~~~HP~~~

Friday, 28 November 1997

Recently, Harry needed to watch every single step he took, no matter where he went. He never noticed when it started. All he knew was since his last infusion, the same tingling plaguing his right hand slowly appeared in his right foot causing him to spend more time staring down at his trainers to be sure they had a firm footing before he shifted his weight from the back to front. Outside of his more cautious gait, if anyone else around him had picked up on the subtle change, they said nothing to him about it, but that didn't stop his awareness of yet another part of his body was being stolen by his disease and the count was wearing him down-

"You look tired, Harry," Luna quietly told him as she snaked her hand down between them to tightly clasp it into Harry's. Her physical touch brought him out of his dangerous thoughts and back out onto the chilly Hogwarts grounds. "Why don't we head back to your place? I can do this later, really. I don't mind at all."

Harry paused their meandering walk across down to the forest to face his newly minted girlfriend. Since the night of the Quidditch after-party, they'd spent most of her off periods together either sitting in the courtyard enjoying the crisp November air, playing Gobstones down in his rooms, or out feeding the thestrals - which was where they originally headed that afternoon. Harry enjoyed the time spent with Luna for more than just her company. She challenged him to view the world in new, unexpected ways and reminded him to search for the good hidden in everything around him.

From anyone else, Luna's observation about how he acted would have triggered Harry's tendency to lie and say he was fine, ensuring those around him he didn't need any special treatment or anything from anyone. Except, it wasn't just anyone asking this time. It was Luna, and during the past week, for reasons he stopped trying to understand, an odd wave of peace washed over him whenever he looked into her silver-blue eyes. The wave permeated deep into his soul to dissolve any vulnerability he had, in a much different way than he had ever experienced with Ron, Hermione, or even Snape. He quickly discovered the more he brought her into his unique world, the more comfortable he felt about confiding in her about his illness in the exact way Christopher and Dr Wright said he would when he started opening up to others, not that Harry would ever admit it.

"No, I'm alright to keep going," he quietly reassured Luna.

As he said the words, Harry didn't hide the layer of exhaustion laced in his voice. While he couldn't deny the week of steroids had taken its toll on his mind and body, the last thing Harry needed on a day like today was to sit alone in his room thinking because in a matter of hours, he'd be packing up - something Snape likely assumed he'd already done - for his third inpatient treatment. That alone would be enough to make him stir crazy, but on top of it, tonight he'd do another bone marrow test to see if the new treatment was working. No. He needed a distraction away from his uncertainties, and a reminder of why he was going through it all in the first place; for moments exactly like this.

"Honestly, it's just been a rough week and I have a lot on my mind," he explained. Slowly, Harry leaned in to place a small kiss on Luna's cheek. An action which caused the pale Ravenclaw to flush. "This helps, though… spending time with you."

"Did you want to talk about it?" Luna asked, motioning back to the courtyard where their relationship took its first turn. "I can practically see the wrackspurts going crazy around your head, like you need to let some steam out."

"Not really." Harry turned his eyes up to his forehead, knowing full well he wouldn't see any tiny creatures there. "What I need… erm, or more what I want... is to spend as much time with you as I can today and forget about the things the wrackspurts are seeing while zooming in and out of my head."

Luna remained so still, staring up at him with a puzzled look on her face, that Harry thought maybe he hadn't actually spoken out loud.

"I'd call it more of a flutter or a buzz than a zoom."

This time, Harry had no hope of containing his laughter. He allowed the joy he got from her simplicity to fill him up, in much the same way as when he pulled up a memory before casting his patronus.

"Buzzing, then," Harry chuckled. "It sounds better than something fluttering in my head."

"If you say so. Fluttering seems more magical to me," Luna shrugged. "It looks like it's going to rain this afternoon. We should try to make our trip brief. Thestrals don't enjoy being out in it any more than we do."

Harry shifted his gaze up to the clouds looming above them. He didn't exactly think the typical overcast November sky showed any more signs of future rain than any other dreary Scottish afternoon. Still, even if she were lying to make him feel better about changing their plans, Harry shivered at the thought of being caught at the edge of the castle grounds in the pouring rain. A fall rain brought the type of wet cold that would soak right through him, settling down into the middle of his bones where he'd be unable to push it out without the help of a warm shower. Suddenly, the thick cloak he always wore whenever leaving the castle heated up until he felt as if it wrapped him in a tight cocoon, but his comfort over the action was short-lived. Did Luna cast the spell on for him or was it his accidental magic breaking through as it had done occasionally this week? Although Harry's next shiver had nothing to do with the cold, he instinctively wrapped his cloak tighter around him.

