Smoke and Mirrors by JewelBurns
Summary: Sequel to The Choices We Made.

With Voldemort dead and Harry's cancer settling life should be returning to normal for Harry and Snape but things aren't always as they seem. Instead they find themselves challenged in new ways. When dangerous events start after Harry's return to Hogwarts can Snape figure out what's going on before they're torn apart again? HPSS mentor Healing/Coping
Categories: Parental Snape > Guardian Snape Main Characters: .Snape and Harry (required), Draco, Dudley, Hermione, Original Character
Snape Flavour: Snape Comforts, Snape is Depressed, Snape is Desperate, Snape is Kind, Snape is Loving, Out of Character Snape, Overly-protective Snape, Snape is Secretive
Genres: Angst, Drama, Family, General, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery
Media Type: None
Tags: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Azkaban Character, Hospitalization, Injured!Harry
Takes Place: 7th summer, 7th Year
Warnings: Alcohol Use, Character Death, Out of Character, Romance/Het
Challenges: None
Series: Choices We Made Universe
Chapters: 84 Completed: No Word count: 697412 Read: 514940 Published: 15 Nov 2020 Updated: 30 Sep 2023
The Werewolf and The Metamorphmagus by JewelBurns

~~~SS~~~~

Wednesday, 12 November 1997

"The story surrounding the tragedy last Friday involving local surgeon, Matthew Taylor, thickened in the overnight hours when authorities obtained exceedingly interesting footage of the victim taken earlier the day of the accident. For those just tuning into this unusual story, the young physician was injured, and later killed due to the injuries sustained, when a scaffold filled with equipment collapsed on him at a construction site near the Guildford Hospital where he worked.

"The recent footage showed an individual, who has been positively identified as Taylor, entering Metro Bank merely four hours before his untimely death. According to the bank teller on duty the morning in question, outside of the physician's request to close all of his accounts, nothing appeared out of order and he was able to produce the required identification…"

Severus sat stretched across his sofa bed in Harry's room with his feet crossed at his ankles, a book he borrowed from the AYA library on molecular biology propped up on his lap when the television he kept on to provide some ambient noise switched to the mid-morning news. Interest piqued by the main headline, the professor dogeared his current page, then placed the book down onto the table to his right, swapping it for the muggle television remote. Slowly, he clicked the volume up by two; just enough for him to hear exactly what the muggle authorities thought they discovered without disturbing Harry out of his restless sleep in the hospital bed on the other side of the table.

For Severus, the prior two and a half days passed by in a complete blur of doctors and nurses shuffling into the room at all hours of the day and night. Unsurprisingly, the itchiness Harry experienced shortly after his second medication started on Sunday eventually turned into a blistering rash covering most of the teen's small body. Although the rash alone was enough to push Severus to the edge, when Harry got a wet cough reminiscent of his bout of pneumonia a year ago, in the overnight hours, Severus found himself almost losing control again. It cost Harry another half-day delay in his treatment, but thankfully the myriad of tests done ruled out an infection as the cause and, eventually, Dr Swanson deemed the fever to be chemotherapy-induced; allowing him to cautiously proceed with his regimen.

On Monday night, only halfway through the worst of his medications yet, the young wizard added joint pain, a sore throat, and stomach pains - complete with nausea and vomiting - to his ever-growing list of maladies. By then, Severus needed to use every modicum of discipline he had not to rip out the IV lines and take Harry straight home. Reminding himself the chemotherapy was there to help, not harm, he settled for snapping his discontent towards anyone who tried to reassure him that all of these reactions were common for this regimen. Severus didn't give one damn of what, or how common, the possible side effects were, all he cared about was doing anything and everything to relieve his child of the pain.

The days flowed from one to the next taking their toll on both wizards in very different ways. Christopher visited Harry's room on Monday evening and then again Tuesday morning but in contrast to the last cycle where Harry perked up whenever the Child Life Specialist arrived and welcomed the distractions his cart of activities brought, this time the sick teen hardly noticed the other man's presence during either visit. Severus's heart broke watching the shell of the usually vibrant Gryffindor counting down until it all ended, unable to do much to help him. Determined to stay with Harry through it all, Severus really only left for a necessary cup of coffee or to grab a snack in the ward kitchen, and rarely got more than two or three hours of broken sleep - four at the most when one of the nurses finally sent him to the library for some undisturbed rest last night. At seven o'clock the previous night, the young wizard finally finished the last dose of his second phase and was now more than halfway into the final chemotherapy medication for his inpatient stay of Cycle B; a continuous infusion lasting until five o'clock this evening. Naively, Severus expected to see the side effects begin to subside to a more manageable level after the medication change, but thus far the results had been rather unsatisfactory.

Giving one more quick check on Harry to make sure the louder volume hadn't woken him, he swung his legs off of the sofa bed and turned his attention back to the television:

