~~~~HP~~~~

Saturday, 21 October 1997

Subconsciously, Harry knew he'd deeply regret not listening more carefully to Snape when the professor went on and on last night about all of the different ways for him to prevent getting sick. Thinking back on the conversation as he fell asleep, in addition to the rather embarrassing term of endearment he partially recollected saying, the Gryffindor remembered a lot of talk on handwashing, using the sanitizing spell, and keeping people away who had a cold or any other sign of recent illness, but nowhere in his foggy memory did he recall anything about being required to wear the blue muggle face mask to Hogsmeade, of all places. As the young wizard sat at breakfast that morning having his temperature taken and running through a series of questions - what were his pain levels like, how did his stomach feel, did he get a good night's sleep, did he feel sick in any way including, but limited to a sore throat, cough, or earache - Snape grudgingly proclaimed he'd be allowed to go to Hogsmeade under two conditions: he kept his sphere on him at all times and he wore the muggle face mask which now included an additional filtering charm added by Professor Flitwick last week. No matter how much he initially wanted to complain, Harry prided himself in maintaining his silence, because it meant he would get to spend the time with his friends - while Snape went to the MLD, which would have made him sound even more ungrateful - and he needed this time with them.

"So, remind me again why we have to follow the girls around as they… what word did they use?"

Ron's question, or more accurately his whine, rang through Gladrags causing several other groups around them to snicker. It seemed that with the first Hogsmeade weekend falling on the Saturday before the Halloween Ball everyone had the same idea of last-minute shopping for the very last-minute event. Giggling girls shifted through more racks of formal clothes than Harry had ever seen out any other year - leading him to believe they merchandised specifically for the occasion - looking for a better dress than they managed to scrape up from writing home, a new pair of shoes, or a matching set of skull and bone necklace and earrings. And for each set of witches ravaging the store, a set of wizards stood off to the side with their arms crossed waiting on their dates to finish so they could continue with the more typical first Hogsmeade weekend of Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, loading up on candy at Honeydukes, and product testing from Zonkos. Gratefully, Harry, Ron, and Dudley got there early enough with the girls to have secured the prime location in the suffocatingly small shop; nestled between the large picture window and the door. Having been raised in a proper Pureblood household Draco originally resolved to walking alongside Hermione, taking an interest in her reasoning between her options and offering his own opinion on her narrowed-down selection; however, the longer it went on, the more Harry noticed the Slytherin tiring.

"Accessorizing," Harry offered the term none of the boyfriends wanted to say. "I believe Lavender called it 'accessorizing'."

As the only single wizard in their group of friends, Harry had no real reason to be in the shop, outside of fellow wizard camaraderie, but he used it as a decent excuse to be out of the cold; having forgotten how the post-chemotherapy cold - especially this close to the approaching winter - easily soaked all the way down into his infected bones. Watching his overly bored friends, and all the other tortured-looking blokes, he wanted to emphatically remind them how lucky they were to be able to stand there and wait for their girlfriends. Regardless of everyone trying to convince him otherwise, Harry still flat out refused to ask a girl to the dance, unwilling to have to stand her up should he be told he couldn't go. Not that he knew who he would even ask, seeing as pretty much everyone he knew was paired up already. Even Neville had a date, although they - nor Dean and Ginny - were not currently accessorizing… or talking about makeup, hair, or any other ridiculous ritual women did to ready themselves for a dance.

"Whatever it's called," Ron laughed, shaking his head from side to side, "I don't see why we can't go for a Butterbeer while they do it."

"We're being supportive," Draco answered as he approached before Harry had the chance to. Without uttering another word, the Malfoy heir pushed his way against the wall between Dudley and a fifth-year Ravenclaw wizard Harry didn't know.

"What happened to your 'Pureblooded manners'?" Ron taunted when it became obvious Draco decided to throw in the towel on helping his girlfriend select a new pair of shoes; Hermione held up two pairs of equally low heels to Susan Bones, one in purple and the other black.

"They burned out after the seventh pair of earrings she looked at," Draco quietly scowled. "At least I made a solid attempt to stay interested in her needs. That's more than I can say about you three."

"Hey now!" Harry raised his hands up to defend himself, "I don't even have a date in that mess!"

"True as that may be, Potter," Draco smirked, "we all saw you bail on Padma the first chance you got at the Yule Ball-"

"I went with Parvati-" Harry chimed in, but Draco didn't come close to hearing him.

"-and then you were awkward as hell with Lovegood at Slughorn's party last year-"

"-we had a good time-"

"-and all I'm trying to say," Draco finally got to the point, "is that you can claim to be all high and mighty, but we both know that if you did have a date out there, your arse would still be glued to this spot next to Weasley."

The four friends stood still, waiting for Harry to respond.

Ron broke the proverbial silence - as the shop was anything but silent - first with a laugh, "I mean, he's not wrong, Harry. We'd both still be in the same position."

Behind his mask, Harry grinned for a split second before a sad truth fell over him: Draco and Ron were absolutely right, but why wouldn't he stand through rows and rows of lace, satin, and jewels? Why would he truly believe he'd be bad boyfriend material? The obvious reason, of course, was that he, and Dudley for that matter, hadn't grown up with any real positive role model for a relationship. In the past, Harry tried not to think too much about the marriage between Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, only that he knew they were the type of people he didn't want to follow in any aspect of his life. And yet Dudley - who used to idolize his parents to a fault - seemed to have no qualms about his relationship with Susan. In fact, the Hufflepuff was quickly becoming a comfortable part of their group, evident as she walked around the shop with Hermione, now looking at a shawl to match her yellow dress. So clearly either Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon's relationship hadn't been nearly as damaging as Harry grew up believing, or his muggle cousin actually learned a thing or two from all the telly he used to watch.

