~~~~SS~~~~

Wednesday 8th, October 1997

Dinner with Harry the previous night - after the Gryffindor's questionable magical testing - had been enlightening. Without really having to say a word, Severus learned two very important things from the young wizard: his mind was contemplating something bigger than Severus's relationship with Mae and Harry didn't foresee the danger with his magical outputs plateauing. His own natural skepticism, however, made it difficult to accept Alton's results at face value, even if in theory they made sense. Harry's magic needed to be organized to curb his magic's output typically seen in the form of Accidental Magic, and it had to be done at a faster pace than usual. So while they didn't know if pushing the magic up a level would work to bring the accidental magic levels down further, he could convince himself, at least in the short term, to give it a try. Should the results not continue to improve next week, they'd need to think of other options quickly.

Those were the thoughts racing through the professor's mind as he attempted to sleep in his temporary quarters for the last night. As of Wednesday morning, all of his Slytherins were accounted for in the castle and they had slept safely back in their dormitories. The Common Room would remain off limits until Friday night, when Lucius's crew predicted they'd be completed with the work once the aurors wrapped up their investigation tomorrow morning. In the meantime, Lucius offered his crew to assist with Severus's repairs, to which the professor finally agreed because he had to admit there was no way he'd get them done by himself in time for Harry's chemotherapy on Saturday. Torn between allowing unknown wizards into his home unaccompanied or having Harry lay on the sofa in his guest quarters ill, he set up some heavy privacy and alarming wards on the more private parts of his quarters and humbly thanked Lucius for the assistance. By the end of the day, a whole week after the flood, he'd be back in his home and Harry would have a place he could be comfortable after chemotherapy; an event which never got any easier, no matter how many times they went through it.

"Who can tell me about a draugr?" Severus asked the silent students in front of him, officially kicking off the start of his class and hoping against all odds he could keep away the post-lunch drowsiness at bay.

Severus would never freely admit that his favorite class was this year's seventh year Defense class. It could have been that this group of students were uniquely involved with Harry and his connection to Voldemort in the past, or perhaps being in the same year as Harry when he taught his clandestine defense group had inspired them in the subject, but regardless of the reason, he found them to be more engaged and focused than any of his other classes; including his former Potions course. They seemed to have a true understanding that the things he taught had real meaning, and they were determined to know everything they could about the dark creatures and counter curses before heading out into the real world as newly minted adult witches and wizards. Their energy alone almost made his teaching career feel rewarding. Almost. Today, those attributes would be challenged because missing class on Friday put him behind schedule, meaning the lecture on this Nordic dark creature would now fall directly after their lunch period.

Severus dramatically turned and wrote the word D-R-A-U-G-R on the chalkboard while he'd asked the question, not at all surprised when he faced the class again and only Hermione's hand stood straight up into the air. For once, he'd be rejoiced to see someone else showing they'd read ahead - or in this case behind as this material should have been covered last week - in their books instead of waiting for him to go through the lecture first.

"Mr Malfoy," he called on the only other student he knew would have the answer. This year, Draco had been more withdrawn in class overall than usual, no longer raising his hand or volunteering to demonstrate their latest spell work, and though Severus respected his reasoning, he also tried to help pull him out of his own imprisonment. "Care to take an attempt at a guess?"

"Not particularly," the blonde Slytherin replied, causing a series of chuckles to wave across the other students.

"Pardon me," Severus sarcastically stated, "you made it sound as if it were a request. Let me clarify it for Mr Malfoy: tell me what you know about a draugr."

"They're found in Denmark," Draco answered, arrogantly.

"As well as Norway, Iceland, and parts of Sweden," Severus corrected to Draco, then continued to address the rest of the class. "By definition, the draugr is an undead creature from Norse mythology. The original Norse meaning of the word is ghost, however they are not like the ghosts you see here around the castle, as they have a corporeal body. Can anyone tell me where one would find a draugr?"

Once again, only Hermione's hand raised impatiently into the air.

"Alright, Miss Granger," Severus sighed, "please explain to the class what I mistakenly hoped they would have all read over the long weekend."

The Gryffindor witch sat up proudly, trying to keep the smile from her face, "A draugr typically lives within their graves, often guarding treasure buried within, however they have been known to leave the grave to torment living beings, especially those who have wronged them in life. They also often have superhuman strength, can change their size and weight at will, and some even possess the ability to shape-shift, making them a formidable opponent that even magic can't easily surpass."

"Thank you, Miss Granger," Severus said, writing down her statements on the board for the others to note their importance. He summoned over several pictures of the beasts from his desk, enlarged them, and using a sticking charm, attached them beside the notes.

"If magic doesn't work, how do you win against one?" The very logical question came from Anthony Goldstein.

Severus turned around and, with his hands clasped behind, very casually explained, "The preferred method is to cut off the draugr's head, burn the body, and dump the ashes in the sea. Now there is debate among the wizarding community regarding if magical methods may be used for those steps, but the details still remain in question.

"Though typically known to terrorize its victims in the nighttime hours, the draugr is not limited by the daylight…"

Severus continued his lecture randomly calling on students to try and keep them as involved in the subject matter as possible. He started with helping them to identify a draugr's presence - by a great light that glowed from the grave like "fox-fire" which would form a barrier between the land of the living and the land of the dead - and how an encounter with one would almost always lead to death.

