~~~~SS~~~~

Sunday 5th October 1997

The cinema in Guildford was easily quadruple the size of the one Severus had last stepped foot in, belonging to the town right outside of Cokeworth. While that town fared better than his own place of residence, the cinema consisted of no more than two broken screens set up in a nondescript brick building serving flat soda and stale popcorn. As early teenagers unable to see the downfall of their own stomping ground on the horizon, Severus and Lily hardly noticed it. For one, they had nothing like the building the professor currently stood before to compare it to, but mostly because after living ten months in a castle without electricity, getting to sit and be immersed in a world so different from their own - in both the muggle and the wizarding world - felt like a retreat. There were few times Severus would choose to go back to his childhood days, however those he spent with Lily and her parents were probably the only ones he'd ever consider.

Severus apparated into an alley just outside of Mae's flat and together they walked the three kilometers along the winding Riverwalk to the cinema. He couldn't have spelled a more perfect early October day, with the sun shining in the blue cloudless sky, radiating its warm rays to counter the cool, crisp breeze drifting through the air. Mae had dressed in a set of dark blue jeans paired with a navy and white striped jumper, and her hair tied back in a tidy ponytail. Somehow she managed to make the casual Sunday attire look incredibly sexy, distracting the professor more than ever. During their meandering walk along the river, she animatedly talked about her visit the previous night with her father, brother - Robert, or Bobby for short - and his wife, Lauren, where her brother and sister in law announced the upcoming news of their first child due in April. Based on the excitement in the nurse's voice about becoming an aunt, he concluded she had at least a decent relationship with her sister-in-law; having had to put her own career goals on hold to help out with her brother, it could have gone either way. Her father, though, wasn't as lucky. Once Mae finished her schooling and moved away, she resented her father for not being able to take care of his children - unable at the time to understand his grief, coupled with not being allowed to grieve herself - and it practically tore them apart. She refused to talk to him until Bobby's wedding two years ago and they had been working to repair the strained relationship since.

Inevitably, Mae asked him about his own family. Choosing not to dwell on the negativity talking about his parents usually brought - not wanting to taint their pleasant time together - he simplified the story to his parents having both died in his late teens and without any siblings, he focused on his work, at least until Harry came into the picture. Naturally, the conversation moved onto his relationship with the teen and Severus strategically chose to integrate a little of both realities into their history: Harry's parents had been murdered - refusing to minimize Lily's death to anything less significant - when Harry was only a toddler, then he went to live with his aunt and uncle who were unfortunately killed in a car accident. Harry could decide if he wanted to reveal his previous living conditions with her should he ever meet her in a casual capacity.

The prospect of meeting Mae under the title of Severus's date - Harry kept trying to use another word since he'd found out about the woman, but the professor flat out refused to allow him - came up during dinner with the Gryffindor in his new guest quarters last night. As everyone in his house appeared as well adjusted as possible yesterday morning, Severus had gone to the laboratory for the day and returned with every intention on starting the repairs to his normal quarters, however the stress over the last week, combined with his odd sleeping schedule, didn't leave him with enough energy to even attempt. Instead, at Harry's instance, the pair journeyed down to Dungeons to collect the Gryffindor's school bag, then immediately returned upstairs for their meal. When the topic moved onto Severus's plans for Sunday - specifically why he wouldn't be working on the repairs - and he explained he'd be taking Mae to the cinema, Harry couldn't let the topic go. The conversation had been light, humorous, and something that easily could have been from his old reality; as if the two of them had lived together for years instead of a single one. Ultimately, whatever had broken the dam preventing Draco and Harry's reconciliation had done wonders in healing the young wizard's internal wounds. Reminding himself not to pry into the dynamic between the previous enemies, Severus hoped going forward their mutual friendship would continue to grow and stabilize their previously turbulent lives. If Harry ever wanted to talk about what occurred between them, he knew Severus would welcome the conversation whole heartedly.

Back in the present sunny Sunday afternoon, Severus waved off Mae's praise for standing up to help with Harry. He didn't need it, nor did he want it. Having caused the child's orphaned status to begin with - then not giving enough of a damn about him to check on his well being - the last thing he deserved was praise. Picking up on his hesitation - completely oblivious as to the reason - she changed the subject to the movie they were about to see. Originally, she was supposed to have a "girl's date" with Jessica to see it, but her flatmate's schedule for the next week and half didn't seem to line up with her's and eventually Jessica recommended she go with Severus. Surprisingly, in contrast to his normal sarcastic and almost pessimistic nature - not too unlike his own, which he called realism - Mae came to the conclusion the offer had been an olive branch after their disastrous first meeting. Not wanting to see what potentially wasn't there, in his mind Severus went about still believing the other nurse distrusted him and, for lack of a better word, hated him. Her concern came from love and care for Mae, of course, but it also once again proved to Severus how he would never be free from judgement based on his Mark, even to muggles who would never understand its true meaning.

The outside of the Guildford cinema had a very modern look to match the rest of the treendy town with a white concrete exterior and a red metal awning stretching out across the wall of glass doors beckoning the patrons inside. Holding the door open for his date - a lesson learned from Lily's father rather than his own - he followed her into the large atrium, where he couldn't feel any more out of place surrounded by the lights, screens, and crowds of people. All of his senses were heightened and, for reasons he could not explain, a feeling of danger filled his stomach. He had to fight the urge to either hex every person who accidentally bumped into him in the line for their tickets, or turn around and simply leave.

"You alright?" Mae, who stood in front of him in line, turned to ask him, giving his dark green long sleeved button down shirt - where his wand currently sat - a playful slap. "You look absolutely terrified."

Frowning at her insinuation, he almost wished he brought a headache draught knowing he'd need it by the end.

"I'll be fine," he told her. Straightening his posture, he placed both of his hands on her shoulders and slowly rotated her around to face the front; conveniently leaving his hands in their place. "Crowds make me nervous."