"Authorities became highly sceptical of this new information after the Guildford hospital staff made a statement confirming Taylor was performing surgery around the time this unknown individual seamlessly took over the surgeon's identity to empty his bank accounts. Although the case has not yet been officially ruled a homicide, unless police can find a plausible explanation for a single person to be in two places at the same time, foul play was likely involved…"

"Polyjuice," Harry's tired, crackling voice from the hospital bed startled Severus. Quickly clicking off the television, he approached the bed trying, in vain, to keep a positive expression upon his face. If the Gryffindor recognized the professor's distress, he didn't react to it. Instead, Harry feebly shook his head and continued his train of thought obviously triggered by what he overheard on the news report. "It lesss you be'en two places… but tastes like…"

Harry trailed off mid-sentence, and Severus calmly waited to see if he'd continue. Yes, he knew all about Harry and his friends' polyjuice endeavours, an act which still occurred in his old reality although his son hadn't partaken in it. Severus swallowed back his emotions remembering it being over the Christmas holiday where he asked to adopt his Harry. A single act solidifying the permanent difference between his two realities.

Glancing back down, Harry's eyes started to close once again. Deciding to go back to his bed and the stack of muggle medical journals sitting on the floor, he stopped in his tracks when the words Harry moaned finally trickled into his head. Polyjuice. Despite being said in a complete state of ambiguity, the idea wasn't unsubstantiated. The potion absolutely could facilitate an individual to be in two places at the same time, though it wouldn't automatically give the impersonating individual access to the correct identifications needed to close the unsuspecting victim's accounts.

Unless they were partners.

As easy of an answer as it sounded, it still didn't account for why the supposed muggle - although Taylor being connected to a potion would more or less confirm him as a wizard - surgeon used Polyjuice to send someone else to empty his own bank accounts? What did he have to gain out of the act? And how did his death play into the equation? Was it just a coincidence after all? The former spy rarely believed in coincidences, and death by a random construction accident hours after draining his bank account definitely fell within 'coincidental territory'.

"Mornin' Sev'rs."

The professor promptly tabled those thoughts, returning to the bedside at the sound of Harry speaking again. Although the two words were said as if he had no recollection of his previous, albeit short and one-sided conversation moments ago, the current lucidity in them sent a shock of comfort and hope straight into Severus's core.

"I'm afraid it's closer to the afternoon than the morning." Severus's voice lurched as he peered down at the ill teenager. Still exceedingly pale with dark circles lining his eyes, he didn't appear nearly as "well" or "out of danger" as the nurses claimed during their last check-in. Harry's glassy, unfocused eyes watched the professor reach his hand down to carefully feel the young wizard's thankfully cool forehead. "No fever," Severus unconvincingly announced, taking notice of Harry's laboured breathing. "How are you feeling?"

The Gryffindor winced as he swallowed, a sign of his still sore throat likely caused by his mouth sores and vomiting, and shook his head. "Like shite," he mumbled. Severus delicately placed Harry's glasses upon the teen face, resisting the urge to admonish his child for the language. He most certainly earned the right to describe it as such after everything he'd been through. "M'tired and my-" Harry pushed himself up in his bed accepting Severus's assistance, a loud groan slipping from his throat in the process, "-body hurts. I think I feel better than before, though, so I guess that's good."

Severus peered over his shoulder at the IV station determining how much of his current state came from the half dozen medicines continuously pumping into him. "You're on heavy painkillers and steroids right now."

For the longest time, the pair made no move to acknowledge Severus's statement and had the professor not been facing Harry, he might have assumed the young wizard fell back asleep.

"I want to go home." A small sniffle followed Harry's sorrowful declaration. "This cycle has been complete bollocks."

Leave it to Potter to go from barely conscious to asking to leave in the same breath.

Although Severus agreed with both notions made, they came with a hefty side of paralyzing fear fueled by the conversation the pair had in the predawn hours on Sunday morning. Having to face the reality of experiencing this cycle three more times if things went well - a proclamation Severus no longer believed probable, yet he held onto to with all of his might or else he'd find himself falling apart again - would be a harsh reality for Harry to accept; perhaps harsher than even his relapse or missing remission. To make matters more complicated, given the struggles Severus personally saw over the last three days, should Harry decide he didn't have the fortitude to continue through the regimen, he might actually agree to stopping. It inevitably put more significance on seeing a substantial decline in his blast count at his next bone marrow biopsy at the end of the month. For him to see all of the pain he lived through literally working to rid the cancer out of his bones would boost his morale enough to keep going. However, a weak result - regardless if he hit remission levels - might tip the scales towards Harry making a potentially fatal decision in a moment of weakness.

Dr Swanson won't allow it. The bold reminder made little difference in easing the professor's anxiety surrounding the realistic prospect of Harry declining to continue his treatment. Unsure what he'd do in the situation, he tucked the thought - and the sudden memory of his son's final weeks - as far away in his mind as possible.