Ron at least had his parents who, in Harry's eyes, had the perfect partnership anyone would want to follow. But having spent so few times with them over the summers he didn't necessarily consider them role models to himself. Mr Weasley may have included him with Ron when discussing "the wands and cauldrons" during the summer of the Quidditch World Cup, mortifying both teens, but deep down he still thought of the couple as Ron's parents. Then there was Draco. It didn't take a seer to know the Slytherin likely grew up with an emotionally stunted family; one so different from the Weasleys in every which way possible. Harry had been there, and saw first hand Draco's confused expression when his mother went out of her way to help them both - Draco after the ritual and Harry after chemotherapy - leading him to believe the adults in the manor didn't exactly express their love or affection often. Out of all of them, though, Draco had been the only one to at least attempt to support his girlfriend, so if nothing else his prim and proper upbringing left some kind of positive impact on the Slytherin teen. Not for the first time, it made him wonder how his counterpart in Snape's old reality fared in the Witches Department. This Snape appeared to have a decent relationship with Mae, so who's to say he wouldn't have been a good role model for his son? And if that were true, could it apply to Harry now?

"Forget the girls for a second," Ron pushed himself up from the wall, faced the other three boys, and lowered his voice, "how's everything coming along for this after party?"

That certainly distracted Harry's mind from his turbulent thoughts of dating.

"If you tell me you've had no part in this, I'm writing to Fred and George right now to declare how much of a disappointment you've become in their name," Harry laughed.

"Oh, he's had his hand in it," Dudley nodded, "practically started the whole thing."

"All I did was suggest a small group in the Common Room, no different than our Quidditch parries," Ron lifted his hands feigning innocence. "It's not my fault Hermione's dating across house lines."

"Thanks for that, Weasley," Draco retorted, "I'll be sure to invite you to the next illegal Slytherin party."

"That's assuming you're even invited," Ron gave the blonde a soft push on his shoulder and Draco only nodded his head in agreement then started talking about one from their fifth year where a seventh year brought in Dragon Dust to hand around and when Snape found out the stone walls literally rattled from his anger.

"Wait a second," Harry interrupted the story as Draco geared up to answer Dudley's curiosity about what it felt like taking Dragon Dust, "why can't Draco come into the Common Room? Parvati and Padma do it all of the time."

"There you go with your Gryffindor righteousness again. It'd almost be cute if it wasn't so damn annoying," Draco scoffed. "Sure, I'm allowed to enter so long as I'm invited in, but having dinner at your table is a bit less personal than entering your residence. Add mass consumption of alcohol to the mix and we decided a neutral place is probably the better… or safer... option. For what it's worth, I wouldn't let Hermione step foot into the Slytherin Dungeons under any conditions, let alone the current ones."

"That's different," Harry argued. "More than half of your housemates legitimately wouldn't mind seeing her dead… or being the one doing it."

"Such innocence you have," Draco narrowed his eyes, condescendingly. "Deep down, your lot thinks the same. Hell, half the wizarding world wouldn't mind the Malfoys getting what they assume is our comeuppance."

"Guys, we're off track," Ron retorted. "We've got the place, the food- " his voice lowered, "and the drinks. What're we missing?"

Harry looked between the group of teens, then suggested, "The entertainment? What're you guys going to do at this party?"

"What do you mean, you guys?" Ron whispered, "You're totally gonna be there, Harry. I don't care if I have to kidnap you under your invisibility cloak after Snape goes to sleep."

"Done that already, thank you very much," Harry looked over at Draco, with the slightest hint of humour in his voice. For what it was worth, the glare Draco sent him didn't have nearly the bite it could have had, or would have had in the past.

"Plus, I'm pretty sure Snape doesn't sleep like a normal human," Ron chimed in.

"You're forgetting a very important detail," Harry said, getting frustrated with the direction this was headed, "there is no way Severus won't notice me missing and with chemo the next day-"

"Your blood counts will be at their highest," Draco offered, leaving Harry stunned at his knowledge despite knowing the Slytherin wanted to specialize in muggle diseases. "So it's really the best time for you to be out and about, Potter."

"Perfect!" Ron clapped his hands, making Harry roll his eyes over how much similar to Lavender he looked. "Dudley, you're on how to get Harry to the party."

"Consider it done."

Harry glared over at his cousin who he knew snuck out of his parents' house enough times to actually be able to pull something off if Snape weren't smarter than both Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon combined… multiplied by at least ten. Heaving a large sigh, he decided to let his friends try because no matter what he said, given the chance, he did really want to go.

"This party…" Ron started in on their plans, so far, for the event.

Early on they decided to invite everyone from the sixth and seventh years across all four houses - a move which legitimately surprised Harry; nothing brings enemies together like a mutual secret - using a Fidelius Charm courtesy of Draco. Basically, once the person opened the offered invitation, they wouldn't be able to give any details on the event, thus keeping it a complete secret from the professors. It was brilliant, Harry thought and wondered why they hadn't done something like it for the D.A. meetings in their fifth year.