"If we make it a quick trip, I'll be alright." Harry gestured down the hill, towards where the thestrals lived, needing the distraction more than ever.

Hand-in-hand, the new couple walked as fast as Harry felt comfortable across the grassy grounds. Luna took hold of the conversation, telling him all about the newest thestral addition he'd be seeing for the first time - a little colt who appeared almost out of nowhere. Naturally curious, Luna immediately asked Hagrid about it, but he'd only just learned about its arrival too. Hagrid explained to Luna how, given the circumstances needed to see the thestrals, combined with the stigma surrounding them, the wizarding world knew little about their breeding habits, launching Luna into her current obsession of studying them.

Outside of Harry's limited affinity for Care of Magical Creature - regardless of how much he enjoyed taking Hagrid's class - he had a difficult time concentrating on Luna's theories of thestral breeding because a consistent movement to his left kept distracting him away from her. It seemed every few steps they took, the grass two or three meters beside him shifted in a way far too coordinated to be the wind, and after watching it for a solid minute, Harry determined whatever it was, it was definitely following them along their path to the forest. Keeping a close watch on the area, Harry racked his brain for any logical reason for what he saw.

My invisibility cloak!

In his very short-minded thinking, it made the most sense to Harry despite the area of the grassy movement being too small to be one of his friends, and how he kept his coveted cloak tucked away in his truck at the foot of his bed in the dungeons where not even Ron - the quintessential Gryffindor - would dare to enter Snape's quarters uninvited.

"Harry?" Yet again lost in his thoughts as he watched whatever - or whoever - following them, Luna's unexpected hand on his shoulder caused the young wizard to jump and gasp. "I didn't mean to startle you," she hurriedly added. "I seem to do that a lot lately. Maybe the wrackspurts are causing more trouble than you think."

"I'm sorry, Luna," Harry said, keenly aware of how the grass stopped moving when they stopped walking. Giving the area one last check, he turned to face his girlfriend's worried expression. "What did you say? The wrackspurts must be blocking my ears."

"They do that sometimes. Not much you can do, unfortunately." Luna tilted her head in a way Harry found endearing. When he'd first met her in his fifth year, he thought the gesture made her look foolish - like she never knew what was going on during a conversation. Getting to know her better over the last year, however, he learned how she used the gesture as her unique way of connecting with the other person. "But what I asked you before is if you noticed Draco following us since we walked out of the courtyard."

"Wait, what? Draco?!" Gritting his teeth, Harry whipped his head back towards the last place he saw the grass movement. "I swear if that slimy git went into my room to steal my invisibility-"

Harry's sentence came to an abrupt halt when the reality finally caught up to him: Draco hadn't actually stolen anything from him. Instead, he needed to look for a tiny white kitten, not an invisible teen. At about the same time Harry realized his error, Draco materialized in front of them; thankfully still dressed in his Slytherin uniform. The boiling anger inside of Harry threatened to thrash out at his former nemesis for ruining his afternoon.

"What the hell, Draco? Were you spying on us?!" Harry curtly accused.

"You know, not everything is about you, Potter," Draco huffed. "And to think Hermione calls you humble? If she only knew the truth."

"You're not allowed to sneak around in your kitten form anymore," Harry snidely reminded him. "I heard Severus make you sign the contract saying so."

"False!" Draco pointed his raised finger so close to Harry that the Gryffindor swatted it away. "I'm not supposed to sneak into Hermione's room… or any other prohibited location… using my animagus form."

"You mean your kitten," Harry corrected. The jab didn't go unnoticed and Harry took a little too much pleasure in Draco's weak scowl in response. "So, if you're not spying on us, what are you doing here? Because I'm pretty sure you're about to be late for Defense and we both know how Severus would feel about that."

Uncharacteristically, Draco shifted his weight between his feet, silently telling Harry whatever the other wizard came to say or do, he was nervous about it. Then, in true Malfoy fashion, he quickly steeled himself, placing the same mask of indifference Harry had seen too many times on Snape.

"I came to ask if your offer to visit you at the muggle hospital is still open?" To his credit, Draco's grey eyes never wavered off Harry's while making the request. "You leave tonight for a week, right?"

"Should I feel flattered you remembered my schedule?" The response came out more sarcastic than intended, but he let it stand.

Draco glared at him. "Hermione's been reminding me about it all week."

"And you want to visit me there?" Unsure of his feelings at Draco's request, it was Harry's turn to shift his weight uncomfortably.