For probably the first time ever, Severus paused his lecture when Ron Weasley's hand rose into the air.

"Yes, Mr Weasley?"

"Erm," the redhead stalled, "how're they any different than the inferi we learned about last year?" The reference to their previous course surprised Severus as much as the correlation in the first place. "Aren't they both 'undead'?"

"That is correct," the professor told him, and Ron's astonishment in his own abilities made Severus shake his head. "Inferi are bodies forcibly brought back for another wizard's bidding, where as a draugr is created more naturally. While someone cannot necessarily choose to become one, there are certain traits which lend themselves towards a person to cross that line. For example, during their time alive, a person filled with greed and selfishness might find their souls not wanting to move on into the afterlife-"

"So we shouldn't be surprised to see Daddy Malfoy become one someday?" Pansy Parkinson interrupted.

In response, Hermione shot the other witch a scowl, while Draco didn't even flinch. Severus chose not to validate the comment with a response either way, instead walking them through the possible signs a recently deceased individual could become one - such as the body being found vertically rather than horizontally - and then the ways one could try to prevent a draugr from the deceased such as burying the body with iron scissors and tying the large toes together. He ended the lecture by stating that while extremely dangerous, most of these creatures choosing to stay by their tombs to guard their riches, the draugr also expressed an innate jealousy of the living, stemming from a longing for the things of the life it once had and such motivation could trigger an attack on nearby villages.

"Like the jinn, right?" Blaise Zabini asked, when the professor paused his lecture. "Doesn't it attack because it's jealous of our world?"

Severus stood before the class, every set of eyes trained on him. Jinns were dark creatures found in Islamic lore, and as such were not part of the European Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum. Given Hala Khatib's unique presence at Hogwarts, he'd considered adding a small section on the creatures, but ultimately chose not to draw attention to her situation. Given the pointed question and Severus's innate need for information - especially in the Dark Arts - pushed him into answering.

"They are similar, yes," he told the students honestly. "Jinn are found in Islamic countries, as opposed to Nordic, and therefore typically not a dark creature we study."

"But you know about them, don't you?" Draco challenged him. "So you can teach us."

The clock on the wall showed they still had a quarter hour left of their class, not enough time to get into a full description of the creatures, but enough to give them some kind of understanding of what their classmate went through. Severus found himself wondering how Harry felt sitting in class when he first learned about the Killing Curse - inappropriately in his fourth year - thinking about his parents' last breaths, and the professor would never be able to forget Neville's face when he taught about the Cruciatus Curse last year.

"I do," Severus admitted. Giving a hard sigh, he waved his wand across the board to clear it and wrote J-I-N-N in large letters, deciding to jump right in. "The jinn originates before 7th century Islam and thought to transcend the boundaries of the physical world, they are said to be made of "smokeless fire". As spiritual entities, the jinn are considered dual dimensional with the ability to live and operate in both manifest and invisible domains. And similar to the draugr, thought to be amorphous, therefore capable of shape-shifting into human or animal form."

"And they're hostile?" Dean Thomas asked, but not in a scared way, in a very scholarly way of someone seeking knowledge.

"Most of them are hostile, or at least not all that friendly to humans," he walked through the rows of desks as he spoke, "although some can be friendly and helpful. It is possible for magicians or wise men and women to gain power over a jinn and use it to perform amazing and magical tasks. Be wary, for even a friendly Jinn is unpredictable and certainly anyone who breaks an agreement with a jinn will strongly regret it. Oftentimes, they take pleasure in punishing people for wronging them, even if it were done unintentionally."

"Like the goblins?" Parvati questioned.

"Not too unlike making deals with goblins," Severus answered, "though while dealing with goblins should be done with caution, rarely will you pay with your life or the life of those you care about. A jinn will not hesitate to kill everyone in its path."

"Except for Khatib." A heavy silence fell over the classroom at Terry Boot's honest statement.

"Yes," Severus replied, holding himself together trying not to think about Harry and his parallel to Hala, or her warning about him not skipping this month's chemotherapy, "occasionally there are exceptions we don't understand."

Thankfully, the bell rang before any other questions could be asked. He assigned them all two rolls of parchment outlining the characteristics on the draugr - with emphasis on what to do if they were to encounter one - and reminded them of their next duels on Friday afternoon's class.

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry sat on the soft blue sofa in Dr Snyder's office with his hands clenched between his closed knees; a position making him feel more guarded even though he'd been in the office with the muggle man several times already. The room was painted a soft buttery yellow with vertical dark blue pinstripes in an alternating pattern of one thick stripe followed by two thin ones, then repeating. If it were meant to be calming, Harry thought they'd missed the mark because the lines made him feel trapped, reminding him of the bars on his window back at Privet Drive. So rather than look at the room around him, Harry focused his attention to the doctor in the equally blue armchair across from him. The muggle had a full head of cleanly cut short grey hair in a length rarely seen in the wizarding world, brown eyes lined with his age, which somehow fit his patient personality perfectly. Harry learned early on the muggle mind doctor would simply sit there and watch the young wizard for the full hour if Harry didn't feel like talking. It was good to have that choice - or the power, rather - but since Harry had asked to see Dr Snyder in the first place, and he really did want to talk about everything on his mind - even if it made him feel like Lavender by the end - he never exercised that right.