Astonishingly, the witches outlasted the wizards' talk about the after party, as well as their plans for the seance Dudley and Draco still wanted to do sometime next month; a feat Harry found quite incredible considering they'd spent over an hour in Gladrags already. Finally, with bags shrunken in their pockets, the witches rejoined their dates, giggling and debating their purchases all the way to their next stop: Honeydukes, followed by The Three Broomsticks. In Honeydukes, Harry joined in contributing to the Halloween Ball stash as well as some things to keep on his own. He wanted something to bring to the hospital for his next cycle, but there wasn't anything "muggle enough" for him to feel comfortable bringing along, so he settled on leaving all of his purchases in the dungeons.

The Three Broomsticks was their last stop for the day - having cut Zonkos out of the agenda after spending too long in Gladrags - for a late lunch and Butterbeers with Dean, Ginny, Seamus, Neville, Hannah, and Luna. The large group of thirteen friends required two tables to be pushed together in order to fit them all, and it was still tight once the copious amounts of mugs and plates were brought in. Naturally, and much to Harry's exhaustion, the main topic of the afternoon was the Halloween festivities, followed by the first Quidditch game tomorrow afternoon of Gryffindor versus Slytherin. The consensus across the table, including the Ravenclaw and two Hufflepuffs, was that Slytherin didn't stand a chance with Harper paired against Ginny. Bets were placed around the table about how quickly the game would be over, spanning as low as fifteen minutes to as long as an hour. Not having seen Ginny play Seeker recently, Harry felt bad placing his own wager at thirty-eight minutes, hoping he hadn't insulted his former teammate. In the back of his mind, Harry knew he shouldn't have partaken in the bet seeing as all of the fun involved actually being there to watch everything go down and there was an equal chance of him being able to-and unable to attend, but in the heat of the moment, it made him feel like a normal teenager for the first time in a while.

When the conversation moved on to life after Hogwarts, Harry's mood turned slightly sour and he all but tuned those around him out. He nodded his head where he should and occasionally asked a question about internships or apprenticeships, not getting too deep into what everyone planned to do after leaving the school. He already knew Hermione wanted to go into journalism, Ron to work with the twins at Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, and Draco to get a dual certification in healing and muggle medicine. He didn't mention anything regarding his newfound tutoring with Draco, and if the Slytherin knew anything about it, he didn't say a word about it either. The worst part of the whole conversation was that no one thought to ask him about his plans. They all already knew he likely wouldn't be finishing his magical education, at least not in the typical fashion, and they knew nothing about his lack of options in the muggle world. Just when he was thinking it was for the best they didn't ask him - between his body beginning to ache and a small bit of nausea starting, he'd likely tell them he'd settle on being alive in three years - his ears perked up at a comment about Tonks as their Defense professor this past week.

"Who wooehld've thought we'd mess Snape teachin' so much?" Seamus exclaimed across the table. Based on his excessively boisterous voice throughout lunch, it couldn't be more obvious the Irishman met them at the pub after having something stronger than Butterbeer somewhere else first.

Harry's head snapped up from picking at his fried fish at the rhetorical question. "Wait, what's wrong with Tonks? I'd hoped to be able to see her teach at some point. Figured as an auror, she'd be pretty decent."

The friends all peered around at one another and Harry wanted to scream that they didn't need to censor themselves for him.

Dean broke the awkward silence first. "Nothing's really wrong, exactly. She's a bit clumsy and has all the right skills… it's just... we missed our duelling week. Apparently, Professor Snape didn't relay that part in his lesson plans, and Auror Tonks didn't believe any of us when we tried to tell her he has us duelling every other week."

"Can you really blame her?" Hermione sternly chastised him. "I certainly wouldn't trust the lot of you! And all your sniggering while trying to convince her didn't exactly help your cause."

Seamus leaned over and gave Dean a small punch on the arm causing the pair to start laughing hysterically.

Definitely more than Butterbeer, Harry chuckled to himself.

The infectious laughter combined with the visual in his head of the group of seventh years attempting to tell Tonks, of all people, to let them fight one another was enough to practically melt away Harry's bad mood.

"She dedn't 'ave to be so mean abooeht it, though,'' Seamus took a large gulp of his drink. "I thought she was goin' to send me to Azkaban for a minute there!"

"Wait! Wasn't she a Hufflepuff?" Ginny grinned, and Harry heard Neville whisper 'sorry' to Hannah and Susan, "I can't see her having a mean bone in her body."

The proclamation caused Dean and Seamus to laugh even harder and Draco to almost choke on one of his chips.

"So, Harry," Dean asked once the ruckus lowered to a more respectable level, "the big question of the day… will Professor Snape be back in class next week?"

Everyone around the table turned towards him. "Yeah, he should be. He's working at the Malfoys' lab this morning, so I don't see why he wouldn't be back teaching on Monday."

"Oh, so he's not in Hogsmeade today?" Ron curiously asked, giving Draco a sideways glance meaning absolutely nothing to Harry. Remembering Ron's odd queries about Snape and Hogsmeade while he was in the hospital, Harry narrowed his eyes at the two wizards sitting with Hermione between them. "I thought you said he'd be in the village today... at… I think it was… Madam Puddifoot's?"