"Interesting," she teased, flirtatiously leaning back against him, which allowed him to wrap his arm completely around her front, "I never would have guessed."

When they were next in line, Severus pointed to the open window, where he purchased their tickets, and they made their way into the lobby. Although the space was somehow louder than the atrium area, it had the benefit of a larger space to help spread out the crowd of people, allowing the professor to breathe a little easier.

Unlike every other person in the theatre, Severus had no real idea of what to expect from the film going into it. The fact couldn't be made any more obvious as they heard couples - teenagers and adults alike - animatedly debate things like the actor choices and potential plotlines, while they all made their way over to theatre number two. He let Mae choose their seats in the already over half filled room, and they ended up in the upper third, off to the right side of the row, much to Severus's delight - it made him much more comfortable knowing he could get to the aisle quickly should he need to. Though the seats felt too plush and reminded him of a seating contraption Albus would transfigure, he didn't complain; this date was for Mae - an event she'd looked forward to for weeks as she'd only told him over half a dozen times on the way over - and he'd settle for a bit of discomfort to see her smile.

Severus found himself calming as the movie started and he became wrapped up in the fictional storyline of the two main characters. Everyone in the UK - wizarding and muggle, alike - knew the story of the Titanic and the tragedy surrounding her maiden voyage to America. However, the Wizarding Community learned the events just a bit differently during History of Magic than muggle history clasys. While its sinking involved an iceberg in both instances, it didn't exactly happen as the movie - and Severus's muggle knowledge - depicted it. In the wizarding reality, the iceberg had been a well known hideout for a small community of dark wizards during the early 1900's. At the time, a recent pick up in magical activity caused the Prime Minister to release a notification to all passing vessels instructing them to steer clear of the potentially dangerous area. To this day, no one knows why the captain chose to ignore the warning, but after sailing too close, a wizard by the name of Haskell Hilganis jumped aboard the ship, commandeered it, and intentionally sunk it. According to the security wizards onboard that night, their assailant and his crew rushed straight down to the cargo hold, where they strategically collected several boxes before slicing open the hull - most likely using Diffindo - and leaving via disapparation.

The theories were vast and wide starting with the idea of the captain being under the Imperius curse making him ignore the bulletin allowing Hilganis and his crew to collect their treasure, and going as far as to say the entire scheme had been set up by the Titanic manufacturers intentionally holding the bulletin from the captain all along. Either way they never discovered what was stolen, and in addition to the muggle tragedy it brought to light the ethical question on if breaking the Statute of Secrecy should be allowed under catastrophic muggle mortal peril. Under the circumstances, the small amount of magical people did what they could to protect the muggles without any charges brought against them, but in the end, the event would forever live in both sets of history books.

Severus would be lying if he said he wasn't impressed by the cinematics used in the film. Granted it had been decades since he'd last seen one, it definitely lived up to the expectations Mae had gone to great lengths to explain to him any chance she could get. The only downfall to the afternoon, and one he could not explain to his date, was how watching the water race through the ship's corridors - damaging everything and everyone in its destructive path - followed by the people floating helplessly in the cold ocean waters hanging on for their lives, reminded him too much of the flood in the Slytherin Dungeons. With so much death, destruction, and negativity already in the world - him personally living through a lot of it - he would never understand how muggles could continue to engulf themselves in it for the pleasure of cinema entertainment. Mae clearly enjoyed the film, and therefore, by extension, Severus enjoyed the time spent with her.

"That was incredible!" The nurse declared when they finally walked out - danced out in Mae's case - of the theatre. The sun was already low in the sky preparing to set in less than an hour, painting it in stunning pink and purple streaks, and showcasing how long the film and their time indoors had been. Severus hadn't considered the change of the weather during their afternoon in the cinema, yet the cold evening air didn't seem to bother Mae as she continued to prance off down the pathway leading back to her flat. "The water looked so real! And did you see all the small details?! It was perfect!"

He chuckled at her amazement and imagined her reaction to the magical world. Someone so engrossed in the magic of film could be completely fascinated or frightened by it and if he had any intention in continuing to see her, he had to hope it would be the former. Otherwise no matter what they were starting, it would inevitably fail.

"They certainly made it look realistic," Severus commented, following his date to the Riverwalk, refusing to let his own thoughts about magic taint the rest of their date. The lights lining the bed of grass between the pavement and the waterway were already illuminated in preparation for the sun's departure and casted a soft glow to light their journey. "Films have certainly come a long way since I've last seen one."

"You're unbelievable, you know that? How long has it been since you've been to the cinema?" she shook her head, circling back casually and gently took a hold of his hand. Before he could answer her apparently rhetorical question she added, "How can you live so… isolated? That can't be good for a growing boy like Harry."

"Oh, trust me," Severus reassured her with a chuckle, "Harry makes up for it with his own adventures."

She gave a hard laugh, "Bobby was like that growing up too… always getting into something. Me? Believe it or not I was so much more subdued and quiet than I am now."

That he could believe, but he didn't dare say anything about it. For better or worse, experiencing the death of someone so close at such a young age had a way of shaping and changing people. "I still have some time until I'm needed back at the school," he changed the subject, "would you like to go for dinner?"

Mae turned her head and narrowed her dark brown eyes at him. "Jessica is working overnight at the hospital tonight," she suggestively said, "we can go back to my flat, order takeaway pizza, and open a bottle of wine."

Standing at another, albeit less important, proverbial crossroad, Severus couldn't deny how much he wanted to go with her back to her empty flat. He'd been the one to state that he still had time available for the night and all he had waiting for him at Hogwarts was repairs to his quarters. They would have to wait, however, because wherever the night could lead was guaranteed to be better than applying individual drying spells to all of his and Harry's belongings.

Giving her hand a small, but confident squeeze, he peered down at her, nodded, and said, "That sounds like a wonderful idea."