"So what's going on now?" Ever the brave Gryffindor, Harry attempted to sit confidently tall. Severus, nonetheless, saw right through him, recognizing the doubt and apprehension written all over his pallid face.

"As of yesterday evening, you've completed the more... severe… chemotherapy. The current one ends in roughly seven hours and it's one you've been on many times already, albeit-"

"-in a stronger dose," Harry interjected, providing the phrase they'd heard Dr Swanson tell them too many times.

"Exactly. Theoretically, you should handle this one better than the other two." Feeling awkward standing idly by the bed, Severus resettled the fallen green blanket onto the teen's chest to give his hands something to do. "Unfortunately your counts have been extremely low, but they've finally started stabilizing. However, even with the injection tomorrow morning to stimulate more white blood cells, you'll likely be required to stay several extra days… a week at the most."

"An extra week?" Severus knew the lack of vigour in the exclamation had more to do with Harry's exhaustion than his acceptance of staying significantly longer than anticipated. "And… Dr Swanson said that?"

"I'm afraid so, when she was here this morning," Severus replied, sadly. "But remember, her experience is not the end-all, be-all. It's still your body and this wouldn't be the first time you've surprised the medical or healing community with a shocking recovery. You are the only person to have lived through the killing curse, and twice at that."

"At least that was quick and didn't really hurt," he rubbed the exact spot Severus saw the green light hit him at Malfoy Manor in May, then slowly moved his hand to his forehead. "Well… not the second time. I don't exactly remember the first."

"I should think remembering once is plenty enough," Severus chided. "And I'd prefer you to have no other run-ins with the curse."

"No more heroically jumping in front of spells... check." Harry gave a half-smile and Severus could almost hear the absent, nervous laugh which on any other day would have accompanied it.

"Mr Snape?" The use of Severus's correct surname instantaneously narrowed down the list of nurses even before the professor saw Kathleen standing awkwardly through the cracked doorway, holding a muggle medical mask over her mouth. "Could I speak to you for a moment... in the hallway?"

Severus glanced back down at Harry. Somehow the young wizard managed to pale even further.

"What's this about?" He demanded. "If it's something regarding Harry's treatme-"

"No, it's nothing like that," she quickly cut him off. "It's more administrative than anything."

Severus's intuition flared at the odd explanation. The reasoning equally intrigued him and put him on alert, having already signed the required documents prior to Harry's bone marrow biopsy on Friday.

Making an assumption about the professor's hesitation, Kathleen turned back towards the corridor for a second, then offered, "I saw Christopher making his rounds somewhere on this side of the ward, so even if this does take longer than anticipated, Harry won't be alone for long."

Ultimately, without any real choice in the matter, Severus nodded and made his way out of the room. In the short distance, he scrutinized every possible scenario Kathleen might wish to discuss with him. Things like more paperwork to extend Harry's stay, a meeting with their social worker to discuss the pending adoption, a change to his treatment - although she'd likely not need to see him privately for this one - all came pretty naturally to his mind. What he hadn't expected was to see the least likely couple standing in the corridor directly to the left of the doorway waiting for his arrival.

"Lupin?" The former spy practically recoiled at the sight of the werewolf and his fiance standing in the muggle hospital. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

To their credit, the pair obviously made their best attempt to blend into the muggle world by donning a set of muggle clothing. Lupin wore a scuffed up pair of blue jeans, reminiscent of his more tattered robes in the wizarding world, with a grey long-sleeved dress shirt under an unbuttoned brown tweed jumper. Standing next to Tonks, in her black skin tight jeans and an equally snug purple jumper contrasting her deep blue short hair, they surely made an odd couple. Based on Kathleen's questioning glare, Severus had no doubt she was debating if their relationship fell under the romantic or parental category.

"I told you both to stay at the front desk until I had your authorization signed off," the nurse scolded the new visitors.

"It's quite alright, Kathleen," Severus waved down the nurse. "They're... friends… of mine and Harry's."

His current exhaustion made Severus more agitated than usual, meaning regardless of his recent revelation to himself about the werewolf transforming sans his Wolfsbane potion, the last word took some convincing to say on his part. Not because he still held the grudge of his youth, as Lupin surely believed, but because there were so few times the couple made an appearance when they didn't need something from him or Harry. Where were they after Harry owled them about his relapse diagnosis or as he struggled through the aggressive chemotherapy during either year? Severus might not have enough friends to be able to name the traits that make one, nonetheless, he knew exactly what didn't make a friend and these two were teetering on the fringe.

"I'm sorry since Harry didn't have a visitation preference completed, I needed to check first." Kathleen pulled two sheets of paper off the clipboard hanging on the outside of Harry's door and handed one each to Lupin and Tonks. "He's under enhanced sanitation procedures at the moment, so you'll need masks-" she pointed to the dispenser on the other side of the teen's door filled with the paper medical masks, "- and proper handwashing upon entering the room. Everything is outlined, in detail, on the paper I just provided. Have either of you been sick in the past seven days or around anyone who has been?"