Unable to stop himself, Harry spit out the pumpkin juice he'd been drinking - embarrassingly all over Susan sitting across from him - when his best friend asked the unbelievably random question. Later, Harry would try to convince himself that the pumpkin juice incident had been a perfectly viable excuse for why the next sentence came out of his mouth because midway through helping Susan clean up the mess on her shirt, he blurted out, "No, he wouldn't step foot in that place! Besides, Mae's a mug..."

Instantly recognizing what he'd been about to say, Harry paused and slapped both of his hands tightly over his mouth. His face turned bright red knowing he couldn't take away the slip-up, and based on the shocking gapes staring back at him, every person at the table heard it.

"Told you, Weasley," Draco loudly declared behind Hermione's back. In reply, Ron pulled two galleons out of his robe pocket and slammed them into Slytherin's outstretched hand. "I really should feel bad for taking money from a Weasley, but it serves you right for gambling on things you don't know half about!"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, highly offended. He peered around the table to see who else had gotten in on the wager. No one made any exchange of money, but their faces were all equally eager to hear more.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't see that," Hermione dramatically shook her head and draped her palm over her forehead. To Harry the point seemed moot; she'd watched them all gamble on tomorrow's Quidditch match.

"We're not on school grounds," Ron argued to validate his point, however, they obviously made the bet back at Hogwarts. "And anyway-"

"So, who is this Mae?" The question came unsurprisingly from Lavender. The Gryffindor witch was leaning forward cheering her hands excitedly, fully engrossed in whatever she expected him to tell her and not at all concerned over Harry's angry expression or Hermione's disapproval over the gambling. Harry reminded himself the idea to throw Snape's surprise birthday party last January came from Lavender, so perhaps she was legitimately excited about the prospect of him dating someone? If so, Harry felt slightly guilty, because as shallow as he thought she was, in the end, she always had the best of intentions for them.

"I didn't say-"

"We all heard you, Potter," Draco arrogantly interrupted, "and Severus has been way too… happy, for lack of a better word... this year, all things considered, to not be seeing someone. I've seen the missives pop up, I just didn't know for sure."

"So you cheated!" Ron yelled and reached his arm back towards Draco. "Gimme back my galleons!"

"A bet's a bet, Weasley," the Slytherin slyly smiled, "I warned you not to take it, but it's not my job to babysit your bad decisions, so that's on you." He turned back to Harry, "So who is she?"

"Like I'm going to tell you anything more," Harry sarcastically replied, "I shouldn't have said it in the first place!"

Unsurprisingly, Draco didn't look at all morally strained by the conversation, whereas everyone else around them fell somewhere between uncomfortable and intrigued; like when you couldn't look away from an accident about to happen.

"Let me offer you this, then, and it's a one time, take it or leave it deal," Draco negotiated. "I'll make sure Severus never finds out what you said here-" he nodded his head reassuringly at the group around them, "- but you have to tell us about this… Mae. Otherwise, I may just have to ask him myself and he'll definitely want to know where I heard it from."

Harry rolled his eyes, "So your big plan is to blackmail me? I can just go to Severus tonight and tell him I accidentally said something, then you have nothing over me and no information."

"You could, but we all know you won't," Draco taunted. "So, do we have a deal?"

A solid minute passed with the two of them staring menacingly at one another; green eyes versus grey, waiting for the other to back down.

"She's a muggle," Harry said, against his better judgement. "Alright?!"

"Oooh," Lavender began bouncing up and down in her seat, requiring Ron to calm her down by placing his hand on her shoulder and reminding her to keep quiet. "How'd they meet, how'd they meet?"

Harry wiggled nervously in his seat, then grudgingly muttered, "She's a nurse at my oncologist's office."

"Oh, so you've met her, then?" Ron asked, shocked. Harry gave a small nod. "And she's normal? Not like a vampire-loving grunge?"

Harry's face heated up just thinking about all of the trouble he'd be in if Snape ever discovered what he'd told. A lecture consisting of his "abhorrent decision-making skills" was sure to be in his future, and the Gryffindor really hoped his friends would be able to keep their mouths shut about it all. Unfortunately, that would end up being far from his mind by the end of the night as fate had different plans for the teens who failed to see the group watching them closely from the other side of the pub.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus's Saturday working at the laboratory had been one of his most difficult days in his adult career. The one night of decent sleep couldn't come close to undoing the inadequacy from the previous week, leaving him in an almost volatile state when he departed the school grounds, disapparating to the laboratory. He'd dealt with Harry over breakfast, laying down the rules for his allowance to visit Hogsmeade, and though he trusted the young wizard to take it seriously, Harry didn't always demonstrate the best decision-making skills. As such, his intuition was on high alert the moment he left the school grounds and arrived in the field right outside the MLD grounds later.

Desperate to find his new sense of normal, the professor walked into the beautiful glass building - later than usual given his morning with Harry - acting no different than he had before Harry's relapse. He craved the distraction brewing would provide, the isolation to work through a problem not directly his own and the peace of mind that he was doing what he could to fight, even if Harry couldn't actually use a drop of the potions he made. If only things went that easily. Instead, he quickly realized not everyone understood how to maintain a decent sense of decorum and in his absence over the last two weeks, something had occurred to draw the attention towards him. Where he used to move around the pristine space almost autonomously, that morning he passed through a series of whispers from the pods around him. At first, Severus did his best to ignore them - figuring they were simply trying to satisfy their own morbid curiosity about their colleague's ill child - but the further he went towards his pod near the back, he couldn't ignore the hushed talk, including small snippets of the rumours which didn't always include the Boy-Who-Lived's name.