Harry liked Dr Snyder, and ultimately enjoyed the time carved out of his schedule to meet with him. Similar to how Dr Swanson kept his blood healthy and Healer Smithe kept his magic growing, Dr Snyder helped his mind stay healthy. Typically they talked about his diagnosis, living with cancer - and managing its side effects - and ways to handle his anxiety surrounding it all, but occasionally they also went over things like how he felt being behind in school, his goals for five years from now, and his relationships with the people around him; usually Snape, however they touched on his friends, Dudley, and even Draco. Harry quickly found that while his original reasoning for coming to Dr Snyder had been to learn to accept this last stage of his chemotherapy, the other topics they covered almost had a bigger impact on his mind than he originally anticipated, and it just so happened this last topic was where Harry and his muggle psychologist wandered into during the second half of their one hour appointment.

"Let's talk about your community," Dr Snyder transitioned, folding his left leg over his right knee in a move Harry had seen Snape often do. It usually meant the professor had a difficult topic to cover, so Harry braced himself.

"Erm…" the teen nervously fidgeted on the sofa, "do you mean like at my school?"

"That's certainly one type of community," Dr Snyder said in a way that didn't tell Harry if it was the answer he wanted to hear or not. "Tell me about your friends. You're certainly lucky to have the opportunity to move back into your boarding school."

Harry closed his eyes and thought hard about this year, specifically how amazing it'd been to be with his friends again. He took himself back to laughing in their dorm before bed, Wizarding Chess in the common room, studying in the library, and watching his team fly around the Quidditch pitch. He allowed all of those memories to fill him up inside, and when he opened his eyes, he immediately started in on explaining how well things at school had been going being surrounded by his first family. Unable to tell the muggle about the magical details, he did his best to fill in as much as he could by changing Quidditch to Football, dropping the Wizarding element from their Chess, and the rest he let flow using what he thought could be muggle equivalent names for his classes. Obviously this would be easier to talk about if he'd been seeing the squib doctor, but growing up in the muggle world allowed him to handle the complicated conversation with ease, and with each example of how well adjusted he'd become at school, Harry's voice relaxed and his smile grew.

"All of this sounds wonderful," Dr Snyder chuckled after Harry's story of how Dean came out of the showers one day with teal hair thanks to a well placed prank from Seamus, " but do your roommates and friends understand the details about your Leukemia?"

Dr Snyder's question felt like he'd thrown a pail of ice cold water over Harry's head. The young wizard's smile vanished from his face and he had to work his hardest to control his breathing so he didn't show how much it affected him. He liked the idea of compartmentalizing those parts of his life - his old, "normal" life from his new one.

"Of course they do," he swiftly answered, his eyebrows lowering as if to say asking such a question was ridiculous. "They've done a lot to help me out since school started."

"Like when you've been sick?" The muggle challenged back to him.

"Well, yeah," Harry replied, and without thinking added, "I mean, I've only been sick in the dorms once so far, but they were all really great about it."

"Do you talk with them about the challenges you face? Or about your fears?"

"What kind of question is that?" Harry asked, offended. "We don't exactly sit around like a bunch of girls talking about our innermost feelings. Did you do that when you were seventeen?"

Another chuckle. For reasons he couldn't figure out, the sound irritated Harry down to his last nerve, "You make a good point, but I didn't have cancer at this already challenging time in life. That changes the landscape quite a bit, otherwise you wouldn't be here." When Harry didn't respond he continued, "So then let me ask you this a different way, outside of our appointments, who do you talk to about your Leukemia or Chemotherapy?"

Harry's jaw clenched tight, almost instantly giving him a headache deep into his temples. Peering around the room, the blue bars looked like they would cave in at any moment. No, this room definitely wasn't relaxing, at least not to someone who'd literally been locked in his bedroom summer after summer.

"Talking about it here has helped," Harry told him the truth, "I don't need someone at school too."

"Having a community who understands the unique challenges we face is an important part of any recovery, whether that be an illness or any other trauma." Harry thought back to Draco and their time at Malfoy Manor, the only two who made up such a distinctive community. The young wizard squirmed under Dr Snyder's friendly stare. "What about the outpatient clinic? Are there other patients there you see each month?"

"Yes," the young wizard said defiantly, unsure where the added aggression had come from.

"And do you ever talk with any of them?"

"Not really," Harry mumbled, and at Dr Snyder's silence, he eventually amended, "ok, not at all. But honestly, what am I supposed to say? 'Hey, you look as miserable as I do'? Trust me, no one wants to hear that, they already know. We all already know."

For the first time since starting these sessions, Harry walked out of the office and down the familiar hallway to the room where Snape always sat waiting for him to be done feeling more confused than when he entered the office. Although the things Dr Snyder asked were within the realm of what Harry needed to hear, it didn't mean he wanted to hear or do any of them. With only two days left before his next chemotherapy, Harry knew he'd have a lot to think about. Just as he turned the corner into the waiting room, he immediately stopped dead in his tracks, practically falling over his own feet at the sight in front of him: Snape sitting next to Mae - the nurse dressed in a pair of green scrubs with large pink hearts all over them, obviously having come over from work - the two adults kissing, not at all noticing his presence. It only took him a second to decide to use his undetected arrival to his advantage. If he were really lucky, Snape might not even ask him anything about the session.