As Lupin's eyes scanned the document in his hand, his eyebrows continued to rise, little by little. Remembering his first time reading through the thorough procedures, Severus understood how overwhelming he felt. It was one thing to be told to wear a mask and wash your hands, and quite another to have every single potential danger written out in front of you. Suddenly the directive of "proper handwashing" didn't seem so simple when paired with details on the appropriate water temperature, length of scrubbing time, and a stern reminder to wash between fingers, under fingernails, and up the wrist. In addition to the handwashing and mask requirements, the handout also provided reminders for visiting: don't touch any of the medical equipment since the medication will severely burn the skin, don't visit if you've been sick recently, and be flexible - fatigue or other side effects during chemotherapy might shorten or derail visitation plans, which absolutely applied to Harry today.

"Sir?" Kathleen prompted. "Have you or your… um… have either of you been ill recently? Common colds count."

"Oh," Lupin shook his head. "No… No, we are both healthy."

Severus narrowed his eyes on the couple. He had no clue of Lupin's current occupation, if any, nevertheless, as an auror Tonks could almost guarantee she came into contact with all sorts of unclean people on a daily basis. If they decided to stay and see Harry - a possibility seeming less likely based on Lupin's face contorting while reading through the hospital policies - he'd have to discreetly cast the sanitizing spell on them as they entered the room. Harry didn't need to contract a virus due to Lupin and Tonks's sudden growth of a conscience on top of everything else he faced.

Kathleen appeared just as unsure as Severus. "Return the badges on your way out," she eventually acquiesced and left them alone in the hallway.

Ready to get the visit over with, Severus gestured his head towards the closed door. "He's had a rough couple of days so let's keep this short. There's a good chance he fell back asleep at this point and I refuse to wake him-"

"Actually," the werewolf interrupted, neither of them following Severus's lead, "we came to speak with you."

"Excuse me?" Taken aback, the professor had no hope of keeping the pain on Harry's behalf off of his face. "Are you telling me you came for 'business purposes' and not to see the child who should have grown up like a nephew to you?"

"Oh, we want to see him too and, really, we should have come sooner," Tonks jumped in, protectively linking her arm through her fiance's. "There's just something rather urgent… and private, if you know what I mean... we need to discuss with you first."

Severus growled. He didn't like her answer, yet, his curiosity won out in the end. Without offering any pleasantries, the former spy pushed past the Auror and werewolf. "Follow me. The library will give us the best privacy and is typically clear at this time of day."

Lupin and Tonks followed a step and a half behind Severus as he guided them down the corridor. He huffed in frustration when they momentarily paused to peek into the window looking into The Hub - containing only a single patient working on a puzzle at the corner table - then proceeded to the next door: the library. First confirming the room was empty, the professor impatiently held the door open to allow his "guests" entry.

"This is a nice place," Lupin nervously rubbed his hands together, taking the spot directly on the other side of Severus in the quiet room, "given the circumstances, of course. I'm sure Harry would rather be at home."

"You have no idea," Severus grumbled, flatly.

"And you stay here with him then?" Lupin carefully questioned. "You sleep in his room?"

Severus opened his mouth to spit out his reply, but held back. Given the previous rumours filtering throughout the Prophet regarding his and Harry's relationship, he was unwilling to answer without first determining the ability of his former nemesis attempting to corner him into a potentially negative situation. Should it ever come down to Lupin's betrayal of Harry, Severus has no qualms in going to Lucius for help in completely burying the werewolf. Once Lucius was through with him, the Gryffindor would be lucky to be able to show his face in Diagon Alley. Satisfied, he continued.

"Yes, I do," he cautiously stated. "Harry's allowed one overnight support person and dare I say he's needed it every step of the way in this cycle, a fact you'd know if you bothered to check in on him."

Lupin nodded in response and Severus didn't need Legilimency to read the "You look exhausted" thought the other wizard wanted to say. Still, he unwisely commented, "That's fair."

"Why can't he use potions?" Tonks jumped in, more excitedly than Severus considered appropriate. "I was talking to my mum about him the other day and she said there are potions-"

"I know all about the damn potions!" Severus snapped. Tonks immediately flinched. Taking a deep breath, he gathered his composure. "As your previous Potions Professor, I'd hope you'd remember to whom you were speaking to, but apparently that's asking too much. Do you not think if potions - or any alternative treatment - were a viable option, he'd be using them?"

Tonks swallowed hard. "Then why isn't he?"

Severus ran his palm down his exhausted face. "Because these specific potions require the use of the patient's magical core to remove the cancerous cells and Harry's magic has been-" the professor scowled as he promptly pondered how much he wanted to give the auror, "- temporarily blocked. They'd be no more useful to him than a foul-tasting beverage."

"But why-"