"Welcome back," Arlie Clagg, his closest laboratory colleague, greeted, confirming something was going on since the two wizards hardly ever spoke to one another despite sharing a workspace. Today he would be working with the Durmstrang alum and two other potioneers he didn't recognize. The witch on his left gave him a friendly nod and her cheeks flushed when he didn't return it.

"Do I even want to inquire about the issue everyone seems to have this morning?" He practically demanded as he flourished his wand to light his cauldron, simultaneously removing the stasis spell from the previous day's work.

"Uh," Arlie peered around the room at the stares they were all receiving from the other pods. His eyebrows crinkled, then he turned his focus back to his own cauldron and answered with a murmured, "they didn't expect to see you back here."

"And why is that?" Severus gave a hard sigh. "My career doesn't simply end because I have an ill child to tend to."

"Malfoys' rules," the only witch of their pod spoke up. She hadn't addressed him when she said it, rather spoke into her notebook as she hastily wrote out her latest findings. Intrigued and slightly offended, Severus eyed her hoping for some extrapolation to her statement. Finally, she lifted her eyes at the professor - turning it in a way which reminded him of Hermione's know-it-all mannerisms - and added, "There's a zero-tolerance policy on attendance in the laboratory. We all signed it when we started here… or you should have anyway. Mr Malfoy's very careful about keeping his processes and formulas protected."

He blinked as he waited for her to aid in making the connection his brain couldn't solve. When the tension built up so much Arlie uncomfortably cleared his throat in an attempt to either push the conversation forward or get them back on task, Severus asked, "What does my attendance have to do with preserving the integrity of our work?"

"People who are unreliable to show up regularly and on time are more likely to find work elsewhere," she answered, so matter of factly he assumed she had no clue who she was talking with or anything about his previous life.

Presumptuous like Miss Granger as well.

"My arrangements with Luc-" he caught himself and paused to recollect his thoughts. "My arrangements with Mr Malfoy are no one else's business, not to mention any of us would be a fool for believing we could replicate this process, as efficiently, elsewhere. So if any of you feel as if I'm jeopardizing our work here, do speak up now."

All three of his fellow pod mates silently shook their heads.

"We don't have any issues, Severus. If Mr Malfoy says you're clear to enter, then you're fine with us," Arlie reassured him.

"Perfect," Severus retorted, pulling from his cloak his folder with all the notes regarding Harry's medications. Spending a week immersed in the muggle medical world had its merits, after all, and to help balance his anxiety with Harry, he'd taken to reviewing a wide range of books from the AYA library on chemotherapy as well as discussing the specific medications with everyone he could. "I imagine these notes and copied texts from the muggle hospital library will be of some assistance to us?"

The other three potioneers flooded over to him and his resources, determined to find some way to fill the gaps where Severus knew they were deficient. Without the background of muggle molecular biology and biochemistry, they all knew they didn't stand much of a chance at making a potions chemotherapy that could be as effective with less hostile side effects, and therefore needed all the help they could get their hands on. Their questions to him about what he'd learned and any information he could provide them instantly changed the dynamic in the pod. A thorough review of how Harry's new chemotherapy regimen worked compared to his old one - how getting a lower dose of the strongest medications over a longer timeframe provided the young wizard more medication overall, a technique called hyperfractionated - sparked an hour and a half long brainstorming session on how to tweak their potions in a similar fashion. Could they create a more efficient regimen by making smaller, stronger doses taken three times a day versus the current two, providing a cumulative effect from the patient's magic? The search for the answer was exactly what Severus needed to pull his attention away from the whispered comments surrounding him whenever he made trips to the cupboard or be able to ignore the pity in the eyes of his own pod.

Lunchtime came sooner than Severus expected it would and despite his latest rapport with his teammates, he still ate alone, tucked away in the corner pouring over a text on Middle Eastern folklore. With the confirmation of Obcasio found on the window, he wanted to be as informed as possible should Dr Swanson's Unspeakable brother actually decide to meet with him. The chances were slim, he knew, especially if the highly regulated soil ended up being stolen from the Department of Mysteries in the first place. He wouldn't be able to make that assumption, however, so things would be simpler if the brother agreed.

As with his morning, whispers and murmurs floated around him, but no one dared to make the unwise decision to approach him; at least until the hour directly after lunch as Severus waited for the young associate potioneer to weigh his requested powdered fluxweed for his pod's latest brew.

"Oh, look vhat der kneezle dragged in," a voice with a thick German accent taunted him from behind. All Severus knew of the man was that he worked three pods over on the Dragon Pox vaccination project. The last Severus heard, they had been making good progress this month but were still struggling with giving the magical person the immunity to the wizarding disease without triggering a full-blown immune attack.

"Very creative," Severus sneered, turning to face a wizard roughly his own age and size, although quite a bit heavier than the professor. He turned back to verify he wasn't blocking the path to the cupboard, then declared, "I'm not in your way, so I'd suggest you go around and leave me be."

"Ahnd vhy vould I do a sing like zat?"

