much better until Wednesday."

"Yes you do have a four hour tomorrow, but Harry remember after this, it's two easier rounds. Hang in there and it will get better," he said heading towards the door.

Easy for him to say, he's not the one sitting here.

Harry closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep, having no idea how he would sleep feeling as sick as he was. With the door so close to the sitting room, the young wizard strained his ears to hear the reaction from his friends, but he couldn't really hear too much of what was being said. He was relieved he would not have to tell them to go away. For the most part, they had been great through all of this, it was just that right now he only wanted Severus.

Great, now I sound like a child, Harry thought with a groan.

The murmuring from the doorway was getting louder and Harry questioned to himself if perhaps there was an emergency that had brought his friends and cousin down to the dungeons. Giving yet another groan, he pushed himself up from the sofa and slowly walked to the door; pulling his IV stand along with him.

Healer Smithe was standing in - or more accurately, blocking - the doorway preventing Harry from seeing through it as he approached.

"Hey guys," he called out getting all of their attention. Healer Smithe moved over to allow Harry access to the doorway. "What's going on? Everything ok?"

"My mum asked for us to come stay with you," Ron offered immediately, "she said Snape might not be back for a while and he wanted to make sure you were alright."

"I'm fine," Harry said ignoring Hermione's overtly questionable glare, "I just don't really feel up for anyone being here right now."

"You shouldn't be alone during this Harry," it was Dudley who had spoken up. "C'mon, I saw you back home and don't mind staying with you again."

"Listen, I appreciate it... I really do," Harry tried again, "I'm not alone; Healer Smithe is here. I'm going to try to eat and go to bed; that's it. Why don't you guys come by tomorrow?"

There was a pregnant pause as the Gryffindors stared between one another.

Hermione finally broke the silence by saying sadly, "Of course Harry."

The young witch pulled Ron's elbow away from the door in an endearing fashion. Harry peered out at the exchange between his two best friends and almost imperceptibly nodded his head before he closed the door. Leaning his back against the door, he closed his eyes trying to push away the thoughts flashing in his mind of his friends continuing their life without him there. It wasn't like he expected them to stop living because he couldn't be with them, but the image of everyone hanging out in the Gryffindor common room or at the library - not as likely on a Saturday night unless Ron was really trying to impress Hermione - before getting told to stop what they were doing to come stay with him, was too much.

"Harry?" Healer Smithe pulled the Gryffindor forward towards the sitting room. "You need to try to eat something. I have a feeling you haven't had anything all day."

Too exhausted to say or do anything, Harry allowed the man to walk him back over to the sofa. His bowl of broth was still warm and he took a tentatively spoonful feeling the warmth soothe the back of his raw throat.

"Do you have any idea of what's going on tonight? Wherever Severus is?" The young wizard asked hoping to get at least some kind of insight into what Snape was doing, and more specifically if he was safe.

"Unfortunately, no I don't," Healer Smithe said picking up a file from his black bag and settling into the armchair on the right. "Now that you've eaten a bit, try to get some rest. Do you want to go to your bedroom?"

For some reason Harry didn't want to sleep in his bedroom when he was feeling this sick. His room had become a place of calm for him and he didn't want to associate it with negative feelings, like his cupboard back at the Dursleys. Not only that, the sofa was comfortable and he'd know the moment Snape came home.

"No it's ok," the Gryffindor yawned, feeling more tired then he would have anticipated, "I think I'll sleep here until Severus gets home."

His mind was getting cloudy and his eyes were heavy with a combination of exhaustion and the higher dose of pain medication. Feeling himself drifting off to sleep, he silently hoped that Snape would stay safe and all was going well wherever he was.

"Stupefy!"

The first thing Harry heard when coming back into consciousness sounded like furniture breaking and then a loud crash to his right. Confused in his still sleepy state, the Gryffindor blinked his eyes slightly open and instinctively reached for his wand, completely forgetting that it was back to being safely stored on his bedside table in his bedroom. Since he had fallen asleep with his glasses on, he could see around the dim room, but didn't get too far before he heard another hex coming from near the fireplace in front of him.