"It was damaging him," he succinctly explained. The pair of confused eyes staring back had Severus add, "Harry's magic, that is. His healer suspected it played a role in his relapse, therefore to save his life we had to block his magic.

"But, apparently, you did not come here to talk about Harry," Severus grudgingly pushed on before either of them could ask how they'd done it, "so, what can I do for you? And how did you find us here?"

"Albus," Tonks answered. Her changed tone confirmed she was there on official, rather than personal, business. "We stopped by Hogwarts this morning hoping he'd have a way to contact you here and he said the only way was to visit. He gave us the address. I guess there are not too many ways to stay in communication with us when you're surrounded by muggles."

Interesting.

"That's correct," he lied, wondering why the Headmaster didn't just use the candle firecall method they devised to simply ask him to return to the castle? Unable to formulate a rationale for his own mentor's logic, he filed the observation away for later. "Still, it does not answer why you are here."

Tonks leaned forward, resting her forearms on the tops of her thighs. If she thought it made her appear any more personable, she was wrong. "I need you to come with me down to the DMLE. It's a rather urgent matter."

Perplexed, Severus filtered through all of the possibilities of what could demand his immediate presence at the Department of Law Enforcement. Far from a shortlist, the most obvious was his use of accidental magic on the window at Mae's, except he was relatively confident the ministry had no real way of tracking accidental magic in an adult wizard and even if they did, it likely wouldn't be handled by the Aurors. The fact they weren't flat out arresting him also seemed to support that claim.

"You have to know I need a reason first," Severus countered. "I'm not about to walk out of where I'm needed the most for something you may be able to ask of me here."

Tonks hesitated, chewing her bottom lip as Severus watched the wheels turning in her head. "It's about Draco," she told him. "I don't too have many details on it."

She didn't need to say anything else on the subject. Those first three words sucked the oxygen straight out of his lungs, plummeting a series of "what ifs".

"Is he alright?" The initial question flowed directly from his brain and out of his mouth, unable to stop even if he wanted it to. "Did something happen-"

"He's fine." Severus cringed. She had no way of knowing his disdain of her chosen word. "I haven't personally seen him yet. As you know, I'll be there next week, but we haven't received any reports of-"

"Reports mean nothing!" Severus slammed his opened palm against the table between them. The noise it created sounded exponentially louder in the otherwise still room.

"Oh, really?" The Auror challenged, not nearly as intimidated by his antics as he'd strived. "Then explain to me how you think I'd be coming to collect you to bring you to the Ministry so they can tell you about an incident which wasn't reported in the first place?"

Unfortunately, he followed her convoluted logic, yet Severus refused to validate her question with a response.

"I promise you," she continued more calmly, "all I know is the Malfoys' solicitor came into the office Monday afternoon on a complete warpath. Then yesterday Kingsley, Williamson, and even Sampson were all frantic over something or other… demanding copies and original documentation of Draco's arrest, most of which barely made it to the records department to be filed. When I got in this morning, Kingsley immediately assigned me to come collect you.

"Could the timing be a coincidence? Sure. But you won't know unless you come with me, and frankly, based on Kingsley's tone, if you don't the next step is probably Samson coming here to force you there."

"They found something." Severus released a shaky breath. Recognizing the statement for what it was, and not him asking for confirmation, she did not offer anything further. Severus covered his mouth with his hand, staring unseeingly at the door leading back to the corridor. "Harry…" he started trying to work through his next steps out loud; his brain was too muddled to think on it alone. "He's had a horrendous few days and I can't-"

"That's why I'm here, Severus," Lupin offered. "I'll admit I feel a bit... overwhelmed at the moment… but, I'll step in to help in any way I can."

Severus held back the instinctive scowl he wanted to give the other wizard. On the one hand, how dare Lupin waltz into this hospital, a place Severus and Harry might as well consider their third home for as often as they'd be there in the coming year, and assume he knew everything going on after being absent for so much of Harry's struggle. On the other hand, he grudgingly admitted the older Gryffindor had never hesitated to provide help when asked; and being asked was usually a required trigger. He was there when Harry came out of the surgery to place his port with only an hour's notice, he stayed with Harry on several occasions, most ending at least civilly, and he never complained when Severus forgot to send him his Wolfsbane potion, a courtesy to Harry more than anyone else and one he doubted the child even knew about it here. Ultimately, Severus knew he had to do everything in his power to get Draco out of Azkaban, and if it meant ignoring how close to the full moon they were to lean on the werewolf, then so be it.

"I need to be back by five o'clock this evening," he plainly stated the non-negotiable term for his compliance. "Harry finishes his chemotherapy for this cycle then, and I don't want to miss it. If it means walking out on the Minister himself, I won't hesitate to do so."

Tonks chuckled. "How about this? If it takes more than five hours, I'll personally interrupt Samson to get you outta there myself? Agreed?"

The professor rolled his eyes at her dramatics. Satisfied his concerns were understood and filled with a determination to help Draco, Severus stood and replied, "Let's go."

