~~~~SS~~~~

The chairs in the chemotherapy center, at least those meant for the support person of the patient receiving treatment, were some of the most uncomfortable chairs Severus had ever sat in. They were made of hard plastic giving no flexibility for the user's body shape, and Severus's particular chair that morning wobbled awkwardly on its metal legs with every shift of his position. To make him even more uncomfortable, the large room didn't have even the hint of a breeze making it feel stiflingly hot and Severus found himself almost suffocating from the heat; though Harry and the other patients stayed bundled up under blankets receiving their treatment for the day.

Not having to go through what Harry did during these appointments meant the professor would never actually verbalize his complaints about his discomfort, and instead chose to suffer silently in the universe's hardest chair, while rolling the sleeves of his shirt up as his only reprieve from the oppressive heat. It brought to light how often he - and most witches and wizards - altered furniture, or their environment as a whole, to meet their individual comfort on a regular basis, and the disadvantage muggles had over small things like that in their magicless life. Hopefully, this retraining process would allow Harry to retain at least some of his magic so he could live as comfortably as possible. Harry moaned, drawing Severus's attention back to the child in front of him and somewhere in his gloomy demeanor, he could admit today's appointment likely seemed worse than usual because the pair of wizards had arrived directly from St Mungo's where Harry had just barely been discharged an hour ago, leaving both of them on very little sleep.

Thinking back it also didn't help that the previous day had challenged Severus more than it should have for being a former Death Eater who regularly found himself in Voldemort's presence and actively lying to the dark wizard's face. As expected, Harry hadn't reacted well over Draco being questioned about the events from the Diagon Alley attack, sounding almost like he'd rather take the blame than have the blonde involved. It took Severus about a half an hour to explain to Harry what had happened - both at the DMLE and Diagon Alley - and throughout the entire thing, the young wizard quietly sat with a look of pure defiance on his face, as if Severus had somehow betrayed him for going to the blonde's aid. Shifting his weight in the uncomfortable chair Severus watched Harry as he thought back on what had happened with Draco the previous day:

When Severus had first arrived at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement - after Alton reassured him several times he would be notified immediately if Harry awoke in his absence - he followed Kingsley through the office, ignoring the states and murmurings coming from those around him. Barely halfway through the aurors office, the former spy could already hear the arrogant aggression spewing from Draco's snide remarks at whoever had been assigned to take his statement. Severus's adrenaline kicked in when he recognized the fear Draco had been trying to cover, and he quickened his steps through the messy, loud office, towards a private room in the back where they were holding the young Slytherin.

"Why is Williamson taking point on this?" Severus demanded, approaching the doorway to the office slowly.

"It's his territory," Kingsley responded, "and I have no reason not to allow it. We're already under close scrutiny as it is from Scrimgeour for our failure in locating and taking down Voldemort, and I can't very well remove an officer as respected as Williamson without an impeccably good reason."

"And a vendetta against Death Eaters isn't enough?"

"Then you'd be talking about more than half of my department, Severus," the lead Auror rationalized. "I need something more than that."

He didn't knock - already having decided he'd rather deal with his own fallout than continue to leave Draco getting harassed - when he finally pushed through the almost closed door. The sight before him made his blood boil. As he'd guessed, unfortunately, and inappropriately in Severus's opinion, Auror Mark Williamson appeared to be overseeing the investigation, explaining how what should have been a simple witness testimony turned into something more akin to an interrogation. Severus had the deplorable pleasure of several run-ins with the decorated Auror in his time as a Death Eater during the first war, when Williamson - a Gryffindor before even Lucius's time at Hogwarts - had still been relatively new to the force and desperate to prove himself. In a fashion too similar to Severus's own rising up within the Death Eaters, this particular auror worked his way up the ranks, quickly earning himself a position on the team solely dedicated to search for, and subsequently arrest as many Death Eaters as they could; a team aptly headed by Alastor Moody. Those two made quite the pair, and had Severus not been dueling against them as often as he had, he would admit to their many talents with both defensive and offensive spells. Severus could only assume that once Moody stepped down from the DMLE, Williamson took over leading the task force in hunting down the remaining Death Eaters, at least until the hype around Voldemort's first death had dissipated. After that point, Severus had no clue - or desire to know - what Auror Williamson had been assigned to, but at some point, Kingsley over ranked him and took over the lead when Voldemort returned, leaving Williamson lower on the team.