"Incarcerous!"

Harry covered his head expecting the spell to be directed at him. When he found he could still freely move, he lifted his head to see what had happened throughout the room.

Panic filled inside of him when he saw Malfoy standing in front of the fireplace, his black robes tattered and torn with the Death Eater mask laying directly at his feet. His pointed face was littered with cuts and scrapes; most of which were actively bleeding leaving brown-red trails contrasted against his pale skin. The Slytherin's normally pristine white blonde hair was disheveled with bits of sticks and leaves coming out at odd angles and there was something else about the other boy that Harry couldn't place; something was different about him though.

Despite all of that going on with Malfoy, it wasn't any of that which caught Harry's attention; instead it was that the other teen still had his wand raised directly at Healer Smithe. The healer was now face down unconscious on the floor directly in front of the armchair Harry last remembered seeing him in and was tied with thick ropes - three around his arms and two around his legs - with a small trickle of blood coming from somewhere on his head or face onto the floor.

"What the fuck Malfoy?!" Harry swore standing up so quickly he was immediately hit with a wave of dizziness and nausea requiring him to sit back down. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"Protecting your sorry arse," Draco spat. He quickly walked over to the healer, and not-so-gently kicked him with his black boot, then rolled him over until he was flat on his back. Harry could now see that the trickle of blood had been from the healer's nose which had clearly been broken when he fell to the floor.

"Oh really? He's not the one dressed like a Death Eater," Harry replied back, "You have two seconds to tell me what's going on before I..."

He paused. What could he do? His wand was in his bedroom and even if he could summon it wandlessly, Malfoy would take him down before it made it anywhere near his hand. He had no idea how to control what little bit of magic he may have been able to do randomly, so that was not helpful in his current situation. Literally he was stuck defenseless.

"I'm not going to hurt you alright?" Draco said sensing Harry's panic and in return tossed his wand onto the floor in front of Harry on the sofa; the Gryffindor immediately picked it up.

Content that the healer was completely unconscious and wouldn't get out of the ropes, the Slytherin sat down directly next to Harry - a rather bold move in Harry's opinion - and said, "You need to talk to Professor Snape about it for all the details, though if you think back doesn't it seem a little odd that you haven't been alone with your healer since you woke up from the pneumonia? There's always the off chance I'm wrong, but I don't think that's normal for a patient/healer relationship do you?"

Of course he's wrong, Harry instinctively thought...

Except he wasn't. Someone - usually Snape or Madam Pomfrey - had always been with him when Healer Smithe was there. And one of them was always checking over his medications whenever the healer gave them to him; they were doing that even before the pneumonia. Another wave of nausea hit Harry hard as the realization swarmed over him and he was again vomiting into the pail.

"You're wrong," Harry said wishing he could keep the quivering out of his voice. "He's had plenty of time to kill me if he wanted to."

"I'm not getting into that with you," Malfoy replied sharply. "All I know is that Professor Snape wouldn't have left him here with you alone, and that's exactly what it looked like when I floo'ed in."

Harry simply stared at the teen he'd somehow come to an unofficial truce with, at least before he attacked Healer Smithe.

"Why should I trust you?"

"For one, because my wand is in your hand; if I wanted to kill you I won't be able to now" the Slytherin gave a small chuckle watching Harry pass the wand between his hands. "For two, because your instincts are probably screaming at you that I'm right and no matter what stupid things you've gotten yourself into, generally speaking, you have good instincts."

He was right, which infuriated Harry more. Snape's wards wouldn't let just anyone floo into their home, especially if that person were Polyjuiced, and something deep inside Harry told him something was off with Healer Smithe. Looking back at all the little signs, he was surprised he hadn't noticed it sooner; of course he'd been a little distracted trying to stay alive from the Leukemia and all that came with that.

"Is Professor Snape back yet?" Malfoy asked, trying to hide the fear in his eyes. That's what Harry was missing earlier; there was a look of terror deep within Malfoy's grey eyes that had not been there before. Harry felt his stomach drop.