"I really hope you're the girlfriend," Harry called out so loudly Mae hit the back of her head against the wall behind her in her haste to provide as much space between her and Snape as possible. For what it was worth, Snape barely flinched, only releasing a hard sigh and then reached out to check the bump surely forming on the back of the nurse's head. Approaching the couple, Harry tried to hold in his smirk as he added, "otherwise I think Severus and I need to have a long chat about taking relationships seriously."

"Oh we're going to have a serious talk alright," Snape told him, his eyes flickering between anger and amusement. Mae's laugh tipped the scales to the latter and Harry released the breath he held waiting for the fallout.

"It's fine, Sev," she placed her hand on Snape's shoulder pulling him back a little to relax in the chair. "Yes, I'm the girlfriend," She didn't wait for Harry to respond, "I saw you guys coming into the building as I finished my shift and came up to say 'hi'. I must have just missed you though."

Harry sat down in the black cushioned chair across the aisle and directly in front of Snape. He arrogantly placed his hands on the armrests and leaned back.

"So what," the teen sarcastically began, "you guys have been sitting here snogging for an hour?"

"Harry!"

Another laugh from Mae told him Snape's red face - from anger or embarrassment, Harry didn't really care, but was sure he'd find out which once they were alone later that night - wouldn't be too dangerous.

"You didn't tell me he was so spunky," the nurse said to both of them, making Harry grin. "You probably don't remember me…"

"Yeah, I do," Harry filled in where she had intentionally trailed off, hoping he'd do exactly that, "You work at the chemo clinic and told me about your horrible chemistry classes, then let us stay in the exam room during my treatment. I really appreciated that, by the way."

"Anytime." She smiled, blushing for the time, even after the teen caught them in such a precarious position, and Harry found himself relieved by the happiness he felt for Snape. No matter what he told the professor regarding his comfort with their relationship, he had hoped when the time finally came to meet Mae, it would be true. "Well, I'm sure you guys have a lot to catch up on after your appointment, so I really should-"

"Maybe we can find a place to have dinner around here?" Harry suggested, half wanting to get to know his mentor's girlfriend and half hoping it would distract the man from asking about his conversations with Dr Snyder. Turning towards Snape he said, "We already missed dinner at school, and then you wouldn't have to worry about cooking."

"You mean to save me from the painstaking process of ordering from the kitchens?" Snape clearly knew Harry's plan and wasn't buying it. The two of them stared off for a solid thirty seconds, so intently Harry thought about his Occlumency forest anticipating the professor's invasion of his privacy. It didn't come, though, instead Snape nodded, turned to Mae and asked, "Would you care to join us for dinner?"

Mae suggested three different restaurants - a traditional pub, an Indian restaurant, and an all day breakfast cafe - each no more than a block's walk from the hospital and where she frequently visited after work. They chose the English Pub and took off together in search of their meal. Having not expected to walk a great distance to disapparate, Harry had only brought his light jacket, and the cold October air in Guildford quickly penetrated it, until Snape took off his own to wrap snugly around the young wizard's shoulders, leaving him only in a long sleeved muggle dress shirt. Harry hated the attention it generated, but between the extra layer and the brisk walking speed, he warmed up pretty quickly and forgot all about Mae's concerned brown eyes.

Dinner had been as casual as Harry could have hoped. They sat in a corner booth with Mae and Snape on one side and Harry on the other sitting in the middle of his own bench, pretty evenly between them. Harry had lied to Snape when he told the professor his biggest worry about him dating one of the oncology nurses was losing access to his medication if they'd broken up. In reality, his only fear was her treating him differently knowing all she did about his condition if the couple stayed together long term; how easy it would be for her to sympathize - or worse patronize - over him being sick and make a big deal about it. Had she been any other muggle, he could almost pretend nothing was wrong, but she not only knew, she'd helped take care of him at his last treatment. Luckily, those anxieties were quickly swept away because not once in the entire dinner did she mention his cancer. The closest she got to the topic was when she asked about his school - what courses he liked and those he hated - and if he had any trouble getting back into the routine of things this year. Still, even then she didn't give any indication over why he needed to get "back into a routine" in the first place.

Harry enjoyed learning about the nurse and hearing stories of her family - having really only known people as only children or with huge families - though the thought of her having a younger brother only eleven years older than Harry sounded really strange to him. Some quick math in his head told him she was only seventeen years older than him; meaning he'd been born when she was his current age. Once again, Harry was brought back to his friends' relationships - specifically Hermione and Draco's for how serious he could see them becoming - and thought about how unprepared he felt to think about marriage or having a child at his age. Snape was his parents' age, and he had been only twenty when Harry was born. Surely, being as young as they were, his parents would have had another child or two if they had lived past the war, right? And what about Snape? If there hadn't been a war going on would he have gotten married and had children of his own? He drew the line to his anxious questioning at the last question, no part of him wanted to think of the professor in that way.

By the end of the night, Harry came to the conclusion he liked Mae; and not in a "she's a good nurse" way, but in a "she's good for Snape'' way. Somehow her brass, a little bit bossy, and loud nature complemented his quiet, logical, and introverted one. Never would Harry guess those two personalities would come together - and that didn't even account for the magic/muggle thing - but it worked. Harry could see his approval meant a lot to the man, so the Gryffindor made sure to sound reassuring when they said their goodbyes to Mae for the night. It was least he could do for Snape. The man more than deserved to find someone in his life who wouldn't bring him nearly as much stress as Harry and Hogwarts did on a regular basis.