Of all the history Severus personally had with the auror, the most significant piece - and the most pertinent to Draco's current situation - came from the second Privet Drive attack last year; the one where the Order successfully rescued Sarah and Mary Smithe from Malfoy Manor. During Severus's debriefing with the young spy over the event, Draco described his first ever duel against an auror; one who Severus instantly recognized as Williamson by the wand work alone. That night, Draco confessed to feeling overwhelmed, to the point he was certain he'd be killed, and Severus remembered his own duels against Williamson; more specifically the sheer ferocity and passion the other wizard had thrown in every curse and hex. Under different circumstances, it would have reminded the professor of Harry's style of dueling, and he admitted that had life gone a little differently - had the young Gryffindor not been diagnosed with Leukemia - he could have made an excellent auror in the field. True to his nature, on the night of the second Privet Drive attack, Williamson fought valiantly, with hexes aimed to kill, not knowing the masked Death Eater he fought had not only been a child, but also one aligned with the Order as a spy - a piece of information which only became public after the trials. The fact that Draco walked away from that duel alive technically meant he'd won, however they both knew emotional wounds could run deeper, and leave just as many scars, than physical ones and the young wizard had been shaken up after the encounter. It had been Draco's first real lesson in living the life of a spy; a defeating realization that should he be killed in battle, he would die labeled as a Death Eater, only to be mourned in secrecy.

"- don't know why you even bothered asking, if you had zero intention on believing a bloody word I said!" Draco's familiar drawl echoed across the walls, causing Severus to exhale and steel his nerves for the task ahead of him. Like Harry, Severus hadn't seen Draco much after returning to the school and the two of them hadn't much time - or courage, if he were being honest with himself - to clear the air between them.

"Is there a problem here?" Severus called while stalking into the room in an effort to appear to have more control over the situation than he had. "Sounds to me like you should be listening to what your witness has to say, rather than interrogating him."

It reminded him far too much of his own interrogation with Moody at the Hogwarts hospital wing after the first Privet Drive attack. The middle-aged balding wizard in his customary red Auror's robes was leaning over the desk towards Draco, who - to his credit - appeared calm, outside of the scowl plastered across his face. The teenager looked to be unrestrained nor did he have any other hints of an arrest outside of the blatant aggression being thrown at him from his interviewer. Again, a hard lesson about being a spy: you will always be second guessed, no matter how much you've done to prove yourself.

"Who said anything about interrogating him?" Auror Williamson stood and walked to face Severus, giving a glance down at the professor's left forearm. There would never be a day he - nor Draco - wouldn't be judged by their mistakes in life. Long after the Dark Mark faded, they'd still be seen by nothing more than Death Eaters who were freed.

"Just calling it how I see it," the former spy threatened. "Are you alright, Draco?"

"I'm fine," the blonde Slytherin spat back from across the table. "I'd be better if they could get my statement and leave me be."

"What's keeping him here?" Severus demanded from either Auror.

"He claims-" Williamson emphasized the word as a show of his dominance, "he saw a pair of wizards he recognized as You-Know-Who's followers. Seems a bit convenient for a Marked man, if you ask me."

The implication - Draco seeing Death Eaters attack Diagon Alley and Williamson suggesting Draco had been involved rather than a witness - ran his blood ice cold. The need to tread lightly, yet still maintaining his sense of authority, was at its highest.

"Have you collected his memories?" Kingsley asked, trying to defuse the situation. "I take it, he's agreed to that."

" 'Course I did, boss,'' Williamson pointed to a small pensieve sitting in the corner of the office where thin silver strands danced in the water. "Something seems off with them, though."

"Draco," Severus called as non-threateningly as possible, "would it be alright if I took a look with Auror Shacklebolt?"

He could see Draco's high cheekbones stiffen at the request and he knew Williamson had spoken the truth. For a split second, Severus assumed he was about to be denied his request - and he wouldn't blame his young Slytherin - so when the blonde swiftly nodded, he had to hide his genuine surprise.

Landing in the memory, he knew exactly what Auror Williamson had been referring to: the memory had a fuzziness around it normally associated with a tampered memory. Memory retrieval from witnesses was a highly debated practice in the DMLE, and reserved for only the most precarious situations - when a witness's testimony either cannot be trusted or is conflicting with other testimonies. In Draco's case, both would be true.

Kingsley dropped down right behind him and shook his head.

"This isn't good, Severus," the Auror warned. "He knows Occlumency?"