~~~~HP~~~~

To Harry, it seemed early for everything to go back to normal, but by Sunday night that's exactly how it felt as he searched the castle for his friends, knowing he'd find them in the library finishing up their homework from the long weekend spent procrastinating. Harry, himself, technically had nothing to work on - since he didn't really need to study for the upcoming tests and even if he hadn't finished his latest essays, he couldn't exactly show Hermione he'd been using his older ones. But he'd been bored out of his mind with nothing else to do in the final hour and half before curfew. First he stopped by Snape's new quarters, just in case the professor had returned from his date, only to find it completely empty. He quickly made the decision not to check their dungeon quarters after being warned multiple times that it wasn't safe to be down there alone. It had taken all of his willpower not to question why having a chaperone suddenly made it safer, and for that he prided himself. Not to mention, if the man had returned from his cinema date and had gone downstairs, he would be focused on repairing the room - something Harry still carried around an immense amount of guilt about - and he didn't exactly want to get in the middle of that.

So he walked into the library with his school books and sketch pad, just in case he could get away with not studying, practically sulking his way over to their normal table. Dudley, Dean, Ginny, Hermione, Draco, Ron, and even Lavender were all so deep into their writing or reading none of them noticed his arrival. If the courses were hard enough to have Ron and Lavender working so studiously, Harry was already dreading whenever he did end up having to take his N.E.W.T.s. Standing three meters from the table, he took a second to appreciate how large his group of friends had grown over the course of his Hogwarts career, feeling so happy he thought he could cast a Patronus regardless of his untrained magic. How did he manage to go from the boy under the cupboard without a single friend to having a whole group so close he considered them family? No matter what had happened throughout the last six years - and the one to come - Hogwarts had really been a life changing place for him and something he would forever be grateful to have been to.

Knowing full and well what a bad idea it was to sneak up on Hermione during a serious study session, Harry cleared his throat to grab their attention.

"Hey, guys," he said, feeling a little more nervous than he should have given the good weekend they had together, "mind if I join you?"

"Of course!" Hermione emphatically announced, moving the books and parchment covering the empty space beside her over.

"Thanks," he awkwardly said, sitting down next to her at the end of the table, and pulling out his second year Charms text. His class had a test coming up on the freezing charm and while he had no doubt he could pass the test - making a note to himself to check with Snape or McGonagall if he were actually getting graded this year - he would feel uncomfortable sketching while his friends were studying so intensely.

"How's Severus's quarters coming along?" Draco leaned behind Hermione to ask him several minutes later. "Is he making any progress?"

Harry gave a soft chuckle. "I don't think so. He took me down there last night to grab my stuff-" he placed his hand over the canvas bag to make a point, "- but nothing looked touched yet. Unless he went back after dinner, I don't think he's even started."

"He can't be expected to do all the repairs alone, can he?" The question came from Ginny across the table from him.

Harry shrugged his shoulders, "I dunno if it's what's expected or if that's just what he wants."

Dean spoke up, adding, "I imagine someone like Professor Snape doesn't exactly want just anyone looking through his stuff. Who knows what they'd find down there."