~~~~HP~~~~

The second Snape came back, Lupin walking sheepishly in his wake, Harry knew something big was going on. Outside of Remus's random appearance followed by Snape's announcement that the other Gryffindor would be staying with Harry while he "ran an errand", the evasive responses the professor gave regarding this errand pretty much confirmed it.

Still holding onto hope of Snape and Mae working out their issues, his first thought was Snape going to Mae's flat to apologize. Except it being a Wednesday afternoon, the muggle nurse would be working at Dr Swanson's office in the other wing of the hospital. Since that journey hardly required a substitute babysitter, he quickly ruled it out. When Tonks walked in impatiently asking if the professor was ready to go during Snape's lecture to Remus regarding Harry's current situation, the young wizard easily narrowed down the options to one of two legal issues: Draco's crime or Snape's accidental magic in front of Mae. As much as he hoped they found a loophole or some way to get Draco home sooner than a year, based on the professor's nervous demeanour and Tonks' close proximity to him, Harry feared it had more to do with Snape personally. What happened to adults who performed magic around muggles? Did they get thrown into Azkaban? Did it matter if the magic performed was accidental magic? His own trial had been for deliberately casting his Patronus against the dementors, but when he accidentally blew up Aunt Marge, absolutely nothing came of it. Involving muggles who were previously unaware of magic certainly complicated the circumstances. What if they obliviated Mae and she didn't remember them anymore?

They obliviated Aunt Marge, Harry panicked inside. But she definitely still remembered me afterwards... so maybe they don't erase everything.

As much as the idea of Mae not remembering him saddened him, it did logically explain her absence this week. Plus, if he were honest, a large part of him almost hoped it happened that way; obliviation meant she didn't voluntarily choose to ignore him.

"Are you going to eat?"