"Of course he does, however if he altered using that method, you'd never know it. He was nervous," Severus tried to rationalize after a second. "You said he came forward on his own, correct?"

"That's right," the other wizard confirmed. "He asked for me directly, but unfortunately I'd already left for the scene and Williamson returned first. By the time I made it back to the DMLE the interview had already started. Once I overheard his story, I went immediately to find you."

Severus nodded, watching the scene before him unfold.

Draco had been walking along the storefronts across from where Harry and his friends were wandering outside of Flourish and Blotts. If he didn't know Hermione was the blonde's girlfriend, the way he had been watching them would look suspicious in and of itself. Instead, he justified it as a nervous teenage boy wanting to approach the girl he loved, but equally not wanting to cause a scene with the other two Gryffindor wizards; especially because Harry and Draco still hadn't made amends yet. Overall, not a crime, though it didn't help make him look less guilty.

A sound from around the corner - clearer, Severus observed, than he would have expected given the action going on in Diagon Alley as Harry had begun attracting more people to his presence - drew Draco's attention away from the Golden Trio and toward Olivander's. The fuzziness from the memory started to clear, and by the time they approached the famous wand shop, where their surroundings used to be hazy, now appeared crystal clear.

"It's cleared up," he made sure to point out to Kingsley, who was in full Auror detective mode, examining the surroundings to be sure no small detail was overlooked, "I'm willing to bet the start of the memory had more to do with his nerves and amateur ability to capture his memories than an attempt to tamper with it."

Kingsley didn't appear nearly as confident with the former spy's reasoning, but eventually, he skeptically replied, "I can work with that so long as the rest stays this clear."

It was the best he could ask for given the situation. Luckily, for himself and Draco, they didn't encounter any more haziness nor any other reason to doubt the remainder of the memory because what he eventually saw absolutely would relieve Harry of any guilt in the situation. Just as Draco rounded the corner, two wizards in dark cloaks were seen creeping down Diagon Alley.

"Lazuli Ash and Theodore Talpin," Severus identified the two men, "they were as low-level followers as one could get. Both unmarked, but would have done - or killed - just about anything for the chance at it. They never would have made it though, the Dark Lord enjoyed toying with their emotions and needed their intel far too much to risk them becoming complacent. They'd come on raids when more wands were needed, but their involvement didn't go much further."

The pair of wizards watched, alongside Draco, as Ash continued down Diagon Alley and Talpin stayed behind eyeing the other patrons as they continued to gather around Harry and his friends. Draco turned at the sounds of the crowd gawking, which Severus knew was caused after Harry pushed down the wizard who had scared him, and given the timeline of events, he worried they were going to miss the damning evidence he desperately needed. It was one thing to see someone looking suspicious, and another to actually see said person doing something suspicious, and they needed the latter to prove both Draco - now that the teen had stepped forward admitting, as a Marked former Death Eater, he'd been at the scene of the crime - and Harry's innocence in the attack. At the very last second, Draco turned just in time to see Talpin cast fire from his wand, throw it into Olivander's, and then duck away to stay safely out of sight.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Severus breathed a sigh of relief, unaware he'd said the words out loud.

"He'll be fine, Severus," Kingsley confidently stated, "Both boys will be. I'll get Williamson to start canvassing for these two wizards tonight, and with a perfect ID, I don't anticipate too much trouble finding them."

"They never were the sharpest of his followers," Severus criticized. "They'd have to be complete idiots to think someone wouldn't see them here… Olivander's, could they choose a more public location?"

"You'd be surprised over some of the things we see," Kingsley countered. "Let's get back so I can release Mr Malfoy."

"Well, what did I tell you?" Auror Williamson accused no sooner than when Severus and Kingsley's feet landed back into the office. "He's hiding something-" the angry wizard turned to Draco "-and trust me, I'm going to get it out of you!"

Without thinking - and in hindsight, sitting in the chemotherapy center looking back on it, Severus should have controlled himself better - the former spy pulled Auror Williamson by the collar of his red robes until he fell flat on his back onto the hard, black and white marble floor.

"Never lay a hand on him again," Severus menacingly yelled down into the other wizard's face. Then kneeling over him, in a voice just above an angry whisper, he promised, "otherwise you'll find you have me to deal with, and you don't want me as your enemy, Williamson."