"No," the Gryffindor said concerned, "he's not here. He went to headquarters after taking you through the anti-apparation wards."

It had been several hours since both Slytherins had left Hogwarts and Harry was now nervous that something bad had happened. If Malfoy didn't know where Snape was, then where was the man?

"Was he wherever you were," Harry asked, gesturing with a slight nod of his head to Malfoy's odd appearance. "I'm guessing you were torturing muggles?"

"We were supposed to, except the Aurors showed up and it turned into a battle on some random muggle street," Malfoy said without any malice to his voice.

"And you fought?"

"Of course I did," he answered refusing to look Harry in the eyes. "If I hadn't, I probably would not have made it out alive."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them. Harry remembered all too well his experiences fighting against wizards who surpassed his own level of dueling. It was terrifying. All it took was one missed hex, one stray curse and it could all be over. Of course, he'd been fighting against the Death Eaters, so if he died at least it would have been with honor. If Malfoy died fighting alongside the Death Eaters tonight... Well, that was different.

"Was Professor Snape there too?" Harry asked nervously realizing that Malfoy never actually answered his initial question.

"He wasn't supposed to be," Malfoy explained narrowing his eyes in thought, "If he went anywhere besides the Order's headquarters, he was probably at the Dark Lord's headquarters."

"Why the hell would Snape go there?" It made no sense. He wouldn't really go back to Voldemort knowing he'd be killed on the spot if he were discovered.