The question from Remus sitting in the reclining chair shook the young wizard out of his turbulent mental state.

"Is that all they gave you?" Remus leaned over to explore the tray of soft bland food on the small Harry's table above his lap.

Harry pointed to the cup of his typical high-calorie smoothie. "And I have the protein drink from home." At Remus's concerned expression, one which clearly looked as if the man was about to accuse the hospital of starving Harry, the young wizard explained, "Listen, everything tastes awful during chemo right now, so it doesn't really matter what I get. But, ah... the other day I got these bad sores all over my mouth, so I'm trying to only eat soft foods until they go down. If it makes you feel any better, I already ate the custard cup."

Based on the uncomfortable shifting of his former professor and how his brown eyes followed the lines leading out of Harry's shirt to the IV station, nothing about the room or hospital made him feel any better. In fact, Harry had to remind himself having lived his life in a magical household, the other wizard probably wasn't used to being surrounded by so much muggle technology. At the same time, imagining Remus growing up struggling with his own cycles of bad health made Harry disappointed by Remus's inability to see past the cancer and everything surrounding it. Where the older Gryffindor should have been able to relate to Harry's journey, he appeared almost afraid of it.

"So, what do you do while you wait for…" Remus waved his hand in front of the IVs. "What are those again?"

Harry shifted painfully in his bed, wishing his body stopped hurting so much and his brain was clearer to handle it all. Giving a weak smile at Remus's effort to take an interest, he walked his father's best friend - the last real link to his biological father - through the different medications he was currently getting as well as those he already received this cycle. The more he spoke, the more relaxed his visitor became, allowing Harry comfort in talking about his treatment; to be able to connect with someone else from his own world who wasn't nearly as close to the situation as Snape. Remus didn't hesitate to ask Harry to expand on areas he found interesting - like how the muggle IVs monitored how much medication he received over a given timeframe - or didn't quite understand, such as when Harry tried to explain his failed remission. Eventually, they found the cellular concepts of the bone marrow were far too complicated for Remus and, ultimately, all that mattered was the cancer's remaining presence, something even a full wizard could comprehend. Surprisingly, despite all of the negativity one might expect during a conversation such as theirs, Harry started to feel closer to Remus than he had since the pivotal shift in many of his relationships after the third task of the Triwizard Tournament.

"Well, I brought some books from home to read and I try to sketch as much as I can," Harry said, bringing them back to Remus's original inquiry. "Except my fingers and hands sometimes tingle so much, it's hard to hold the pencil still enough." He flipped his notebook open, landing on the last page he attempted showing the lines too far from straight for his liking. "See what I mean," he pointed out his mistakes, "And when that starts to happen, I know I'll not be able to do it again and end up watching the telly or something."

Remus gently pulled the book off of Harry's lap, flipping the pages with care. "I think you're being too hard on yourself. For being seventeen, this is still amazing work."

"It's alright," Harry shrugged, holding back a yawn. "So, how're the wedding plans coming along?"

As expected, Remus perked up. And why wouldn't he, just like seemingly everyone else in Harry's life, the man had found someone he wanted to spend the rest of his life with and he deserved to be happy talking about it.

"They're going well." Remus leaned back, crossing his ankle over his knee casually in a manner very similar to Snape. "Dora finally decided on 'the dress'… or rather gown, as I'm always being corrected… which ended up being a bigger event than I ever expected it to be. And we decided on the location. It's going to be outdoors under this magnificent oak tree overlooking a lake. Dora fell in love with it immediately."

Harry held his breath, pushing away his nightmare of Draco and Hermione's failed wedding. "It sounds beautiful," he managed to croak.

"It certainly will be."

"But?" The young wizard picked up on the slight hesitation in the last Marauder's voice. What did he really have to be bitter over? His perfect fiance? The wedding? Sure, Harry knew Remus had issues accepting good things in life with his Lycanthropy, but there were more important things to focus on. A lesson Harry learned the hard way.

"Oh, it's nothing serious." Remus waved him off. "I've come to learn there's not much for me to actually do with the wedding plans. Pick a colour of dress robes - standard black, if you're curious - and show up on the second of May ready to marry her. Honestly, though, I'd do it tomorrow without any of the fanfare... The outfits, flowers, and music. Just me, her, and our closest friends and family. That's all I need."

"Well, since I can't make it tomorrow," Harry replied, unable to hide the flicker of sadness laced under his words, "you might as well wait for all of that other girly stuff too."