"Did you catch that, Shacklebolt?" The scared auror asked his boss when Severus finally stood.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear a thing," Kingsley feigned ignorance, then turning to Draco he added, "Your memory's been validated, processed, and stored. You're free to go, but we may need to reach out if we have any follow up questions."

"I'll be in Reims next week with my girlfriend, but I take it you'll know how to find me," the blonde Slytherin hissed and stood, the scowl still plastered on his face to hide the fear Severus could detect, pushing his way out the door.

"Draco!" The professor called out after his former protége, feeling overwhelmingly like he let the teen down these last two months.

"I didn't need your help back there," Draco ranted, doubling back until he was face to face with the professor. "Shouldn't you be plastered at Potter's side? Or am I supposed to feel honored that you left his bedside vigil just to do what I already had under control."

"You have no clue what you're-"

"I know exactly what I'm talking about," Draco interrupted, then waved his wand, placing a privacy ward up around them since they'd generated some of their own interest in the office, "I don't hear shite from you for months and all of a sudden you show up like you have to fix my mistakes? New flash Snape, this isn't like back in the Order. You have no claim over me anymore, and I think I've done my fair share to show you… and anyone else… that I can handle things myself."

"Oh, excuse me," the professor sarcastically retorted, "I must have missed how you planned to explain a completely obvious attempt at altering a memory."

The Malfoy heir physically recoiled at the accusation, his nostrils flaring in a combination of anger and embarrassment.

"What did you alter?" Severus had asked, then immediately held his hand up to stop whatever answer - most likely a lie - was about to come from the teen's mouth. "On second thought, don't tell me. Do not tell a soul, not even Hermione, understood?"

He could only hope Draco would heed his warning and keep whatever the original content of the memory was to himself, because if he told anyone why that memory had been altered, it could be detrimental to his reputation and his legal defense in the matter.

Last night, by the time Severus made it back to St Mungo's - after a quick stop by home for clothes and reading material - it was already almost ten o'clock at night and he couldn't wait to put an end to the horrible day; even if Harry remained unconscious until morning. Although there had been no indication the Gryffindor suffered any more unconscious than awake, guilt over the idea of getting - and needing - a good night's rest weighed heavily on his mind, causing him to toss and turn while he attempted to sleep in the transfigured chair, his black traveling cloak draped over him as a blanket.

Today, Severus wanted nothing more than to simply take the young wizard home instead of having him sit at the impersonal chemotherapy center. Actually, his first preference would have been to keep Harry at St Mungo's until all of the lingering effects from his accidental magic had ceased, but the second Alton checked in on the Gryffindor this morning and Harry could more or less move without grimacing in pain, the Gryffindor demanded to leave. Severus knew his arguing would be futile - Harry being of age would work against him in this regard - and therefore committed to making sure the young wizard at least tried to rest as much as possible at home after chemotherapy.

"Why is this wedding so important to you?" Severus asked while Harry sat back in the reclined chair, his eyes closed as he was getting his prophylactic medications and waiting on his latest blood results, which the same nurse from last month - Samantha - had recently taken. Under no circumstances did he want to sound confrontational, but the question had been lingering in his mind since Harry's rather bold declaration last night of needing to be there, and if nothing else, it would take both of their attention away from their exhaustion.

"Well," the Gryffindor opened his eyes, sitting up further in the chair to face Severus trying not to wince from the lingering pain in his body, "for one, Ron's my best friend, and the Weasley's were pretty much my first family. I should be there to support them." He started to play with the hem of his shirt as he contemplated continuing. "Plus, for whatever it's worth, Fleur competed with me in the tournament and… well… you wouldn't really understand… but I need to be there for her, too."

The professor had to think back to his counterpart's memories of those events because his Harry - his son - hadn't competed in the tournament after the first task. Where he was from, Harry safely cheered on Cedric from the stands as the Hufflepuff won the tournament, and then the entire castle stayed up far too late celebrating. Images of Gillyweed stolen from his storeroom, the eerie maze, and a severely injured Harry landing with Cedric's dead body danced across his eyes. It made perfect sense why the teenager would always feel connected to Fleur - and Viktor - even if the Veela wasn't about to marry into his surrogate family. They had all survived an event forever linking them together in a way no other person could understand, and yet none of them should have had to experience it.

"I understand," he replied. The cream colored blanket had fallen from Harry's lap when he'd sat up, so Severus reached down and placed it back onto the chilled teen.