"It's not that bad. He keeps the questionable stuff out of reach, but I'm sure it's something like that, " Harry answered, thinking back on the Dark Arts book he added to the shelf moments before the flood. Then to Draco he asked, "How are the Slytherin rooms coming along?"

"Just dandy," Draco sarcastically replied. "In fact, I wish they'd move a bit slower, if you want to know the truth."

Hermione flushed and gave his upper arm a hard smack. Harry knew the Malfoy heir had his own room somewhere off the corridor outside of the Great Hall, but he didn't need to know if the blonde spent his nights there or not. Last night, Harry could tell Snape had been fishing for information on how he'd made amends with Draco when the professor had given more information about the repairs on the Slytherin Dungeon - also explaining how they'd separated Draco from the other Slytherins - than he probably should have. Harry stayed quiet, wondering if Snape would eventually come out and ask the question, and took in as much as he could about the situation, never knowing when it would be useful.

"Since we're not studying," Lavender took control of the conversation and slammed her Herbology book closed so hard it echoed across the shelves around them, "let's talk about something more important-"

"Like Quidditch trials next weekend?" Ron suggested, excitedly.

"No, Won-Won," she giggled, causing her boyfriend's face to flush beet red, "the first Hogsmeade weekend at the end of the month!"

Shhhh! Came from the table directly behind theirs.

"Glad to know your shopping and butterbeer habits are more important than my housemates' potential murders," Draco admonished, to which Harry actually agreed.

"Someone's being a little dramatic, doncha think?"

Draco rolled his eyes and went back to whatever assignment he'd been working on.

"Anyway," Lavender ignored all the wizards' - minus Ron's, of course - blank expressions as she dramatically spoke, "it's scheduled before the Halloween feast-" she shook her hands by her face as she squealed, "-and we should do something good to commemorate the event. Plus it's our last first Hogsmeade weekend.. ever "

"Like what?" Ginny asked, also closing her book deeming study time over. "I'll still be here next year, but could use a distraction from this awful Transfiguration essay."

Physically excited to have someone in on this crazy idea with her, the two of them started chatting about things they could all do as a group besides toasting at the Three Broomsticks.

"Oh, I have the perfect idea!" Lavender jumped as an idea popped into her head so fast Harry was surprised she didn't hurt herself. He hadn't been the only one to think this because Hermione shook her head and Draco looked over at Harry with a smirk. "We can have a seance… at the shrieking shack?"

"No," Harry immediately stated a little too loudly, earning him a cross look from those around them. "Have the seance, but we're not going to the shrieking shack."

The sadness from Hermione's eyes would be lost on everyone at the table besides Harry and Ron. Harry couldn't be sure what the rest of the school knew about the incident between them with Sirius and Remus in the broken down building - he could have sworn he heard Hermione whisper it's a long story, though he didn't know to whom - and he wasn't about to get into it in the middle of the library.

"I don't think I ask for a lot, guys," he said in a much calmer voice, "but I'm not going to the Shrieking Shack. You can go without me."

"Is someone scare-" Lavender started, but Ron almost violently elbowed her with a dangerously mumbled "drop it" under his breath.

The air surrounding their table became heavy. For Harry it was filled with the memories of Sirius. Most days he found the grief over Sirius's death had become manageable, and as with so many of the other things in his life - being orphaned, growing up in an abusive family, and being targeted by Voldemort - he could finally start to process those and really heal from them. There were wounds closer to the surface though - like Malfoy Manor and Draco, his magic, and cancer - which still stung, but even those weren't nearly as debilitating any longer. Every so often, however, something was said or done that pulled one of those painful memories to the surface and being caught off guard pushed back some of his progress.

"You alright, Harry?" Ron asked, and Harry hadn't realized his best friend had moved until he now sat directly across from him. "We'll find something else to do. It's not a problem."

"Thanks," Harry nodded his head rapidly, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the table.

"So, Ron," Dean was the first to speak up, "do you have any idea who'll be selecting for the team this year?"

Ron gave a sideways glance at Draco across the table, deciding if any information he would give could be used against the team. Harry only picked up on bits and pieces of their conversation as Ron walked the table through having to decide between a the short term game - and a potential win in his final year - or the long term play - getting some of the more prospective rookies the experience to flourish in the next year or two. As a strategist, the red headed wizard liked to think three or five steps ahead, but he had a difficult time putting today's winnings in jeopardy for the prospect of tomorrow.

"Harry," Ron took a breath from discussing his year long strategy with Dean to ask, "What'd you think of the prospects on Friday?"

Without thinking about it, Harry also gave a glare over towards Draco. He didn't know where the blonde sat in his own house, but as a Slytherin, he didn't expect the other wizard to hold back any information gathered which could give them any kind of assistance on the pitch. Had he been in Hufflepuff, the thought may not have crossed his mind so boldly.

"I think we all know Ginny's still the best option for Seeker," he told his friend, confidently. "And honestly, Codde showed some promise as Chaser, but obviously his attitude lately would be a bit difficult to manage. Beyond that, I was a little distracted on Friday."