~~~~SS~~~~

Friday 10th October 1997

"What do you know about the Statute of Secrecy laws?" Severus asked Minerva over their weekly tea on Friday night. Given the chaos of the last several weeks, they'd been missing these much needed rendezvous, and Severus relished in the normalcy they brought.

Having already discussed the arrangements for Harry to move up in his courses next week, Minerva had moved on to the newly decided upon Halloween Ball the prefects suggested putting together at their meeting last night; one Severus never attended, but this time he had the reasonable excuse of overseeing the detention of an unfortunate fourth year Hufflepuff. The lot of students thought the last minute celebration an ideal way to unify the school and restore some positive energy after the flood, and perhaps his attendance yesterday could have prevented their train of thinking, Merlin knew Minerva, Pomona, and Filius likely gave their overly enthusiastic support. The very last thing Severus wanted on top of everything else this month was to supervise and organize a ball in only twenty-one days, and so naturally, he chose to do his best to ignore it - at least during this time with his colleague - and work through his mind's own latest tangent: the complexity of Mae learning about magic at some point.

"Good to know you're on top of the Slytherin decoration responsibility," she quipped. "Shall I just assume all of your house's duties will be shifted off to Pomona's house as usual?"

"No," he squinted his eyes across at her and took a sip of his tea to delay his inevitable agreement to the ball. "I'll speak with my prefects and see what they feel comfortable taking on for this last minute, ill-planned endeavor. As you can imagine, they're a bit off kilter as of late."

"That's all I expect, Severus," her smile showed she believed she'd won the battle and he had to hold back his eye roll. "As for your original inquiry, you cannot tell her."

"I am aware of that fact," he bellowed back. "What I'm curious about is when one is allowed to cross that line. As far as I know my own mother was not forthcoming with the information until well after I had been born. Surely we aren't required to wait until accidental magic is seen in a child?"

Severus hadn't realized his issue with the Statute until stating that very question out loud. The double edged sword wasn't lost on him: either they permanently lived in the muggle world - only revealing their true nature after welcoming a magical child - or they choose to break the Statute at some earlier moment, risking the need to obliviate their significant other should the relationship not last. Neither of those scenarios benefitted the magical person in the relationship, and on some microscopic level, Severus could almost understand how Voldemort managed to start his following, at least prior to his turning it from a campaign to regain their rights among the muggles and into mass genocide against them.

"Assuming the woman you fancy does not have a magical relative, it's the sacrifice you make when deciding to pursue the relationship," she sadly explained, and he could see the pain in her eyes telling him of a story she likely didn't want to discuss. If she had, the witch would have no qualms of going into it with him, therefore he respected her privacy and didn't inquire.

"Our magical community is far too small to rely solely on magical blood to continue family lines," he scoffed, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. "The sacred twenty-eight are already littered with enough incentual relationships to generate generations of defects, can you imagine if the half-bloods and muggleborns succumbed to the same ideology? Not to mention that for every two muggles who welcome their magical spouse and child with open arms, there is at least one who ends up like my own father or Harry's relatives. Think of all the hardship we could save these magical children if their muggle parent knew what he or she was getting into beforehand."

"Now you sound like Voldemort," she told him, and paused staring thoughtfully across the desk at him. "You're not wrong," she eventually conceded, "but it's a dangerous game to play. Though the ministry has no set rules quantifying when a relationship could be deemed serious enough to break the secrecy, adding a magical child - one who will display magic uncontrollably - certainly warrants the need to inform the other parent. We already have muggleborns being scrutinized prior to their Hogwarts letter, no need to add to the situation unnecessarily."

"And those who don't have children?"

"Then the magical partner chooses to live in the muggle world. That being said, I doubt the Ministry is checking in on every muggle-magical relationship, so long as the muggle maintains the secrecy I imagine it wouldn't be an issue," her statement had a finality to it making it clear it was the best she could offer him. It would be a lot to consider, and not only for himself, but Harry too. He knew the young wizard's feelings about living in the magical world - hence his desire to try and protect Harry's magic - so what would maintaining his courting with Mae mean for the Gryffindor Severus permanently chose to live in the muggle world? Against his better judgement, he'd table those thoughts for now and focus only on the situation directly in front of him.