"Thanks," Harry said, wrapping himself in the blanket, making Severus feel even hotter just watching him. "I thought you'd be happy I still wanted to come today… self-preservation and all that stuff you say I need to learn more of."

"Deciding to leave a trained medical facility while only barely able to function as a result of an… accident… is hardly what I had in mind when making those statements," he lectured, "in fact, dare I say, it's quite the opposite."

"Eh," Harry smirked, "It's just trading off one ailment for another. Besides, this will help keep me out of the Auror's office a little longer, right?"

"How did you-"

"Good guess," Harry answered the question before the professor could finish. "Even if Malfoy managed to prove I didn't do it, I'm pretty sure I'm not that lucky to get out of this without a single question."

"Unfortunately, you are correct," Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, stressed just thinking about what to expect in the coming weeks, "Kingsley plans to speak with you about what happened. They'll likely ask to see your memory of the event as well."

Harry stiffened, "Can they do that? Ask to see my memory of it?"

"Yes, they can. And being an adult in our world now means you'll need to give your consent, otherwise…"

"I'll look guilty," Harry once again finished.

"Here we are!" Samantha's bright and bubbly voice called over to them as she approached with a file holding Harry's latest blood results and his IV bag of chemotherapy. Before setting anything up, she opened the file and explained, "Your blood results came back perfect and Dr Swanson has everything in place for today. No IT this time, so once this runs through you'll be good to go until next month."

Severus shook his head slightly. Good to go was a phrase only someone who didn't have to deal with after effects of these treatments would use. Under no circumstances could Harry's next day or two be described as good to go.

Putting aside his own sour attitude from the nurse, he listened to her go on about the blood results as she prepped his port. They'd gotten so used to getting clear results - ever since Harry technically went into remission after his first month of Intensive Chemotherapy - Severus found himself humbled every visit when the nurse went through it with them. There were patients who weren't as lucky, who expected to come in like any other treatment only to find something had gone wrong. Harry, he knew, never let his guard down. The professor was well aware how it impacted the young wizard's sleep on a regular basis, and the relief that crossed his emerald eyes couldn't be any more obvious.

The pair of wizards spent the first half of the actual treatment time talking over plans for the wedding, should Harry feel well enough to go. Severus reiterated to the young wizard how the condition of his health referred to not only his chemotherapy and Leukemia side effects, but it now also extended to the damage done by his accidental magic. As promised, Severus resisted the urge to pick up on their conversation from the previous night, or more accurately earlier that morning, about his magic and the Gryffindor's rather hasty decision not to use the ritual instead of going through extensive magical training. Every part of him wanted to demand Harry reconsider - pointing out just how fatal this could end up being in the end - but he wanted to learn from his mistakes in his old reality. Had he approached the dreadful crossroads more clear headed back then, perhaps he could have convinced his son to take the chemotherapy route to begin with. And yet, sitting there listening to Harry go on about Ron, Hermione, Molly Weasley and all the wedding preparations, he found himself not regretting where he ended up at all. He didn't care one bit that this child - the one fighting the same disease which killed his son - wasn't the same, and this life wasn't anything like he imagined; he simply sat there and let the contentment fill him up inside.

"Severus? Do you think you can grab me something to drink?" Harry suddenly asked with only about a quarter of an hour left of his chemotherapy. The former spy watched the teenager carefully, his breathing had become labored and his face paled since the start of his real medication. Severus silently cursed himself for not thinking of a place to stay nearby so they wouldn't have to disapparate back home when Harry felt so sick.

"Let me see what I can find. I'll be right back," he replied and pulled the blanket further up around Harry's chest before walking to the front desk where Samantha sat sorting through paperwork.

"How can I help you, Mr Potter?" The nurse smiled at him. After three months of seeing the woman, it seemed wrong to correct her about his name now. She obviously never looked at the paperwork he signed at each appointment, questioning why his signature surname did not start with a "P".

"Do you happen to have any ginger ale around here?" Asked the professor, a small flinch crossed his cheeks."Or know of where I can get some?"

"Is he feeling queasy already?" She frowned when he nodded and said with a smile, "Let me go and see what I can find for him."

Without thinking, Severus gave a hard exhale, and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows trying to get some relief from the stifling hot room. He leaned against the tall countertop resting his weight on his hands, hoping to release some of his pent up stress.

"That's an interesting tattoo you have there. Does it mean something?"