If Malfoy was going to offer him an explanation, he never got the chance to because the floo roared to life and Remus stepped out supporting an injured Snape who appeared to be in extreme pain. Both men had blood coming from the plethora of cuts and gashes on their faces and Snape was clutching at his left side, while limping out of the floo. It was clear to the teenagers that something went very wrong that night and Harry's heart practically stopped.

~~~~ AU SS ~~~~

"It's not funny Severus!" Harry yelled from the other side of the dinner table.

The Potions Master should have expected something like this was coming the moment Harry asked to have dinner in their quarters that night. He tried his hardest to keep a straight face, to no avail, and not at all due to the topic of conversation, but due to Harry's horrified face.

"You might disagree if you were sitting on my side of the table," Severus simply replied. "Professor McGonagall literally held you after class just to make sure you knew you needed a date to the Yule Ball?"

"Yes... she did," Harry's cheeks flushed as he admitted that. "Oh wait, she didn't say date... she said dance partner. It was still just as embarrassing. What am I supposed to do?!"

Taking a sip of his wine, Severus couldn't help thinking about how ironic this situation was; never would anyone voluntarily come to Severus Snape for advice on dating. He'd never truly dated and honestly had no intentions on it now. Yet here he was, sitting across from his 14-year old son who had been thrust into this situation because his name was placed into the Goblet of Fire against his will. Getting him out of the whole tournament was a completely different issue he was still feverishly working through.

"I think it is rather obvious," he said to Harry, "you need to ask someone to go with you, otherwise you'll be standing alone while the other champions lead off the dancing around you. I imagine it won't be particularly difficult given your unique position."

"That's what Ron said," Harry huffed. "I can't ask a girl to the dance!"

Trying to keep his mind open, Severus narrowed his eyes and asked, "A boy then?"

If it were possible, Harry's entire face turned another three shades redder, "That's not the reason!"

"My apologies," the professor said, quickly raising his hands in defeat. "Then what is the reason?"

The Gryffindor pushed his carrots around his plate, "For one, I can't dance... Then, I don't even know who I would ask, and I definitely have no idea what to say to ask."

"The what to say part is easy, 'Do you want to go with me to the Yule Ball' is generally a good way to start," Severus explained sarcastically. "The first one I can help; though I will give you a fair warning that I am not a very established dancer, however you won't be completely inept at it.

"As for whom to ask? You have to figure that out for yourself. My recommendation is to think if there is any particular person you'd have a good time with; don't overthink it Harry, you're only fourteen."

Severus had been wrong; Harry's face could absolutely get redder. It wasn't as if this was an easy conversation for him either. At some point, every parent knew this type of conversation was bound to happen, and the Potions Master had not been looking forward to it. Having had no real father figure growing up, Severus was trying his hardest to do right by Harry. Times like these though, he wished he had some decent memories of his own upbringing to draw upon.

"Well, there is someone..." Harry trailed off exceedingly embarrassed and Severus was sure his own face matched his son's discomfort at this point.

"As I'm likely the professor to this student, please tread carefully," he warned, unsure how that could impact the situation either way.

Harry's head fell onto his hands on the table in front of him and he mumbled from the table, "I didn't even think about that! You'll be there too, won't you?"

"Yes, I am unfortunately required to chaperone the event," the professor said, unhappy with the fact he couldn't get out of it no matter how hard he had tried. "It will be fine Harry."

"Who taught you to dance?" Harry asked suddenly, lifting his head with a curious expression on his face.

"Your mother," Severus said with a layer of grief in his voice he could never keep away when talking about Lily. It wasn't only that it was difficult to discuss because he had loved her so much; it was also because remembering her reminded him about the two biggest mistakes of his life. At least now he could say something good came from all of that destruction - he has Harry.

"She would have loved the idea of the Yule Ball; a reason to get dressed up and dance," Severus continued remembering his best and only friend. "She also would know exactly what to tell you about how to ask whomever it is you are interested in."

Harry sat there silent and Severus could see him deeply contemplating some odd thought in his head. The Gryffindor worried his lower lip and then seemed to gain the courage to ask.

"Would she have gone with my dad?" Harry asked so quietly Severus almost didn't hear him from the other side of the kitchen table.

Using his Occlumency not to let his anger resurface, he could see the pain in Harry's eyes. They discussed Lily often, but Severus had nothing good to say about James and therefore strategically never mentioned the man. Of course Harry would pick up on how uncomfortable it makes him and avoid the topic. It wasn't fair to his son to never be able to talk about his parents for fear of hurting Severus and the professor hated putting Harry in the middle like that.

"If it were in our seventh year, she absolutely would have," the professor said confidently. "At that point, they had been dating exclusively. I imagine James was a decent dancer as well. For all you know, you could have a hidden talent within you."

"I doubt that!" Harry laughed before getting serious again, "And what about before seventh year?"

"Lily would have probably gone alone and not thought twice about it." Severus replied. "Your mother was confident enough not to need someone with her to have a good time."

The Yule Ball was held on the last night before the start of the winter holiday allowing Severus and Harry to go home to Spinner's End the next day where they would be staying for Christmas. The professor had finally found the loophole he'd been searching for to get Harry out of the Triwizard Tournament and he was anxious to discuss it with Harry away from the stresses of classes and the Yule Ball. Theoretically, if Harry were to use Severus's surname, it should break the contract with the Goblet of Fire since Harry legally had a right to use it after the adoption. Of course, it was a big step to go from Harry James Potter to Harry James Potter-Snape and he was nervous about how the teenager would react to that news. Harry very well could decide that participating in the last two tasks was better than taking the Snape surname.

Severus had gotten Harry a nice set of green dress robes for the occasion - to match his emerald green eyes - however Harry was getting ready up in Gryffindor tower with his friends, meaning he wouldn't get to see his son until they both arrived at the Yule Ball. He would also see for the first time, who Harry had decided to ask to the ball. After their awkward talk about dancing and dates Harry had conveniently left out the name of the girl he had asked, only telling Severus that he did in fact have a date... Or dance partner according to Minerva.

As a chaperone, the professor was required to stay for the entirety of the ball, starting from dinner until the last student was kicked out. Severus dressed in a nice set of black dress robes he had in the back of his wardrobe, but hardly ever wore, then made his way up to the extravagantly decorated Great Hall. Keeping a keen eye to stay away from Igor Karkaroff - refusing to let that man's insistent worrying about the Dark Lord's return sour his night - he chose a seat that would keep him far from view.

Overall, the evening went well and everyone - both students and staff - seemed to have a good time. Severus thanked Merlin that he managed to get out of dancing every time he was asked, which was about four times before he stopped counting. No matter how hard he tried to maintain his acerbic exterior, after he adopted Harry - for reasons Severus had not yet identified - the staff thought he had softened. The best part of the night was getting to see Harry having a good time. He'd never tell a soul this, however he felt himself fill with pride as Harry started the dance with the Ravenclaw seeker Cho Chang. For as nervous as Harry was leading up to the ball, he looked confident in himself throughout the night.

As the last handful of students were exiting the Great Hall right before midnight - hopefully already packed and ready to leave in the morning for the Hogwarts Express - Severus was surprised by Harry coming up to his side. He was still in his dress robes even though the Gryffindor had presumably gone back to the tower thirty minutes ago causing the professor to question where exactly his son had been.

"Did you have a good time?" Severus asked, picking off some random lint from the young wizard's shoulder.

"Yeah, I did," Harry said smiling. "How about you? Was it as awful as you expected?"

"I survived," he replied with a smirk. "Miss. Chang seemed to enjoy your company."

Harry's face immediately turned bright red, "Don't be weird about it, alright? We had a good time."

Severus gave a hard sigh at Harry's embarrassment, "Will you be taking the train tomorrow?"

The Gryffindor nodded, "Is that still alright?"

"Of course, I'll be there to pick you up at King's Cross," he placed his arm around Harry's shoulders leading him towards the staircase that would take him up to the tower. It was something so small, but he knew how much Harry liked the idea of someone being there to pick him up from the train station even when they could floo to Spinner's End faster. "Go get some rest, I have a feeling everyone will be exhausted tomorrow."

"Thank you Severus," Harry gave the professor a small hug, "see you in the morning!"

Severus watched his teenage son run off up the stairs before he turned back to his quarters in the dungeons relishing in how normal their life had become.