"Weren't you the one going on and on about how seeing all of this-" he waved his hand from Harry's head to feet, "-works will somehow magically set me apart?"

Of course, Harry remembered the conversation they had during one of those early Foundations classes. Back then, though, it felt like some obscure offer he didn't expect Draco to take seriously. Now, especially after this disastrous last inpatient treatment, the idea of having his friend there flat out scared him. If it went anything like last time, the last thing he wanted was for them to see him piss himself - or worse - because he couldn't get to the toilet on time.

"Well, I lied," Harry countered, not caring how petty or childish he sounded. The air between them thickened while they stood off, each waiting for the other to back down.

"What's it like?" Luna's soft voice, combined with her innocent question, deflated the growing tension between the two wizards like popping a balloon. "At the muggle hospital, I mean? I imagine it's quite different from St Mungo's without all the magic."

"It's rather boring if I'm being honest. I spend most of the time sitting around waiting for my meds to run their courses." Harry spat out the answer towards Draco. "Which is why there's no real reason for you to be there. You won't be able to do anything worth the trip into Muggleland."

"Muggleland? Are you serious, now?" Draco's chuckle dissolved the last bit of animosity between them. "Listen, Harry, Hermione's been on my arse about it, alright? She thinks it'll be a real 'step in the right direction' for turning around my image… which isn't exactly all bright and shiny after the whole Azkaban deal. I'm meeting with the Cambridge recruiter over the Christmas Holiday and she's adamant this will help me stand out in a good way."

For once, Harry actually agreed with him, but it didn't mean he had to like, or agree to, the situation. Giving Draco a once-over, Harry concluded if he had any ulterior motives, he hid them well.

"Will Hermione come too?" His voice hardly reached above a whisper.

"I'd prefer it if she didn't accompany me," Draco answered, bluntly. "However, if it's the only way you'll agree-"

"No!" Harry's interrupted exclamation echoed through the empty air around them. "Just you. And… maybe Dudley. He can help you get around all the muggle stuff, in case I'm too tired to play tour guide."

Harry watched Draco calculate his counteroffer, wondering what about it Draco might not agree to. Dudley had the least potential to interfere with whatever knowledge Draco expected to gain out of the visit, therefore there were no solid reasons Harry could think of for Dudley to be a deal-breaker. Draco's clenched high jaw and furrowed eyebrows told a different story.

"I am agreeable to your terms," Draco agreed, although he never reached out to shake on it in the proper pureblooded manner expected; a detail Harry would later hate himself for missing. "Which day works best for you? Tomorrow or Sunday?"

The minor consideration for his feelings on the matter lessened Harry's aggression significantly, which he assumed the Slytherin expected. Luna, having picked up on Draco's change of demeanor too, squeezed his hand in hers. Deep down, Harry appreciated Luna's ability to look beyond what someone portrayed on the surface and he urged himself not to judge others so quickly.

"Sunday works a little better." Harry nodded his head to convince himself as much as Draco. "I'll probably feel like literal shite, but there's more downtime if you want to go through the details of what's happening or go to the library there. Unless, of course, you want to see the gritty stuff behind several infusion changes."

"I'm looking to be a Healer, Potter, not a mediwizard," the Slytherin scoffed. "I need to know the science behind what's going on, not how to clean your bedpan."

"You know, now that you mention it, I should tell my nurse to give you a detailed description of how they place a catheter," Harry joked to lighten the mood between them.

"You can spare me the details."

"Suit yourself," Harry smirked. "Do you need me to talk to Severus about it tonight? He'll probably pick you up sometime around lunch so he can bring you back when he comes home on Sunday night to save an extra trip. Word of advice, bring some homework… non-magical… or something to do. You'll be there for a while."

"Go back a second." Draco's head snapped up. "Did you say Severus is coming back? As in, he'll be here for classes next week?"

"Erm… yeah." Harry frowned. "Something about Tonks being unavailable next week and-"

The bell ringing through the grounds - proclaiming Draco tardy for Defense - interrupted Harry. Typical for the Slytherin, he looked only mildly concerned about the situation.

He should really be more worried about Hermione's reaction than Severus's.

"Listen, we'll talk on Sunday, alright?" Harry picked up a hint of an emotion he'd never heard in Draco's before he had the chance to question it, Draco took off towards the castle with a hurried 'good luck tonight, Harry' yelled over his shoulder.

"He's become a good person," Luna softly said. "A good example of why people deserve a second chance."

"Who would've guessed, huh?" Harry gave an ironic laugh. "Draco Malfoy, the pureblood prince, asking to step foot into a muggle hospital. I just hope I didn't make a huge mistake."

"You didn't." Luna took Harry's hand and led them on their way to the thestrals; a destination Harry had already forgotten they were headed.