The question from behind took him off guard and he whipped around - ready to fight should it be necessary - to see another nurse approach the desk from the other side of the waiting room. She looked to be around his age with brown eyes, straight, platinum blonde hair - reminding him of his encounter with Draco less than twenty-four hours ago - and carried a stack of files in her arms. He must have been giving a completely blank stare because she nodded her head to his Dark Mark, now clearly visible with his sleeves rolled up. Instinctively, he pulled the white fabric down to cover it, mindlessly buttoning the two small buttons on each sleeve. The Mark had lightened considerably in the week after Voldemort's demise, and each week he had been pleased to see it continue to lighten until about a fortnight ago when it practically stalled. The ugly skull and snake hadn't faded anywhere near where he'd hoped, not even to the level it had been right before evil wizard's return. It had taken time the first go around, and rationally he knew he needed to be patient, but he was losing his nerve every time he saw the awful reminder of Malfoy Manor.

"It's so I never forget how young and stupid one could be as an eager teenager," he answered, hardly making eye contact with the nurse.

"Sounds like the start of a good story, if you ask me," she placed the files on the counter beside him and said, "I'm Mae, by the way." Then she gave him a questioning smile, while she waited for him to reciprocate his introduction. Therefore, when he simply continued to stare at her without so much as a peep, she continued, "I've seen you here a couple of times-" she looked over to the area of Harry's station, "- is that your son you're with? It's Potter, right?"

The former spy watched her intently. Perhaps he was being too paranoid, but he couldn't help question how many patients walked through these doors in the weeks between Harry's treatments. Surely, too many to remember their measly three times, he determined, especially when Samantha had been Harry's nurse for all three. Being one of the youngest patients in the center during his treatments definitely drew attention to the pair of them, and Severus cursed himself for not realizing that fact until this moment. It would be too easy for someone to pick up on their schedule.

"Yes," Severus skeptically replied, conveniently ignoring her assumption at his surname, "he's my son."

"This disease… it can be hard to handle something like this all alone," she continued, looking down to his hands grasping onto the counter in behind him.

"We manage," the professor narrowed his eyes at the nurse, turning, happy to see Samantha walking towards him with a can of Ginger Ale and a plastic cup of ice.

"He sure is lucky to have you," Mae commented just before Severus left to go back to Harry, "and hopefully he understands the meaning behind that tattoo. Wouldn't want him following whatever story you have behind it."

The exchange with Mae, the nurse, and its oddity, stuck with Severus the rest of the day; long after he returned with the Ginger Ale for Harry - who had already vomited in his absence - and long after returning back home - with their next appointment on the calendar for the 13th of September - where they continued the same song and dance from the previous months of treatments. Severus spent the afternoon hours between the young wizard's bedroom and the tiny lavatory, all the while attempting to urge the Gryffindor to try to eat something - broth and a smoothie - in order to keep his strength after being unconscious half of the previous day. Coming off the stressful day yesterday had been, Severus found himself pushed further than he had ever been, at least since some of Harry's more extreme rounds of chemotherapy last year. He craved longingly for his bed, but knew he wouldn't be getting much sleep over the next two nights.

This disease… it's hard to handle something like this all alone.

Mae's toxic words tore through his mind as he made his way down the stairs and into the sitting room, for the first time, at half past eight that night. Those words - hard to handle this alone - couldn't have come at a worse moment. Was he really doing this alone? No, he had Minerva and Molly... he knew he could call upon either witch at any time if he needed help, however he also knew himself well enough to admit he wouldn't reach out to ask for that help. Why did he think the self-preservation he preached so often to Harry no longer applied to himself? Somehow, the fact he had been the one to make the promise to the small twelve year old to care for the child to the best of his abilities superseded any self-preservation logic, and while it may not have been referring to this child, he took the vow no less seriously.

With Harry finally settled in for however long he could rest, Severus unceremoniously plopped down in his armchair near the fireplace, knowing he should try to sleep too but unable to turn his anxious mind off. Too tired to do it the muggle way, he waved his ebony wand and summoned a glass and the bottle of firewhiskey from the shelf directly behind him, and poured himself a drink.

"Severus?" The stoic voice of Lucius Malfoy called from the fireplace and Severus sighed in frustration. "Would it be alright if I came through for a little… chat?"

The professor ran his hand down his face, not wanting to see the other Slytherin, but knowing after yesterday's events - not to mention the information he had already asked for - the meeting was needed.

"Yes," he reluctantly replied, "come on through."