"Yeah, I guess you were, huh," Ron chuckled. "And I don't care if Codde got picked up by the Tornadoes tomorrow, I'd have a hard time putting him on the team after everything he said."

"You'd do it though," Harry challenged back. "And the team might be better for it, so long as he can keep his priorities straight with his team."

"I guess," Ron unhappily conceded. His blue eyes went wide as he remembered to ask, "Hey! Any luck getting Snape to move your appointment on Saturday so you can at least be there?"

"Not going to happen," Harry sadly shook his head, remembering the argument they'd gotten into over dinner last night. "He told me Quidditch is not even in the realm of being as important as my health or my classes. His words."

"But it's only one day," Ron whined. "And it's our last year. What a git!"

"Guess we match now, Potter," Draco sarcastically said. "At least it's Quidditch that's more important than your life instead of Hogsmeade."

"I didn't mean it like that, Malfoy, and you know it," Ron practically spat back at the Slytherin. "I just don't see why you can't move it one day back. Hell, even moving it early would be better because you're pretty much fine the next day."

Harry disagreed, but didn't want to get into his level of pain, fatigue, and vomiting after chemo, especially because he was nervous about how his magical core would handle this round now that he cut out his extra class. If removing Transfiguration did work, then he'd just have the normal pain, but if it didn't… well, at least Healer Smithe would be setting him up with the IV of pain medication to help make it manageable.

Rather than tell any of that to Ron, though, Harry simply stated, "Even if I could change it to Friday, or Thursday night, that would still leave both me and Severus missing classes for a whole day. He won't go for it. I'm just not going to be there."

"But-"

"Ronald!" Hermione curtly said through her clenched jaw.

Another awkward silence fell over the set of students, and when it became too much for Harry to handle, he swiftly started packing up his books into his school bag.

"I think I'm gonna head back to the Common Room," he said, hating how the wavering of his voice gave away how much he hated having to miss something like Quidditch. Last year he'd even been able to go. Granted he ended up in the hospital wing, but he'd gotten to see - and more importantly experience - some of it.

"You don't have to go-"

Hermione tried to stop him by placing her hand on his arm when he stood, but Harry cut her off by lamely pulling his arm out from under hers and held up his watch, "I have to go take medicine anyways. I'll see you guys later."

The dark, quiet atmosphere of the library, with its towering bookcases and shadowed walls, never felt more suffocating to him. And considering all the times he'd spent researching questionable things - the Philosopher's Stone, Polyjuice Potion, and a way to breathe underwater to name a few - over the years, it was an impressive feat to now feel so uncomfortable. Later, he'd say the only reason Draco had been able to sneak up on him right as he reached the doors was from being so distracted in his thoughts. It wouldn't technically be a lie, nevertheless he should have been more aware of his surroundings.

"Harry," Draco quietly called, pulling the Gryffindor's shoulder around, causing Harry to drop his bag in the haste to meet his potential attacker. "What the hell?" Draco's reflexes kicked in and he took two swift steps back to get out of Harry's arm's reach, "it's me, you prat!"

Harry blinked rapidly, clearing his vision and the cobwebs from his mind. His eyes widened as he realized what just happened, "m'so sorry, Draco. I was… it doesn't matter. What's going on?"

Harry looked over the other teen's shoulder to see if he drew the short straw to check in on him. Much to his surprise, though, their friends hardly seemed to notice the blonde's departure. Where he expected them to be looking closely and watching for his reaction, everyone but Hermione was cleaning up their own study space by throwing books, quills, and parchment almost haphazardly into their bags. Harry picked up his own from the floor, and making eye contact with Draco, he raised his eyebrows beckoning the other wizard to continue whatever he'd come for.

"I may have some… information… on that document you showed me last week," Draco whispered so softly Harry had to strain his ears to hear it. "C'mon," Draco bellowed at Harry's confused face, "the one you found in Slughorn's class?"

Harry nodded. Based on the emphasis Draco put on their Potions Professor's name, it couldn't be clearer he didn't believe Harry's original reasoning for having the document.

"So what about it?" asked Harry, nervously shifting his weight, both intrigued to know and wanting to avoid it at the same time.

"If I were you," Draco furrowed his blonde brows as he spoke, "I'd stay as far away from it as possible."

"Why's that?" Harry naturally asked. The conviction in Draco's voice told him he should take it seriously, but then he had to know what Snape was getting himself into. What could the professor be involved in that was so bad? A lot, Harry knew.

"The word Hermione didn't know… Guigne de la Côte," Draco lowered his voice as he said it in perfect French, with a perfect French accent, "it stands for Belladonna-" that word Harry certainly recognized, "-and if Professor Slughorn were bringing it in legally, that shipping document would have used Atropa belladonna, the scientific name, instead of that obscure French version. Nothing good can from whatever it is you're poking your head around, and based on your Potions and Herbology experience, I can guarantee you're way over your head on this."

Harry audibly gulped at the pointed warning, suddenly remembering Snape, too, spoke perfect French.