Remus's face instantly turned a dark crimson. "Oh, Harry, I should have checked with you about your treatment schedule. We obviously looked at the full moon but..." the older wizard ran his hand nervously through his hair. "Do you know what it'll look like come May?"

I'd settle for being alive, Harry sullenly thought to himself. This cycle took as hard of a toll on his mental outlook as his physical one, and he had to work twice as hard as he ever had to reign it in. Glad not to have accidentally said the words out loud, he shook his head. "My whole schedule changed with the new regimen… erm, I mean the stronger medicines… so it wouldn't've mattered much had you asked me a month ago."

"And for this one? I'm certain we're early enough to adjust the date if need be. I want my best man to be there, after all."

Harry swallowed back a lump forming in his throat. "I have my full calendar at home, but didn't look much past Christmas..."

A wave of nausea caught Harry by surprise and he closed his eyes tightly against the beating of his heart banging against his chest. His sweaty hands clenched onto the side of his hospital bed, begging the feeling welling up inside of him to subside without any vomiting episodes. Remus's voice calling his name sounded far away, tucked beneath the whooshing of his blood in his ears. A hand - one slightly smaller and placed higher than where Snape's usually sat - fluttering against his back had him opening his eyes to a sick basin resting in his lap just in time to catch the sick rising up the back of his throat. With all of the times, random places, and spectators he'd vomited Harry no longer felt any shame in the act.

"It's alright, Harry… there you go." Oddly, as the episode subsided, Remus's soft words helped to calm him. "Here, drink this."

Had he been feeling better, Harry would've chuckled at how the command reminded him of his third year lessons with his former professor where he learned to cast his Patronus. Here eat this, you'll feel better. And just like in those lessons - this time with a cup of ginger ale in place of a piece of chocolate - Harry obediently sipped out of the offered cup, spitting the first two swigs into the basin to rinse his sore mouth, then ever-so-slowly swallowed the third to relax his clenching stomach.

The vomiting took the last small bit of Harry's energy, leaving him exhausted and on the brink of sleep, but not quite ready to let himself succumb to it. Unable to stay vertical, he rolled onto his side facing Remus, instinctively knowing if he turned the other way it'd tug awkwardly on his IV lines. Remus's sympathetic gaze bothered Harry, practically undoing the rapport they built throughout the afternoon.

Desperate to even the situation, Harry muttered, "How did you do it?"

"How did I do what?"

Harry's green eyes cracked open and tried to focus on the blurry outline of the man leaning over his bed, not remembering his glasses being removed. Through his laboured breathing, he clarified, "Keep goin' every month knowin' it's never goin' ta end… that next month you'll be righ' back there in tha same hell."

In the silent room, Remus's audible swallow sounded exceedingly loud. "Don't look to me as some kind of role model, Harry. I'm not proud of how I've handled my transformations," his normally even voice trembled as he spoke. "You've been so strong through all of this, if anything, it is I who should look at you as an example."

"It's hard. And I dunno how much more I'cn take," the teen slurred his words as he spoke, allowing his heavy eyes to blink closed. "Think 'm going to die, Remus. I can feel it…" he took another laboured breath, "...the poison inside me doesn't work. S'ok though.. s'my fate, right? M'not meant to live here either."

"I'm sorry, Harry," a layer of confusion poured onto Remus's words, "I don't understand what you mean when you say you're 'not meant to live here either'. Perhaps I should call your doctor-"

"Jus ask Sev'rus," Harry sleepily interrupted, forgetting who he was speaking to. "He s'knows all 'bout it."

A pregnant pause followed the almost incoherent declaration and when the older Gryffindor eventually spoke, Harry had to strain his tired ears to hear him, "I think I'll do that, Harry."

"Wanna go sleep now," Harry thought out loud, feeling his blanket being neatly tucked up around his chest, settling in right beneath his port. "You're not gonna tell me anything 'bout where my dad went are you? I 'ope he's ''elping Draco. Is he? I want Draco to come 'ome."

Another silent moment elapsed, but Harry had no hope in continuing to fight off his drowsiness to discover why.

"Go to sleep, Harry," Remus's voice slyly whispered, so close to Harry's ear the other older Gryffindor's warm breath tickled him. "Your... dad... will be back soon, and I'm sure he'll tell you all about it."

To be continued...
End Notes:
Coming Up Next: Saving Draco


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