In a matter of seconds, the Malfoy patriarch was standing in Severus's sitting room, appearing more out of place than he'd ever seen the other wizard in his expensive black and silver Mulberry silk robes. The haughty air around the blonde Slytherin filled up most of the tiny, cramped space demonstrating just how far the two colleagues - tied through their mutual love for the Dark Arts and previous Death Eater activities - could be from one another. Giving his wand another wave, Severus summoned a second glass and poured a healthy serving for Lucius, then topped off his own glass to match.

"Rough day?" The blonde asked, taking the drink and a seat on the sofa beside the professor.

"One could say that," he answered vaguely, sipping his amber drink. "Harry had chemotherapy today, after just barely being able to walk himself out of St Mungo's."

He explained it as if the other man could somehow relate to his troubles. If Lucius had ever sat with Draco while the teen had been ill, Severus would go straight to Albus and demand to be the head of Hufflepuff. Glancing over at the blonde, he questioned if that were true now. Clearly, Lucius had changed - as they all had - in response to Voldemort's return, the only question became: was it too little, too late to repair his own damaged relationship with his son.

"And you're certain there's no use in even attempting the new potions?" Lucius casually asked. "My team has already made some… significant… changes to the approach per the guidelines from Nadine Walker. It's about the only light of day she gave my offer, so far."

"The original formulation had a toxic error made in the procedure," the professor painfully pointed out, "instead of removing the overgrown cells, it added to them."

"Yes, I had been informed of such by Ms Walker," Lucius shook his head disappointedly. "An amateur mistake that would not have made it past my team without discovery had we been the original creators. Which is also why we need a Potions Master as renowned as yourself on staff."

Tucking his pain as tightly as he could behind his Occlumency shields, Severus looked over to Lucius, trying yet again to recruit him over, although this time he wasn't about to dismiss it so quickly.

"If you'll recall from my previous life, I did not discover the error," Severus lamented, "though I may give your offer another consideration."

The half smile crossing the blonde's face almost made him immediately rescind his statement.

"Not going back to the school after all?" The blonde boasted, then quickly added, "not that I blame you, teaching is a-"

"I am returning to the classroom this year," the professor interrupted, "I may, however, be able to provide some part-time assistance."

Lucius skeptically looked around the small room. From his vantage point, the other Slytherin could see into most of the kitchen through the opened door to his left, and to his right he could see out the empty doorway to the stairs leading up to the second floor. Two of his tiny 56 square meter home could fit within the Malfoy Manor entrance hall, and Severus suddenly felt more judged from the aristocratic man than ever before. The suggestion to work part-time had nothing to do with the salary - given he lived in his childhood home, his pay from Hogwarts could comfortably support Harry and himself - instead it came from the realization that after the Diagon Alley attack there was truly a need for muggle and magical medicine to come together in a cohesive discipline.

Muggle medicine, for example, had a wider range of medications, such as the levels of sleeping aids Harry refused to use. They could take something as simple as melatonin, the natural hormone responsible for falling asleep, or increase to an over the counter tablet working more effectively than its natural counterpart, without the addictive qualities. And if the patient required an even stronger dose, prescription tablets - in a wide range of strengths - could be taken. In the wizarding world, a person was limited to Dreamless Sleep, and its highly addictive qualities limited its use significantly. This format could be found across many levels of muggle medicine; both in treating and diagnosing illnesses. Muggle medicine wasn't without its faults, as Severus and Harry were intimately aware of, the biggest being how long they took to work and its ineffective targeting as a close second. Imagine the possibilities if they could combine the benefits of muggle diagnostics and medicine with the magical ability to work almost instantaneously?

"An ill child and two jobs?" Lucius taunted, "Aren't you biting off a bit more than you can chew?"

"Allow me to be the judge of that. Besides, from what I saw at the Ministry yesterday, you have your hands full yourself," Severus curtly replied. "Nor does it appear as if you need to reach out to your associate any longer. It's obvious there is some kind of activity from Voldemort's remaining followers, no matter how lowly they were."

Lucius gave a small hmph from the back of his throat and took a large sip of his whiskey. "I'd hardly call Ash and Talpin a threat to the wizarding world as a whole. Yesterday was a prime example of their idiocracy. All of their efforts and not a single fatality."

Severus didn't exactly agree with the sentiment behind the statement, yet that didn't make it any less true.