~~~~SS~~~~

"Put me down Lupin!" Severus bellowed angrily the moment both men stepped out from the floo. The former spy thought Lupin was overreacting to begin with and the last thing he wanted was to cause Harry any more reason to panic, "I can walk perfectly fine."

"What happened?" The young Gryffindor asked expectantly, making a move as if to get up from the sofa, but then changed his mind and leaned back against it. Obviously, he was still feeling ill and Severus was pleased to finally see at least some sense of self-preservation in the teen. Perhaps he was actually getting through to Harry about taking care of his own needs occasionally.

"We were ambushed," the werewolf answered helping Severus sit down in the armchair. "Right at the end too..."

The former spy stopped listening to the conversation around him the moment he set his eyes on the healer tied up, unconscious on the floor. His mind immediately started contemplating what could have happened tonight for Alton to have ended up in that position. With both Draco and Harry here, it was impossible to determine who cast the spells on the healer, and even with Draco's alliance solidified he didn't want to give away the fact that Harry's magic was not in fact depleting. His final - and most important - observation before asking the burning question, was that it appeared as if both Harry and Draco were safe and mostly unharmed.

"What the hell happened here?" Severus quickly interrupted drawing both boys and Lupin's attention to the man tied up in the room.

Harry's brows lowered, "Malfoy was-"

"I was saying his sorry life," Draco called out without the malice Severus would have expected given the situation he had returned to. If Draco took down Alton, it would almost be worth asking to see the memory just find out how Harry had reacted. He could guess it had not gone well.

"He didn't try a single thing to threaten my life!" Harry spat back appearing exceedingly pale. Surveying around the room, Severus noticed another thing missing.

"Where are Mr. Weasley and Miss. Granger? They were supposed to stay here with you," The defense professor asked Harry, holding back a grimace. He hates to admit to himself that he desperately needed to see Madam Pomfrey this time around.

"I didn't need them here," Harry replied defiantly before changing his tone to one of confusion. "Or I didn't think I did because I thought you sent Healer Smithe. Apparently I was wrong?"

"Yes, you were wrong. I sent Ron and Hermione down here," Severus replied with a groan. He stood back up and struggled to remove his outer robe, a feat made more difficult by also trying not to move his left arm. Even through his black clothing, it was obvious his side was bleeding and he needed to see how bad the cut was.