"Thanks," the Gryffindor responded, grateful to be able to arrange his thoughts enough to speak clearly, "I'll keep that in mind."

"I'm serious," Draco exclaimed when Harry turned to leave. Pausing and looking back, the Slytherin disappointedly shook his head, "for once, Potter, keep yourself out of trouble."

Harry couldn't hold back the smirk, "I'll try to remember that, Malfoy. But… y'know trouble just has a way of finding me sometimes."

Tuesday 7th, October 1997

Based on the Slytherin table in the Great Hall on Tuesday, all of the Slytherin students had made it back in one piece and by lunchtime the rumor around the castle was they'd be back in their dorms that night. Outside of the stray auror - not hesitating to pull a student out of classes for questioning, Harry included on one occasion to pull his memory of the rescue - or a repair wizard here or there, things had pretty much gotten back to normal; or as normal as they could get when there's talk about an entire house of students almost being killed.

For Harry though, his focus changed slightly as the conversation with Draco began to weigh heavily on his mind. Belladonna. Obviously, he knew the word from Potions class - they had Essence of Belladonna in their Potions making kits - but he couldn't remember what they'd used this weaker version for and more importantly, what Snape planned to do with the full potency, extremely dangerous, poisonous plant. It was the last thought which once again caused Harry to sit up in his bed until the early dawn hours trying to sort through the information he knew while he watched on the Marauder's Map all of the Slytherins fast asleep in the Great Hall for the last night except for one who had visited his girlfriend's private room again. Sitting up in the middle of the night obsessing over how Draco had managed to move around the castle undetected every night - a move which used to belong solely to him - hurt his head far less, and ultimately caused him less worry, than trying to think about what Snape could be doing with Belladonna or what would happen to the professor if he got caught with it. What was the legality of only possessing the plant versus using it in a Potion or for… no, his brain refused to go there. In another day and time, he would have immediately thought the former spy was trying to kill someone, but now he was just confused over it all.

Harry had double potions with the sixth years - one of his only two classes which matched his actual education level - to end his day. He liked Professor Slughorn well enough - although the professor occasionally gave Harry a creepy feeling when he went on and on about his collections - even after the man's negligence last year caused the Gryffindor a stay in the hospital wing, and for the first time ever, Harry had started off the first term doing genuinely well in the class. His success from Snape's book or memory from the first time around gave Harry his pick of partners for most of their more complicated brews, and Ginny every single time because the last thing he needed in his life was someone new to deal with.

Today they were working on Polyjuice Potion, a brew Harry had too much history with even if he had never actually brewed it himself, and therefore had nothing extra to bring to the cauldron. To make matters worse, after staying up for the second night in a row, combined with the general fatigue from his medication, the young wizard had very little hope for staying awake. In hindsight, he probably should have skived off the class altogether for the safety of those around him.

"arry…" he heard his name called, only it sounded muffled and far away, like someone was calling him from underwater. "Harry, wake up!"

A sharp pain radiated from his side, causing him to sit straight up, now fully aware that he'd not only fallen asleep waiting for their potion to boil, but of the entire class and Slughorn watching him. The professor stood at the front of the classroom, his arched eyebrows up, holding up a folded piece of parchment into the air.

"Erm," Harry nervously said, "sorry, sir. What did you ask?"

"It's quite alright, Mr Potter," Slughorn told him, and Harry wondered if he'd give anyone else the same flexibility or if he'd been told to expect the young wizard to have some complications during class. He didn't really know this professor well enough, only that he didn't seem like the kind to publicly shame someone like Snape. "A missive has arrived at my desk for you."

Harry felt his ears flush. Being called out for sleeping in class not due to missing the lesson, but for something else entirely made the situation feel worse. He slowly walked up to the front of the classroom, where he collected the parchment and made his way back to his desk. Slughorn's voice rang in the back of his mind - the professor going over the next steps to their brew - while he read through the message he immediately knew was from Snape based on the distinctive handwriting; that same writing located throughout his textbook for his current class.

Harry,

Due to a scheduling conflict, your appointment with Dr Snyder has been moved to tomorrow and Healer Smithe to this afternoon. Please report to your magical testing directly after Potions class rather than my office.

S.S.

Harry scrunched his eyebrows as he read through the missive a second, then a third time. The week before chemotherapy was always busy: an appointment with Dr Snyder on Tuesdays - one he hoped he'd be able to stop soon -, magical testing Thursdays, and chemo on Saturday. Adding in his normal classes, running with Dudley, and now his research on Belladonna, it made for an exhausting schedule. The actual order of his appointments didn't exactly matter to Harry, but he didn't like when they had to change so suddenly.

"Everything alright?" Ginny asked him, effortlessly cutting up her boomslang skin. Harry still had to be careful when handling his potions knife and in his current state he'd asked Ginny if she could do the cutting. Another reason he always partnered with her: she wouldn't ask questions over such a request.

"Yeah," he yawned, "just a change to my schedule this afternoon Severus wanted to tell me about."