~~~~SS~~~~

"Stupefy!"

Miss.

"Incarcerous!"

Another miss, although at least it made it a little closer this time. Severus shook his head in disappointment.

"Expelliarmus!"

Hit, except, naturally, nothing happened; the enemy had no wand to give up.

Instinctively, Severus tightened his grip around the handle of his wand - taking comfort in the carved engravings he memorized over the last twenty-six years of welding it - waiting for the right moment to literally jump in to assist his students.

When he first took over the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, he never expected to struggle with how to balance his students' safety against his own desire for them to succeed in their assignment. From his perspective as a professor, Potion's lessons were simple. Right when it even looked as if an inexperienced hand might slip or grab the wrong ingredient, he would step in to prevent the disaster; albeit more firmly than he knew the students liked. He crafted his hard, authoritarian rules, mostly, out of the necessity of keeping his students safe. They were rules he knew as well as the carvings in his wand and he never had to actively think about any of them - he just reacted when the time came.

Defense, though, created a whole new challenge for the professor: how far to allow the lesson to run in order for the student in question to learn through experience? For the first time in his teaching career, Severus strived to give his students something tangible they could take out into the world when they left Hogwarts. He took his position seriously and wanted to do anything in his power to see them through during what would likely be his final year. It's why he constantly pushed their limits farther than normal, such as leaving them to face these creatures as independently as possible; especially considering this specific class had a foundation built on some of the least effective Defense instructors in Hogwarts' history - Harry's defense group excluded.

So when, out of the corner of his eye, Severus saw Albus raise his own wand, prepared to step in to save the dueling students in the circle, Severus took a gamble and slowly shook his head.

Trust them, he wanted to tell his employer, they'll get it. Just give them enough time to figure it out.

In a demonstration of confidence for his employee, Albus carefully lowered his wand. And while his hand never left its hilt, his blue eyes turned back to the group of three weaving and ducking to avoid the miniature troll they were battling in the last duel of their dark creatures' lessons.

"Aguamenti!"

Finally, Seamus Finnigan thought, and reacted fast enough to hit the miniature troll, spraying a solid stream of water into the opponent's eyes. It wasn't nearly strong enough to knock the creature down beside the four Cornish Pixies already frozen on the floor, but it testified to the lesson learned and gave Severus his signal to step in.

"Petrificus Totalus," the professor called out with his wand pointed confidently at the troll in front of him. In an instant, the creature fell to the floor and Severus apprehended it with a muttered Incarcerous. He'd call Hagrid after class to handle it from here. "And this officially concludes our unit on dark and magical creatures."

The students' disappointed sigh over the end of the lesson didn't go unnoticed by Albus and, ever the Slytherin, Severus pretended not to care about the pride on his employer's face. With his luck, the one year he had no qualms over leaving his teaching post would be the same one he'd regret leaving.