"I told you to be careful," Harry spoke up and his face flushed giving away his impromptu concern. Lupin appeared confused and it was hard to remember that with Harry isolated away, that statement would be particularly odd to the outsider.

"Oh don't worry Harry," Lupin said, "Severus held his own out there. You should have seen the Death Eaters he managed to take down."

"It was far too easy," the former spy said, distracted by summoning his own personal supply of Essence of Dittany to start healing his wounds.

Unfortunately, his left arm and side had been hit by a well aimed Sectumsempra via Bellatrix - giving him yet another reason to want to rid the world of her presence - so he first started the counter curse incantation. Given the depth of the wounds, he wouldn't be surprised if he needed further healing even after applying the Essence of Dittany afterwards, and even then, he may still have issues using his arm come Monday morning.

"I always took you as a more modest man than that Severus," Lupin chuckled. He watched the professor healing his wounds, but knew better than to even try to help the stubborn professor.

"Not that Lupin," Severus yelled, "the mission! Wouldn't you agree that it was a little too easy to enter the manor tonight?"

The former Death Eater was genuinely surprised when Lupin actually took a moment to consider the suggestion. He would have half expected the other man to wave off his observation as paranoid.

"Yes, I do," he eventually said thoughtfully, "However, leaving the manor proved to be much more complicated than expected. Isn't that how these things usually go?"

"Did you get them?" Draco suddenly asked impatiently. He was on edge, likely knowing if the mission went south, he would likely be blamed for bad intelligence.

"We did," Severus replied with another moan. The large cut from his left shoulder down to his elbow had been deep and in addition to the dozens of cuts scattered across his face, Severus had several burns, particularly on the left side. He had managed to heal his side and arm at least enough to be able to floo without incurring more damage, yet it still would need further care once they arrived at Headquarters where Poppy was waiting on the injured. "They're at the safe house as we speak with Albus."

Relief crossed the blonde Slytherin's face and he then asked, "So why are you here instead of Headquarters? Weren't you supposed to go straight there?"

"Unfortunately we had company when we apparated," Lupin explained checking himself for injuries, "so we went to different location hoping they wouldn't be able to follow, sent word to Dumbledore, and then as an extra precaution floo'ed here to wait for the hunt to end."

"So then what happened? Obviously something went wrong" Harry asked, turning between the other men in the room. "And why does Malfoy know what's going on?"

"We needed his assistance on something for the Order," Severus explained honestly. He could tell Harry was about to argue until the floo turned bright green and Albus walked out with a purpose - not even pausing as his eyes wandered over to Alton still knocked out on the floor - followed immediately by Molly. The red-headed witch was frantically searching the room until she spotted Harry and walked over to him to give him a hug.

"Are you ready Severus?" The headmaster asked, approaching his professor. "Poppy is ready for you at Headquarters. It looks as if we should take the opportunity to escort Healer Smithe alongside us. What a convenient coincidence."

"You can't go anywhere," Harry said standing. He was holding onto the edge of the sofa to help stay steady on his feet. "You're obviously hurt!"

"Madam Pomfrey is already at Headquarters," Molly repeated patting Harry's arm nervously. Severus silently questioned who else showed up injured or if there were any fatalities, but he dared not ask in the current company. "She'll be sure to heal him straight away."

"Draco, are you injured?" Severus asked grimacing as he stood to take his leave.

"Nothing much sir," the blonde replied.

"Stay here and we will discuss what happened tonight once I return," he then did his best to kneel in front of Harry, however his body was in too much pain to bend. "I would say you don't need to wait up, except I know how your mind works by now and you will anyways. So instead, should you be up when I return, we'll discuss an abridged version of tonight's events. I promise you this was not how I saw the events of tonight going and that you are completely safe; as am I."

Harry audibly gulped at the last sentence, giving away how nervous he was about it all. There was zero chance of the Gryffindor sleeping before Severus's return, meaning the professor had another long night ahead of him.