"How ridiculously outlandish of an event should I be expecting for this Halloween ball?" He grudgingly asked, kicking off a lengthy conversation on how they could possibly pull off an elegant event while keeping in the spirit of the eerie holiday.

Between cauldrons filled with bubbling green punch, spider web covered back tables, and black and orange floral centerpiece, Severus had more than enough to think about before Pomona knocked on the door to his office, pushing the slightly ajar door fully opened. He had a complicated history with the Hufflepuff head of house, mostly due to her inability to understand his own harsher methods in his classes. Even in his old reality, the two colleagues would often find themselves in a heated debate about how she should consider adopting several of his classroom methodology as her class surpassed his in injuries every single year. Students often had a false sense of security working with plants over poisonous and explosive potions and yet she never seemed overly concerned for their safety. Each time they engaged in their debate, she'd nod her head and, like any good Hufflepuff, tell him she'd take it under consideration, and he walked away knowing she'd forget at the first possible chance.

"Pomona," Minerva announced, turning to greet their guest, "we were just going over the plans for the Halloween ball. It's such a tight turnaround, but Severus has assured me his students are committed to hitting the deadline-"

"Hardly," he lamented, but the elder witch didn't stop from his interruption.

"-would you care to join us? We have plenty of tea."

Severus watched Minerva thinking she was getting far too much pleasure in the situation and wondering if she had something extra in her tea he should be asking for in his own.

"No, no, no," the Herbology professor nervously declined. Severus intently watched her hands wringing over one another, in front of her chest confirming whatever the topic of conversation, it had nothing to do with the ball. To help ease her anxiety over it, Severus waved his wand to pull out the second chair for her, which she promptly accepted. "Thank you. I'm… ah, I'm... actually glad you're both here, it will make this easier having only to go through it once."

Minerva's light hearted body language immediately stiffened, matching Severus's own. There were only two reasons the Hufflepuff professor could want to speak with them together: an unlikely issue with one of her students between both a Gryffindor and a Slytherin, or the more probable reason something involving Harry.

"Harry?" Severus confirmed, his anxiety instantly rising when Pomona slowly nodded her head. Harry was currently serving detention in the dungeons, so he reasoned if the young wizard had been in danger, Horace would have been here rather than Pomona.

"Obviously he's in a unique position having to repeat my course," she began speaking after handing him two rolled up sheets of parchment. He unrolled them, placing each one face up on his desk while he continued to listen to the other professor's explanation, "but I often see this type of thing from siblings, especially those who are closer in age, so I keep copies of all the essays I collect for a certain amount of time. I can honestly say I didn't expect this from Harry."

Cheating. Severus quickly picked up the fact she was accusing Harry of cheating. Luckily he chose to hold his judgement until he could examine the essays himself because what he found sincerely shocked him. For all of Harry's righteousness and need to be fair, he didn't think the child had it in him to literally copy one of his essays from last year - with the corrections Professor Sprout provided almost verbatim - filled in. And yet, there was no other explanation for the work he was looking at upon his desk. He would never condone cheating, but at the same time he certainly knew his Slytherins often tried to get away with similar stunts, but they had a cunningness to them to at least make the new work appear as if it weren't copied from an older classmate or sibling. Severus's mind ventured back to the young wizard's random request to go back to Spinner's End, and suddenly it all made sense. He'd been capitalizing on his situation, and had it been Charms - a class he only needed the practical for his magical retraining - Severus wouldn't have felt the anger and distrust rise within him. Instead it had to be one of his only two classes that he legitimately needed the theory grade in too.

"I can't believe Harry would do something like this," Minerva shockingly stated. There was no denying it had been exactly what Harry had done.

"I'll take care of it," Severus answered, not listening to whatever the two witches were conversing about. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention."

"He's still in my house, Severus," Minerva practically yelled as the former spy rose from his desk, ready to storm into the dungeons. "Disciplinary matters such as this fall to me."

"He knowingly abused a privilege-"

"- I'm certain it's just a misunderstanding," Pomona tried to rationalize. "Maybe he thought since he'd taken the theory last year-"

Severus cut her off by slamming his hand down on his desk, "He knew exactly what he was doing when he asked to accompany me back to our home for the sole purpose of collecting these-" he held up the essays as tangible proof, "-he needs to learn there are consequences to those actions. Either of you are more than welcome to add your own punishment to my own."

Minerva quietly considered the options in front of her. "That's quite alright," she decided, "I'm sure you will already cover anything I would have to add. I'll speak with him on Monday when he's back in the Tower."

As Severus stormed from his office towards the depths of the school with the full intention of interrupting Harry's detention with Horace, he changed his mind once he reached the bottom step. If any Head of House disturbed his detention as he wanted to do, he'd be furious, and technically Severus wasn't even Harry's Head of House, which only further complicated the matter. With chemotherapy early tomorrow morning, the young wizard would be staying the night in their quarters, giving him the ideal opportunity to breach the subject on his own terms.