Keenly aware of the end of class approaching, Severus waved his wand at the chalkboard to outline their assignment. "Due to the unique nature of the subject, rather than having you sit a traditional examination, I'm assigning an essay comprising three sections." As expected, the response to this news was mostly positive.

"In the first section," he continued, "you'll select three defensive spells used in the duels and thoroughly tell me how they reacted similarly and differently against various opponents. Please keep in mind the environment you might find these creatures naturally in, and include the limitations those environments might have.

"For the next section, using at least one dark creature we faced in class, extrapolate on how the skills might transfer when faced with a creature we did not duel in class. While the headmaster approved bringing in several unorthodox for a classroom, there are a plethora of others we've discussed in class… and you may one day face… which were too dangerous to bring in. Consider this when selecting your theoretical creature."

He let the students catch up on their notes, none of them paying attention to Albus's and Minerva's quiet exit from the classroom. Without realizing it, Severus released a sigh - having two others sitting in on his classes exhausted him more than expected.

"The last piece of your essay," he continued once most of the quill scribbling ceased and he held the attention of his students again, "will focus on your individual duels. I'd like you to elaborate on the spells you were confident delivering, those you need to work on, and how you felt about your team as a whole. Remember, supportive members are equally important in any duel, as the one who delivers the defeating spell.

"The essays are due at the end of class Wednesday. However, beginning Friday, you will all do a presentation on the first two sections. Class dismissed."

The room erupted in murmurs and the shuffling of books, quills, and parchment being shoved back into school bags to be abandoned until Sunday night. For once, Severus was doing the same with his work because, to get Harry to Guildford on time for his bone marrow biopsy before starting his next inpatient treatment bright and early tomorrow morning, they had to leave soon.

The decision not to stay with Harry during his inpatient treatment wasn't one he made lightly. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't relieved when Tonks approached him yesterday afternoon to apologize for being unable to cover his classes. To his delight, she explained how Sampson immediately called for an extra three aurors per week to be sent to Azkaban on top of the extra supervisors she'd seen wandering around the wizarding prison. She didn't provide any insight about the sudden change in personnel requirements, nevertheless, Severus suspected it had to do with the tip he provided at their last meeting. They were likely investigating the possibility of Ash and Talpin's poisoning. His actual relief, though, came because he'd spent too long since Draco's release from that same prison trying to figure out how to keep a close eye on the Malfoy heir - for his safety, of course.

Given Harry's current course of steroids, his easy agreement surprised Severus; who had already queued up a handful of benefits to the arrangements he made for Lupin to stop by periodically before Severus arrived there, directly after classes.

"A bit of a risk leaving Finnegan and company as long as you did, don't you think?"

Focused on his packing, Severus completely missed Draco approaching his desk.

"You were late today," Severus said, never once lifting his head away from sorting the third year exams he planned to mark this weekend.

"And I appreciate you not calling me out on it." Draco shifted his bag higher up his shoulder at the same time Severus sensed those grey eyes watching him closely. "Is it true? You're staying here next week?"

Severus froze, his hand still clutching his defense book half loaded into his bag, and glared up at his student.

"I take it you saw Harry today?"

"Maybe," Draco nonchalantly stated. "You don't trust Aurora Tonks to mark our essays and presentations?"

Severus went back to his task at hand, having no interest in aiding whatever rumors were going around the school. "Something like that."

"But you will be here next week, then?"

"Yes," Severus sighed. "I'll be back Sunday night. Disappointed?"

"No, not at all. "Draco straightened at the accusation. "Figured you'd be clinging to Harry's side, is all."

Severus slammed down his book on Banshee, making Draco jump. "If you must know," he sneered, "a last-minute change left Auror Tonks unable to step in next week and I chose to save you all from another set of musical professors. It also allows me to keep a closer watch on our house to prevent any issues."

"Like what?" Draco challenged.

Severus gave another hard stare at the teen. If he wanted information on the investigation, he wouldn't be getting any out of Severus. "Did you have a particular reason for staying behind today? If you hadn't noticed, I did not ask you to, and I canceled my office hours this afternoon since I am staying with Harry through Sunday evening and we need to leave shortly."

The air between them thickened. "Obviously, I do," Draco arrogantly replied. "A couple of weeks ago, Harry suggested I visit him at the hospital it'd be a valuable experience for my dual program-"

"-he would be correct."