Using the floo to get to headquarters agitated Severus's partially healed injuries. Therefore, walking - or more accurately limping - into the dining room of Grimmauld Place was excruciating. The room around him couldn't be further from the dining room it originally was, and instead appeared more like the combination of a command center and a first aid tent in the middle of a battle. Moody was debriefing Kingsley at one end of the table, proof that his injuries had already been healed by the lack of cuts and burns across his face as Severus had last seen him. The two men made eye contact and the former Auror gave a small nod of appreciation to the defense professor. Severus had no idea if Kingsley and his team had endured the same level of confrontation as the team at Malfoy Manor had at the end, yet based on the condition of the witches and wizards around the room, whatever they experienced was not easy.

Albus guided a levitating Alton Smithe through the dining room and into the drawing room where he proceeded to tie the still-bound healer upright in a chair.

"Veritaserum?" Severus asked his mentor, taking a seat in a plush armchair, cradling his left arm.

He wanted to get this over with and head back to Harry and the truth serum was the most effective way. It wasn't that he thought Molly was unable to handle whatever may come up with Harry tonight, it was simply that he was tired and he wanted - more than anything - to explain himself to the teen about what had happened. The Gryffindor had to be confused as to why his healer had been bound and dragged unconsciously off to the Order's headquarters, as well as why Severus had gone into battle at Malfoy Manor in the first place. He hated both the situation and himself for putting Harry through the anxiety he had to be feeling over all of this.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Albus explained. The look in his eyes told Severus that the headmaster wanted him to use Legilimency. It would be a more accurate way to extract the necessary information from the man. "What is necessary, is that you're seen by Poppy prior to our interrogation."

With her normal impeccable timing, the medi-witch entered the drawing room in a huff.

"Of all the impulsive things you could have done," she lectured towards the headmaster while tending to Severus's wounds, "sending two groups in completely unprepared and under supported; it was practically a suicide mission."

"Were there any losses?" The former spy asked hesitantly.

"Not from our side my boy," Albus quickly said causing Severus to narrow his eyes in response. How many Death Eaters had they been able to take down between the two battles? Unfortunately, no matter the number it obviously wasn't anyone high up in the ranks, as Severus had seen most of them accounted for before he'd left the Manor.

It took roughly twenty minutes for the medi-witch to heal his wounds as much as they could with magic and potions. The burns on his face and along his left side were easily handled with burn salve and she'd managed to finish the healing to his side that he had started in his quarters. As he'd expected, the cuts on his arm and side required extensive healing to the muscle and nerves underneath and he was required to use a sling for extra support. No matter how insistent he was that he was fine and did not require the damn sling, when Poppy threatened to keep him overnight at the hospital wing he conceded under the conditions that he would rest his arm for at least the next two days.

Making eye contact with Albus, he nodded his head to the unasked question. It was time to wake up Alton and find out exactly what had been going on with the healer. The two wizards pulled their wands and pointed them directly at Alton Smithe.

"Rennervate" Albus said; neither wizard made a move as the healer stirred in front of them. His hands and legs were still bound - in addition to being bound to the chair - and naturally the man struggled against the restraints until he saw both wizards standing with their wands brandished at his chest.

"Severus?" The healer asked highly confused, "What's going on? Where am I?"

"You get one chance to cooperate with me Alton or your wife and daughter will be sent back to the Dark Lord and I will not stop him from doing whatever he wants with them," the former Death Eater threatened darkly. He was bluffing about Sarah and Mary, of course, nonetheless he needed to create an emotional response so he could quickly and most effectively use Legilimency.

As anticipated, Alton's kind brown eyes went wide and having zero training in how to handle a wizarding interrogation, he immediately stared directly into Severus's dark black eyes. The professor was focused - not even hearing the healer ask if his family was finally safe - and the moment they made eye contact, his wand was pointed at Alton's head and he said "Legilimens."

Severus was thrust into his friend's mind and immediately saw flashes of Sarah and Mary throughout the years, being as they were clearly fresh on Alton's mind. Having no Occlumency training, it was not at all difficult to pass by those innocent thoughts and followed the thread to find the ones he was searching for. It was still highly chaotic and the scenes quickly flashed across his own mind-

"Why are you treating Harry Potter?" The dark voice of Voldemort could be heard ringing through his ears.