Severus watched the young wizard weighing out his ingredients, his own teeth grinding at the supposed threat. If he wasn't blocking the other man's path, there was only one reason for the open hostility: to elicit a response out of Severus. Refusing to give the other wizard the satisfaction, Severus shook his head and turned back around to wait on his powdered fluxweed. Suddenly, a hand pulled hard on his shoulder, turning him around in the process and instantly putting the former spy on the defense. Quickly thinking how dangerous it would be in the laboratory, he fought the urge to grab for his wand, but his hand still hovered over its location in his robes; waiting to be brandished should it be needed.

"I didn't say ve vere done talking," the German wizard exclaimed. "You see? My team lost our best brewer because of you. Because Mr Malfoy refused to leafe your pod down one headcount in your ahbsence."

"Your staffing issue also has nothing to do with me," Severus pointed out. The tension between the two facing wizards grew exponentially.

Taking half a step towards Severus, his accuser stated, "You should be gone... just like eferyone else. Zen he could find a real replacement for you ahnd leafe der rest of us be!"

"As I said-"

Another threatening step was taken towards the professor.

"But no… You're Malfoy's little bitch ahnd he can't let you out of his grasp-"

Without thinking - something Severus would later chalk up to his mood leaving him too agitated to think clearly - he wound his arm back and sent it flying into the German wizard's face. Severus certainly didn't need his crystal clear hindsight to know he should have walked away; left his ingredients to collect once cooler heads prevailed. Instead, the moment the other wizard crossed the line the stress inside of him snapped. Even in his youth, Severus hadn't been a physical fighter, opting for his wand whenever possible to shoot a hex or curse over at James Potter or Sirius Black, but sometime in his Death Eater days, he discovered his fists to be superior at releasing his pent up aggression more than his magic.

The returned punch didn't surprise him. However, its delay did, having caught his assailant enough by surprise to be unprepared to retaliate immediately. It caught him on his jaw, though Severus wouldn't feel the sting until the bruise started to form sometime later. With a scowl on his face, he reached for his wand, ready to get the upper hand, except he didn't come close to pulling it from his robe when another set of hands grabbed him by his shoulders and started dragging him away from his instigator. Unlike what he would experience if this occurred at his other place of employment - surrounded by a pool of teenagers - no one in the laboratory paid the two brawling wizards any attention as they were separated from each other and escorted towards different exits.

"You can release me," Severus attempted to pull himself from Thomas's - the security guard who worked the front doors on Saturdays - grasp. "I'll go quietly."

"No can do, Mr Snape," Thomas said regretfully, "we're under strict orders when altercations occur to either bring them to Mr Malfoy's office immediately or remove them from the premises. You're in luck Mr Malfoy is unavailable at the moment, he's hardly moved from his office all week, except this morning left the country for other business. I'll have to notify him, though… I hope you understand it's nothing personal."

By this point, Severus had been fully removed from the building and Thomas finally released him. The dreary Wiltshire day matched his mood perfectly, and he gave a sad chuckle at the irony of the spitting rain coming down onto him.

"Go home, Severus," Thomas instructed, sorrow laced in his voice. "I'm sure Mr Malfoy will follow up with you on the next steps of the protocol. Try not to sweat it, though, I'm sure he'll give you some leniency with everything going on."

"Just what I need," the professor sarcastically growled.

Too numb from the altercation to logically analyze the situation, Severus sullenly made his way to the apparition point beyond the security wards. He needed to get some bruise salve for his jaw and he'd meet with Lucius next week. Beyond those two things, he couldn't process anything else. It helped that his shift had almost ended anyway and he wouldn't be back next weekend, giving him plenty of time to figure out how to move forward from the mess he got himself into, and until then he could tuck the incident away in mind.

From when he left Thomas to exiting the wards, Severus changed his mind half a dozen times about cancelling his date with Mae that evening. They were only planning on going for a quick dinner, but given the day he had, he wanted nothing more than to go back to Hogwarts, heal his jaw, and go to bed; none of which included socializing with anyone. A half a second away from disapparating, though, he acknowledged he couldn't exactly do any of that because Mae would be expecting to meet him outside of the clinic after her shift and therefore he had to go and cancel face to face before going home to end his dreadful day.

Trying to focus on something positive, by the time he made it to the clinic in Guildford, he had less than an hour to wait until Mae finished her shift. As tempting as it was, he resisted the urge to put a disillusionment charm on himself to save him from the wandering eyes of those coming and going from the plain building - unsure which drew the most attention: his all black transfigured muggle clothing, long black hair, bruised face, or all of the above - but he didn't want to risk missing Mae in the event she happened to get out early. Of course, all the best-made plans could quickly change and the sight of his girlfriend, still wearing her clinic scrubs and her hair more frazzled than he'd ever seen it, tore straight through his harsh exterior, replacing it with an emotion he couldn't even begin to process.

"Lemme guess," she said with a nod to his bruised jaw, "the other bloke is worse off?"

"Not exactly," he rubbed the raw skin wishing he stopped by Hogwarts to heal it before coming.

Her face fell. "Accident at the lab?"

"You were closer the first time."He stood to meet her, running his hands up her arms and leaning down to give her a soft kiss on her lips.

"Are you still up for dinner tonight? I completely understand if you're not," she offered, and Severus would never be able to describe the appreciation he had for her when she didn't dig any deeper into the incident.