"How's everything going with him?" She casually asked. "Seems to be really helping you out. Honestly, I don't think mum and dad could have managed all the muggle things, no matter how much dad would like to try."

The extra information about her parents secretly told Harry she didn't buy into the rumors regarding him and the professor. He sighed, relieved to have another person on his side. Until the gossip ran its course, he needed as many people by him as possible.

"Since your dad once asked me about a rubber duck, I think it's safe to say he'd be a bit over his head with all my medications and appointments," Harry laughed at the memory of his first time meeting Mr Weasley. "But things with Severus have been good. Honestly, I don't know what I'd do without him."

Harry raced through the corridors trying to get from the Dungeons to the Room of Requirement on the seventh floor as quickly as possible. Slughorn had kept him after class to assign a detention - to be served Friday night - for falling asleep in class. No matter how much the Gryffindor wanted to be angry with the Potions Master, if for no other reason than to utilize that energy into running faster, he couldn't live with Snape for a year and not pick up a lesson or two on the safety needed during the brewing process. Unfortunately, his sleepy state could have put him, Ginny, and his classmates in danger, so he wouldn't complain about spending his last night before this month's treatment in the dungeons probably cleaning a week's worth of first years' disgusting cauldrons.

"You're late," Snape's voice behind him caused Harry to jump. In his hurried state, he must have passed the professor without even realizing it.

"Sorry, sir," Harry apologized for the second time in as many hours, "Slughorn kept me after class." Snape's single raised eyebrow told Harry he better continue with his explanation. "I have to serve detention on Friday night."

"And for what, may I ask, did you do to deserve this detection?"

"Erm," Harry stalled, knowing he couldn't tell Snape he'd fallen asleep in the middle of class. The man would extrapolate it into places Harry didn't want to go, and he couldn't really say he'd been up most of the night wondering what the professor needed with full strength Belladonna. Thinking quickly under Snape's scrutiny, he lied, "I wasn't paying attention and almost missed the beginning of step three. Ginny and I were talking."

"And I take it Miss Weasley will also be serving detention?" The question seemed odd coming from the professor who blatantly gave out one sided punishments, but to Harry it told him Snape didn't believe his story in the first place. Still, Harry nodded, not trusting his voice to be steady enough to sound truthful, so they could move onto his magical testing. Narrow black eyes stared straight into his own, drawing Harry's attention to their similar heights. Seemingly satisfied, Snape held his arm out to the door and asked, "Shall we head in?"

This week's magical testing was Harry's favorite by far. They ran through all of the normal charms - summoning, levitation, Lumos and Incendio - and when he could cast those perfectly he had finally been approved to work on defensive spells such as Immobulus, Expelliarmus, and Rictusempra. At first he'd only been allowed to go against the dummies, but when he demonstrated his abilities, he asked - or more accurately, begged - to duel against Snape. The professor had gone easy on him, and although Harry was proud of himself for not getting tired as quickly as he had last year - likely due to him actually exercising - by the end he had a thick layer of sweat coating his body and stood with his hands on his knees, straining to breathe as if he'd run a marathon. It felt good though. For as careful as he'd had to be with his body and magic, to be told not to limit himself filled him with hope.

"Are you alright?" Snape asked, approaching the Gryffindor still attempting to catch his breath.

"Brilliant!" Harry huffed, his face breaking out in a large smile. Finally able to stand, he added, "I forgot how good it feels to duel. And my magic… I think it's stronger, if that makes sense."

"It should," Healer Smithe broke in from near the table, still waving his wand in different directions as he measured Harry's magical levels. When they first started this at the end of August, he'd been nervous about the aggressive wand waving during his spell work, but now it was normal and Harry didn't even blink as they passed over him. "Remember, you're doing all of this because you have access to a part of your core you hadn't had access to originally in these classes. A significant amount, I might add. If I had to venture a guess, I'd say what you have now is bigger than what you lost in March and assuming we can keep it under control, you'll still live comfortably in the magical world."

Harry grinned, wiping the sweat from his forehead before it could fall into his eyes, not caring how goofy he may have looked in the process.

"How are his measurements today?" asked Snape, barely winded after their sparing, of course he mostly defended, not unlike the time the professor let Harry battle him to blow off steam last January. He almost laughed remembering McGonagall's face when she saw the pair of them and the lecture Snape received for it.

Harry would look back and be embarrassed that he missed the small wince in Healer Smithe's cheeks as he looked over the charts he filled in each week. Being a former spy and used to picking up on the small idiocracies in others, Snape hadn't, and it was the small panicked tone Harry heard in the professor's question that put him on edge.

"Is something wrong?" Harry walked over to the other two wizards at the table. The chart laid open still recording the Gryffindor's readings was completely foreign to him, and therefore Harry didn't even attempt to read it as Snape was doing.

"Not necessarily," the healer sighed. "Your levels stayed relatively the same this week, which on average isn't bad, but if they plateau now, I'm afraid it won't be not enough for long term success."

"So… what does that mean?"