Severus settled into his armchair in the sitting room - giving him a perfect line of sight to the door - and took the opportunity to review the two essays Pomona brought to his office. Reading through the essay on Snargaluff Pods with a focus on how to safely extract them, Severus almost managed to convince himself Harry hadn't necessarily been in the wrong to reuse the essay. He had, after all, written the original, unlike when an older sibling or housemate provides their old essays to another, and as the topic was identical in nature, Harry still learned from the lesson as intended. Where the Gryffindor faltered though, and where the major infraction lay, was his use of Pomona's corrections and suggestions. Given the same situation, a Slytherin would have at least reworded the professor's text rather than plagiarize it, and in that case he'd be able to argue in favor for his student. This was just pure laziness for a student who had the easiest schedule in the entire school.

In hindsight he had hoped the extra time waiting for Harry would help him calm down, however the opposite ended up being true, so when Harry walked in into their quarters only half an hour later, he was still sitting in his armchair seething inside. Harry had his Gryffindor robe slung haphazardly over his shoulder and evidence of the cauldrons he'd scrubbed all over the arms of his shirt. Severus briefly felt thankful he'd been scrubbing and not chopping ingredients for next week's lessons because the less chance they gave Harry to cut himself - and Severus had seen the young wizard weld a potions knife plenty of times to know he couldn't do it without nicking his fingers at least once - the better. His school bag was slung over the shoulder opposite his robe and filled with everything he'd need to spend the weekend recovering from chemotherapy tomorrow.

Walking into the room towards his bedroom, Harry jumped at the sight of Severus silently watching him from the sitting room.

"You could make some noise or something," Harry complained, his hand reaching up to his chest as if he'd almost had a heart attack from the fright. Severus didn't waver. Carefully walking into the sitting room, obviously picking up on the angry air around the professor, Harry dropped his bag and robe onto the floor beside the sofa and warily asked, "What is going on? Did I forget something?"

"Take a seat," Severus managed to get out through his clenched teeth, "we need to talk."

Harry obediently sat down on the sofa, his back straight as an arrow having no idea what lay ahead of him.

"I swear I didn't tell anyone about you having a girlfriend," Harry started in on an explanation of what he expected to be in trouble over.

Under different circumstances, Severus would have loved to wait it out, continue to silently stare at the young wizard to see where this admission was going. Unfortunately, he needed to release his pent anger, so he leaned forward and slammed the papers down onto the table between them and said, "Explain."

To his credit, Harry didn't recoil at the sound of Severus's hand coming in contact with the hard wood table, and he did his due diligence by examining the papers before attempting a hasty, half thought through explanation. Severus watched the teen's green eyes as they scanned the parchment back and forth and relished in the moment they went wide in understanding of what he'd been caught doing.

"It's not how it looks-" Harry quickly stated.

"Oh good," the professor threw his hands in the air before crossing them over his chest as he leaned back, anxious to hear Harry's explanation, already knowing it would make no difference to him. "Because it looks like you took your old essay, added in the corrections from your professor, and handed it in again this year, thus proving you haven't actually learned anything from the lesson you're being graded on."

"Erm…" Harry's brows furrowed down onto his face, "well, you see… I guess it does look like how it is."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Are you hard of hearing now?" Severus bold accused.

"No," Harry held back his anger at the insult, "I just meant… if you already know the situation, then does it really matter?"

"Cheating, which is exactly what this is-" Severus aggressively picked the papers up in his hand and shook them between the pair, "- is a serious offense. Did you not think the professors have ways to identify plagiarism?! Don't answer that, obviously you didn't or I hope you wouldn't have done something so idiotic! It's bad enough you and Mr Weasley regularly turned in work that clearly had been derived, if not written by, Miss Granger year after year, but at least then there wasn't anything to compare it to!"

"I'm sor-"

"Not to mention," once Severus started in on his lecture, he found he didn't want to stop, "you've abused a privilege I've given for you to be able to go back home to collect whatever you may need for the school year. That is an absolutely deplorable way to show respect to someone who has worked hard to get you healthy and everything you need to succeed in your schooling!"

"I'm-"

"I'm sorry isn't going to cut it this time, Harry," the professor interjected, not wanting to hear the condescending words uttered from the young wizard.

"Then what can I do? I don't exactly have access to a time turner to go back and fix it."

"First of all, you'll be serving detention with Professor Sprout for however long she needs your assistance in her greenhouse, not to be limited to this year alone. Second-" he lifted his hand to stop whatever protests Harry was certain to bring up, "you will be rewriting every single essay for both Herbology and Potions, since the beginning of the school year."

"What?!" Harry yelled. "That's not fair! I've barely just started using the essays!"

"The purpose of assigned homework is to help the information sink into the thick skulls of teenage students, therefore if you are merely copying the assignment from one vector to another, you will not be retaining any of the information. By rewriting every essay you will have a better chance at ensuring you learn the materials."

Harry sat defiantly staring at him for a solid minute chewing over what he'd been told. Severus expected him to continue to complain or try to explain again, and therefore was surprised when he asked, "Am I done? I'd like to get a shower before going to bed."

"Yes, you may go now," the professor answered, not even moving when Harry's bedroom door predictably slammed closed.