"I would love to still have dinner with you."

"Then how about we go to my place instead?" Mae wrapped her arm around his waist and without waiting for his response, started leading him on the trek back to her flat. "I'd much rather order takeaway and watch a movie."

The yellow glow from the streetlamp outside of Mae's window shined directly into Severus's eyes as his head laid on his girlfriend's plush pillow in her bed; her bare back pressed firmly against his equally exposed chest, and his arms tightly wrapped around her shoulders. He wanted to ask her how the obnoxious light didn't constantly bother her as she tried to sleep there every night but his mind was still too hazy to formulate the words and send them from his brain to his mouth. If he were back home, an easy wave of his hand - or more likely his wand in his current state - would instantly draw the curtains closed, alleviating his conundrum. Here though he'd either have to trust his wobbly legs to carry him to the window or shift his body to avoid the bright light, neither of which he wanted to do in his current state. In the end, he tightened his embrace around Mae, resting his cheek against hers, and breathed in the coconut scent of her body soap as he gently kissed the tender spot down on her neck. As expected, she laughed. Not a soft giggle one would anticipate after the intimate moment they just shared, but a hard laugh he found oddly endearing - a sound and emotion he clung onto with all he had.

The light trace of Mae's fingers along his Dark Mark sent a shiver down Severus's spine. No doubt his scruffed up appearance greeting her after work triggered her renewed interest in the symbol. As she was currently laying upon that arm, he resisted the urge to pull it out from under her to get away from her scrutiny over his ugly "tattoo" regardless of how vulnerable it made him feel.

"Is it me or is it getting lighter?" She curiously whispered, her fingers never leaving the outline of the snake's body.

"It's probably the damn light from the street playing games with your eyes," he tried to persuade her, knowing muggle tattoos weren't imbibed with magic and therefore don't fade to the level he hoped his Mark would. Under typical circumstances, it wouldn't be an issue as Severus still wore long-sleeved shirts to cover it, but Mae had the personal position of seeing him without his shirt on and would certainly take notice of its eventual deterioration over time. "Perhaps if you moved your bed to the other wall, you could get some reprieve from its constant glare."

His answer seemed to satisfy, or at least distract, her enough because Mae turned around until her brown eyes met his own and gave him a crooked smile.

"I know it's weird, but I like that light shining in," she told him. "It reminds me I'm not in Cambridge anymore."

That he could wholeheartedly understand. He used to feel the same way whenever he woke up in the Slytherin dungeons as a student there. As an adult, he never understood why he chose to torture himself by living in the childhood home he used to flee at every available opportunity. At first, he convinced himself the original reason was that it made no sense to invest in a house he lived in only two months out of the year, and now it was because it had become his and Harry's first home. For whatever reason, his jail became Harry's place of solace, and he couldn't let that go. Surely Dr Snyder could come up with a more colourful set of reasons why - a masochist who had sins to atone for would be his best guess - but ultimately he'd not be interested in hearing any of them from the muggle psychologist.

"When did you join the…" she trailed off, once again tracing his Mark. He knew exactly what she was trying to ask and no matter his feelings on the subject, he felt he owed her an explanation on it.

"I was eighteen," his voice sounded foreign to him as he spoke, "my mother had recently died while I was away at boarding school. They promised me the power to stand up against my father when I returned home, and as a young, foolish child, I believed them."

Rolling over onto his back, Mae shifted to give him a soft kiss on his lips then nestled herself into the crook of his arm. Staring at the white ceiling in silence, allowed him a little relief from the street light illuminating the left side of his face. Although Severus had been in Mae's bedroom after their date to see Titanic at the cinema, he'd been more than a little preoccupied at the time to take in his surroundings. The soft yellow walls couldn't be seen in the currently dark room, but he remembered feeling a sense of calm wash over him both times they clumsily made their way into the room. It didn't surprise him that her queen-size bed was clad with a set of white linens - half of which currently sat on the floor, the other half covering the couple - adorned with grey overlapping circles rather than a floral or any other overly feminine pattern. The latter honestly wouldn't fit her boisterous personality. The rest of the room fulfilled her needs well enough: space for a set of drawers with an attached mirror on the wall across from the window, two side tables framing the bed, and a medium-sized wardrobe across from it. Similar to his home at Spinner's End, neither bedroom upstairs had an attached lavatory, requiring them to share the decently sized one in the corridor between their rooms.

"How were you able to get away from them?" Her questions should have perturbed the normally private man, but, outside of having gotten used to her nosiness, he had shown up to their date with physical evidence of an altercation. If he wanted to be truly honest with himself, given the day - the week, the month - he had, he welcomed someone else taking a real interest in his life.

Sighing, he ran his free hand over his face and replied, "I did something… unforgivable … a couple of years after I joined them. Though it placed me into the leader's good graces, it also served as my-" his face grimaced in the memory of the prophecy, "-sign to leave. I was able to get in touch with the headmaster at my school, who ended up giving me my teaching position and a way out. And I've been working there ever since, though once Harry's done I have no intention of returning. I'll never truly repay my debt to him or those I've hurt, but I also know it's a burden I need to learn to live with."

An oversimplification if he'd ever heard one. Under the circumstances, he couldn't reveal how he went to work as a spy for essentially a rival gang - one dedicated to helping society, but still unsanctioned by any legal entity - so he would have to hope it assuaged her curiosity, if only temporarily.