"It means that if your magic stays where it's at now," Healer Smithe softly explained, "I would anticipate your accidental magic to come back. Now whether it would negatively or positively affect you? I can't say for sure, but it's not worth the risk to your safety."

"So what do I do?" Harry posed the question to his Healer, but his eyes never left Snape who silently flipped through the charts and graphs from each week's session.

Throwing him off the doom and gloom train, Healer Smithe smiled, as he suggested, "I think it's time to move you up a level."

"Are you serious?" Harry almost choked on his words saying them so quickly. "It's barely been six weeks. How can I be ready to move up?!"

"Because your magic already knows what to do," Snape answered, relief pouring from his voice. The professor turned to Healer Smithe and said, "Let's get him through next week, after chemotherapy, then we'll adjust his schedule. That will give Minerva and I time to make the necessary arrangements."

Harry was beaming. Moving up in Charms and Defense would mean he no longer had any classes with the second years - eliminating the younger Nott - and although his class with Ackerly would only change from Defense to Charms, it meant there was hope that by the end of term he'd be able to put the Ravenclaw completely behind him.

"So why did we have to change the schedule tonight?" Harry asked Snape as the two of them made their way to the professor's quarters for dinner together; his session having gone past the dinner hour yet again. The fact that they were walking to his guest quarters didn't go unnoticed by the young wizard, meaning the repairs to their home hadn't been completed yet. Selfishly, he really hoped they would be done by Saturday because the guest quarters didn't have a room for him, and he didn't particularly want to be laying sick on the sofa after chemo. Since he knew Snape was doing most the renovations himself, Harry didn't want to ask if they'd be done in time, and offering to help would only get him lectured.

"When Alton expressed his plans to have you push yourself this week," Snape began as if they were talking about the latest potions journal, "we decided by doing it earlier, it would give your core more time to replenish prior to chemotherapy, where it will be strained again."

Harry shuttered remembering the magical core pain. "Thank you," he peered over at the man walking beside him, "I know I say that a lot, but I really do appreciate the little things like this."

Predictably, Snape told him he didn't need the gratitude, but Harry didn't care. He'd never had anyone look out for his best interest and he wanted to make sure it didn't go unappreciated.

As they walked side by side chatting about the results from his test - Snape seemingly not nearly as excited as Harry over them - the young wizard's mind drifted back to the shipping document. Maybe there was another explanation for why Snape had it in a book about the Darkest of Arts? His first hypothesis had naturally been for his work at the lab, but the dates didn't match up. Snape only started the first weekend of term and the date on the document showed the shipment moved this past June. Not to mention, he didn't have to ask Draco to know any of the ingredients needed for the lab would be provided there, and he doubted Belladonna - a known poison - would be used in any healing potion.

But isn't my chemotherapy kind of considered a poison? Harry thought to himself, mindlessly following Snape around the last turn of the corridor leading to his temporary quarters. Maybe he had been thinking about this the wrong way? The Gryffindor could admit, in hindsight, that he hadn't been in the clearest mindset over the summer and Snape had spent a lot of time in the cellar where his personal potions lab was located; the only room in the small house Harry hadn't even seen. Could the professor have been working on something for a personal project or a privately paid work? His logic led him into more questions than answers and ended up at the only one that mattered: could Belladonna be used for anything positive? Finding that answer was definitely a good place to start.

"You're deep in thought," Snape pointed out as he held the door open to his quarters for Harry to enter.

"No, I'm not," Harry defended himself.

He'd only been in the set of rooms twice, and he already felt comfortable in the neutral beige painted stone place. The layout was similar to Snape's and McGonagall's main quarters with a sitting room, lavatory, and bedroom, but lacked the second bedroom, office, and kitchen; meaning they couldn't cook any meals and had to take them in the sitting room. Harry dropped himself onto the less comfortable sofa.

"Then surely you heard me tell you all of the answers to this Friday's pop quiz?"

"Erm… we have a quiz on Friday?" Harry kicked himself for not paying closer attention.

"No," Snape smirked, gesturing to the plate of food on the table for the young wizard to start eating, "it's tomorrow."

"Well, shite." Harry laughed.

"Watch your language," Snape admonished, then asked, "so what were you thinking so intently over?"

Again, Harry knew he couldn't tell the man the truth and guilt radiated throughout his body over it. This one, though, he didn't feel as bad not sharing. After all, he didn't have to tell Snape everything going on through his mind.

Feigning embarrassment over the pretend topic he'd come up with, Harry averted his eyes down to his food and quietly replied, "I was debating on if I should ask you how your date went on Sunday. I stopped by pretty late, but you weren't back yet."

A pregnant pause fell between them. Finishing his bite, Snape broke the silence first, "And your conclusion from this internal debate?"

The Gryffindor's cheeks turned red, "Well... how was it?"

Snape gave a small smirk, the edges of his lips curling in his self-satisfaction over his upcoming answer, "That's none of your business."

"Oh, I see," Harry laughed, and then without missing a beat, he said, "It was that good, wasn't it?"