Severus sat still in the sitting room going over everything that had been said between the two wizards. Had he been too hard on Harry? If the child needed help, all he had to do was ask any of his professors and they would have been more than willing to assist him. Severus closed his eyes tightly and leaned back, listening to the shower running from the lavatory. Harry always showered the night before chemotherapy and then again the moment he felt well enough on Sunday, and it served to him as a reminder that if he didn't clear the air with the teen now, his next real chance wouldn't be until Sunday evening.

The shower stopped about twenty minutes later and Severus opened his eyes, then rubbed his hands nervously down the top of his trousers in preparation for the task ahead of him. Taking his time to cross the sitting room and the corridor leading to their bedrooms, the sound of the desk drawers opening and slamming shut gave him a clear indication Harry had not calmed down from their argument.

When his knock went unanswered, Severus cautiously opened the door. The room was still brightly lit by the lanterns in the corners and the enchanted window was no longer set on the scene of the Black Lake. The professor didn't have to use legilimency to know the flood caused the change to it. Harry was standing at his desk aggressively packing away paper and muggle pens into his school bag he would be bringing to the clinic in the morning.

"What? Didn't you say enough already?" Harry muttered just loud enough for Severus to hear. Eventually, the young wizard turned and faced Severus.

Gesturing to the bed, Severus sat down and to his surprise, Harry followed. The teen was already dressed for bed in a pair of all black long sleeved pyjamas, and with his long black hair still dripping wet reminded Severus more of himself at seventeen than James Potter.

"How have classes been?" He carefully asked the Gryffindor. Though he wanted to give Harry a chance to explain the situation, he also didn't want to lead him to an answer.

"They're either boring," Harry complained, but the professor respected him for his honesty, "or they make no sense. There really is no in-between."

Giving his head a slight nod in understanding, Severus said, "Can I assume the boring classes are Charms and Defense leaving Herbology and Potions too difficult?" Harry nodded. "What makes the latter two difficult?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno," he answered, his frustration heavy in his voice, "I know I did all of this last year, but it was different when it was one on one, y'know?"

"Yes, that I can appreciate," Severus confirmed, to which Harry visibly relaxed from the validation of his feelings. "But what you must understand is you should have come to me, or one of your professors, when you found yourself having trouble… even if it's that the class work is boring you-"

"-yeah, right," Harry scoffed. "Like you'd really listen if I said second year Charms lectures were putting me to sleep."

"Possibly not," Severus admitted, "I'd probably tell you to deal with it and move on, but you never gave me that opportunity."

A heavy silence fell between them. "I'm sorry," the young wizard eventually said, "I'm bringing my Herbology to chemo tomorrow and I'll get started on rewriting the essays."

"Good," Severus pointedly answered, not about to undo the punishment he'd already set in motion. If anything, redoing his work would give Harry a better foundation for the work he struggled in. "Should you need any assistance, I can obviously help in Potions and am sufficient enough in Herbology to be able to explain a sixth year level."

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry chuckled, making Severus feel a little more comfortable about the situation. It always amazed him how far they'd managed to come since he arrived here - especially given their turbulent past in this reality - and how easily they could navigate a situation like this one. "Did you hear about the Halloween ball?"

Now it was Severus's turn to laugh, "How could I not? I'm assuming this originated from your Common Room?"

Feigning insult, Harry dramatically draped his hand over his heart, "Why would you assume such a thing?!" Severus lifted one eyebrow in response. "Fine… it may have come from Lavender, through Ron, but it wouldn't be happening if the rest of the prefects didn't agree on it!"

"Be sure to thank the bubbling couple for me."

"Don't be like that," Harry pleaded. "You have to admit we all need this. It'll be good for the school to have something good to focus on even if it's a silly dance… too bad you can't bring Mae," he quietly admitted. "How does all that work?"

And just like that, somehow the universe managed to bring his night back around full circle and he spent the next ten minutes explaining the details - or at least as much as he knew of them - of the Statute of Secrecy to the teen. Severus almost laughed at Harry's retelling of Molly's reaction over the possibility of being seen when the the Weasley wizards rescued Harry from Privet Drive prior to his second year; not over the child's need for rescue or the thought of them plummeting to the ground in a faulty accident, but Harry's animated reenactment of the story, complete with voices and actions. From there they discussed Harry's own attendance to the ball and his desire to go alone this time. The professor couldn't help correlate this occasion to the Yule Ball, where he had to practically be dragged out in his dress robes - reminding Severus he needed to make a trip home to collect their set from the wedding - and yet ended up having a good time. The child sitting next to him appeared calm and almost excited over the upcoming event. Despite his own ill feelings towards the ball, perhaps Lavender and the prefects weren't completely mental and something as simple as a dance could help the school and students come together after their near tragedy.

If only Harry and Severus could stay in that moment, where the biggest things they had to worry about were Harry's essays and who the young wizard would or wouldn't take to the Halloween ball. Unfortunately, neither of them knew the course they'd set upon months ago would come back to them, causing the floor to be ripped out from beneath their feet long before they made it to the Halloween ball.