"You were lucky, y'know? Not everyone can get out, let alone secure a job and protection from it," she looked up at him with a worried filled gaze. "Jess did the majority of her training in a hospital close enough to Tottenham to see all sorts of gang injuries through their A&E… a lot of them kids like you were too. We don't get as much of that around here, but occasionally someone will show up and she always knows before seeing the symbols. It's bad and… well, most of them don't make it. And even if they do get out of A&E alive, they don't survive long when they're back out on the streets."

"I promise you," he said, pouring as much reassurance as he could muster into his words, "that part of my life is long gone and over. I am safe, Harry is safe, and you will be safe with me."

It was a promise he didn't know if he could keep, nevertheless he would do everything in his power to do so.

"I know," she arrogantly replied. "I just hate that you felt you had no other options."

He gave a sad chuckle. No, he had another option and he threw it away in his fifth year by letting his anger get the best of him; not too unlike he did at the laboratory earlier that day. He seemed destined to push away everything good within his life.

"I think I love you," the proclamation came so suddenly, he wished he could disapparate right then and there.

"Oh, you think? After two months of seeing each other, and then, of course, this, the best I get is 'I think'-"

Understanding her teasing came from her own exposed feelings, Severus quieted her with a kiss on her lips, which they mutually deepened; both trying to convey the feelings they felt too scared to share. When the kiss ended, the couple lay silent as they took a moment to catch their breath.

"I love you too, Sev," Mae said, her face flushing in embarrassment.

He laid there in her bed, holding on tightly to the one good, tangible thing he had in front of him, time feeling as if it simultaneously came to a standstill and rushed by him. His arm had long lost feeling from his girlfriend resting on it, yet he didn't care a bit. If he had the chance, he would stay there forever; just the two of them. But eventually, his intuition took hold of him and he knew he'd been there far longer than he anticipated when they were only supposed to be meeting for dinner… of course, this wasn't exactly how he planned for it to end either. Harry would have returned from Hogsmeade hours ago and while he hoped the young wizard would navigate his way post-dinner and into bed, the child was his responsibility and Harry hadn't exactly been taking the best care of himself as of late.

"I have to get back to the school," Severus regrettably stated, not wanting to leave Mae's side. He moved to release his arm from underneath her and leaned over to look at the digital clock on her bedside table. The red digits showed it was half-past nine, confirming the late hour.

"I wish you didn't have to go," she whined as he pushed himself up and out of bed, wrapping the loose sheet around his waist to provide a bit of privacy, no matter how juvenile it seemed given their recent activities. He didn't tell her he wished he could stay too, or rather he wished she could come back to the school with him, no matter how much he wanted to. It would only remind him how separated their worlds felt and how torn it left him.

She didn't get up with him to redress right away, instead, she watched him from the bed while he fumbled around the dark room - the blasted street lamp his only source of light - to find where his clothing had been thrown around the small bedroom. She laughed, this time more of a giggle when he failed to find his trousers and ended up searching the room in his unbuttoned black shirt and undergarments. The irony of his inability to summon the pair wasn't lost on him and for the second time that night, he wished he could use magic.

"Seriously," Severus finally exclaimed, half-jokingly, after he felt he'd searched everywhere possible, "did you hide them somewhere so I wouldn't be able to leave?"

Another hard laugh, but Mae did move up from the bed and began to dress to help him search for his elusive clothing. "And when do you think I would have had time to do a thing like that? Before we ended up in bed together? Or maybe during?"

He raised a single eyebrow at her interesting statement. If she were magical, after all, it would have been an easy thing to do even as distracted as they both were. Sure to be overanalyzing her question, he completely missed Mae starting to search the room or when she announced she'd found his trousers tucked up underneath her wooden bed frame.

"What's this thing glowing?" She tossed his trousers over to him - which he didn't have any hope in catching in his inattentive state - then kneeled to reach back under the bed. The professor had barely gotten the pair up his legs when all of the blood drained from his face at the sight of the illuminated orange ball in Mae's hand.

Harry's sphere!

"I have to go," he quickly finished dressing - not noticing the misaligned buttons on his shirt -, grabbed the sphere from her grasp, and stormed from the room. Dread and regret filled him with each step he took; the former because he didn't know how long Harry had been trying to reach him, and the latter because he didn't want to leave.

Severus made it to the bottom of the stairs before Mae managed to catch up with him. "Severus, wait!" She practically screamed. "What's going on?!"

She ran around him to block his way out of the front door. Tightly wrapping herself in a blue fuzzy robe, he intently looked into her eyes recognizing the fear she had; for him, not from him, he duly noted.

"I can't explain it to you right now," he strategically told her, "but I know Harry needs me. You'll have to trust me on this one."

Her gaze shifted between his eyes - to the right, left, then back to the right - until she nodded, "Of course… go."

He paused long enough to give her a quick kiss on her lips, then hurried out of the door. Severus rushed down the parkway to find a place to disapparate back to Spinner's End - having decided in a split second that he should floo to his quarters in the likely scenario Harry was in his bedroom - paying no attention to the woman walking towards him, who he subsequently knocked into, shoulder to shoulder. He didn't slow down or turn around as he continued on his journey; not to give the woman an apology for running into her and not when he barely heard the voice of Jessica announce, "What the bloody hell is wrong with him tonight?!"