"As for your original inquiry," the Malfoy patriarch continued while shifting his glass nervously between his hands, "you may be interested to know I came across several very interesting cargo manifests making their way from Denmark to a final destination both us are far too intimately familiar with."

The older Slytherin placed his glass dramatically on the table between them and pulled out several pieces of parchment from his inside robe pocket. He looked over the contents prior to handing them across the tiny space into the professor's waiting hands. It quickly became apparent - even before he saw the destination listed as one of Voldemort's more obscure safe houses - the contents in these shipments would be put to nefarious use. Lucius had come through after all.

"Can you confirm this information is accurate?" The professor gave an imperceptible cringe at the question; a man like Lucius wouldn't present information without verifying it first. To save his dignity, he added. "And it's secure?"

"Give me some credit," Lucius replied. "My family's enterprise has its hands in very specific logistical entities. Those manifests are both accurate and discreet. I assume you want to provide those to Dumbledore?"

"Not necessarily. I'll present the information and see where he goes with it," Severus carefully answered, not wanting to show too much of his animosity towards his employer. As he went to return the parchment back to Lucius, the other wizard held up his hand refusing to take them.

"They're yours to keep," the blonde Slytherin told him. "I only ask you to treat them with as much discretion as I had obtaining them."

"Certainly," Severus nodded and stood to place them on the shelf within the same book he'd found the answers about Horcruxes. With his back still turned to Lucius he said, "Holding up my part of our agreement, I've worked it out with Albus for Draco to have a heavily warded private room off of the Slytherin common room, opposite of the other dormitories-" he turned to face his friend, "-That is, unless you have any objections."

At the professor's last meeting with the headmaster, Albus had offered any solution Severus deemed appropriate for his Slytherin. Back then he weighed the young wizard's mental health against his safety, giving the former a slightly higher priority and therefore made the decision to attach the private room to the common room as opposed to keeping it secluded as they'd done at the end of term. Until yesterday, he had doubts about that decision, however after seeing the pain in Draco's eyes after the interrogation, he knew he'd made a sound choice. The Malfoy heir needed to start getting back to some normalcy and allowing him to feel connected to his house - for better or worse - would aid in that endeavor.

"No objections, per se," said Lucius, "but I trust you'll stay abreast on the situation and, if needed, alternate arrangements will be reevaluated in an expedited manner?"

"Certainly," Severus assured him, as he sat back down onto the sofa, feeling relieved to have passed an important milestone.

The two wizards chatted for longer than Severus wanted given how exhausted he had been prior to Lucius's arrival. When he poured the two of them an unspoken and mutually agreed upon last glass of firewhiskey, they settled into a casual conversation about the renovations on the manor - and Narcissa's handling of the events overall - to Draco's future plans in healing, and Harry's latest treatments; not that Lucius would know the first thing about the chemotherapy, nevertheless he sounded appropriately intrigued to hear about the process, what happened on a cellular level, and Leukemia overall.

"I shouldn't have to relay this, but the job is yours, Severus," the blonde announced before finishing off his glass of whiskey to signal the end of their impromptu meeting, "even in a part-time capacity. I'll make whatever arrangements you need."

Severus felt a deep gratitude he never had for the other man, but he didn't get a chance to answer because the sphere - which he'd kept stored in the pocket of his trousers - heated up so quickly the former Death Eater uncharacteristically jumped from his armchair, instantly pulling out the bright red, flashing sphere.

"Severus, what is-"

Without taking the time to explain, the professor raced from the room, to the stairs - missing the creaking noise from both himself and Lucius following behind - up to Harry's bedroom. From the corridor, everything appeared calm behind the doors of both the room and the lavatory. He turned the knob to Harry's bedroom and pushed with all his might, feeling completely defeated when it didn't budge. When his brute force failed, he brandished his wand and began casting every unlocking spell he knew, then diffindo, remembering the last time this had happened. Still, the door stayed closed and no sound could be heard from within. He tried, in vain, not to panic, but unconsciously he started to shake at the thought of what could be happening on the other side of the door while he stood completely helpless.

"Will you allow me to try?" When Lucius spoke, his voice was laced with a kindness Severus had never heard from this wizard before. He didn't ask any questions or require any further information; father-to-father, he simply knew something bad had happened and his friend needed his help anyway he could.

Desperate for any way into the room, Severus stepped aside and after only two attempts at spells even the professor wasn't aware of, the door flung open and Harry's screams filled the air around them.