"That's hardly the point," Draco retorted. "I talked to him right before class today… that's why I was late… and he agreed Sunday would be a good day for it."

Severus blinked. "And your point is?"

Draco's frustrated huff satisfied him far more than it should have. "Well… I need a means to get there… sir."

"Ah, I see." The professor feigned ignorance. "And you expect me to make a separate trip back here to get you? When students aren't supposed to leave the premises of the school and the headmaster limited your exemption to such a rule to your appointments with your muggle therapist?"

Draco visibly stiffened. Whether it be his time in Azkaban or something else, the nervous reaction didn't align with the Draco he knew; one who showed no weakness, no matter how unsure he felt in any given scenario. Therefore, whatever caused the reaction, Severus doubted it related to his request to learn how Harry's muggle treatment worked.

Knowing his only opportunity to uncover Draco's potential subterfuge, Severus agreed - as he would have done for an educational request, anyway. "I'll make the arrangements with Albus. Be prepared to leave Sunday at lunch. I'll bring you back after the dinner hour."

"Dudley too," Draco added. "And Ron… Harry asked if they could visit."

"Are they aware of the arrangements made on their behalf?"

Draco rolled his eyes and shifted his school bag up over his shoulder. "I'll make sure they're ready when you get here. Thank you, Severus."

Severus spent the walk down to his quarters weighing the benefits of approaching Harry regarding whatever Draco might be up to. Being the Head of Slytherin served him well over the years, the best being his ability to read through the lies his students attempted to tell, and he saw right through Draco's. Whatever the Malfoy heir had in mind for visiting Harry, Severus would bet his vault it didn't involve any career training. So what could push a wizard such as Draco into crossing such a threshold as to visit a muggle hospital? And was Harry aware of it, or did he trust Draco's word at face value? The latter certainly fell under Harry's nobler, Gryffindor traits, however, the child did live with at least one Slytherin consistently for the last eighteen months. Severus, himself, had seen him pick up a trait or two recently. In the end, he changed his mind on the topic at least a half dozen times by the time he opened the door to his and Harry's Hogwarts home but landed on not mentioning his suspicions to Harry. The Gryffindor already had a colossal weight sitting on top of him as they approached his bone marrow biopsy in a few hours, and he didn't want to add any more stress to his mind. Plus, by allowing his friends and cousin to visit, hopefully, it meant Harry's mindset was taking a positive turn, something he desperately needed as each cycle became more taxing than the last.

Fully intending on packing as efficiently as possible, a pop of apparation near the desk in his sitting room at the same moment he entered his quarters altered Severus's plans. A letter, one of great importance if spelled to arrive upon his return home rather than delivered to Harry, sat prominently on the previously empty desk.

Severus's heart skipped a beat as he slowly picked up the muggle envelope postmarked The Law Offices of Silas Elms. If Albus received - and returned - his recommendation earlier this week, it wouldn't be out of the realm of possibility for his other references to have completed theirs too. If so, in his hands, he possibly held the future of their relationship.

Do I open it now or wait until next week?

The million galleon question no one could answer for him. A positive outcome would certainly help as they went into a night like tonight, and the upcoming week of chemotherapy, but the potential for bad news could devastate him. Even if Harry never knew the reason behind it, Severus's disappointment would be hard to hide, and he needed to stay positive for the child who, in his heart, was his son. His anxiousness to know eventually won and with his hands moving almost on their own, Severus ripped open the envelope before he changed his mind.

Standing there, in the same sitting room once belonging to a version of himself who hated the child he loved, his eyes swiftly scanned the document, unable to absorb every single word because they were looking for one specific phrase. And when he found it, the confirmation he needed to tell Harry about the adoption, Severus's smile grew larger than he ever remembered; besides, maybe his first son's adoption. A million "what ifs" suddenly raced through Severus's mind. What if Harry didn't want to be adopted? What if he was angry for not being told sooner? What if it changed their relationship for the worse? Then, almost as soon as those thoughts appeared, they disappeared, leaving him with only one: if Harry wanted it, they had an actual path to officially becoming father and son.

There was only one other time the walk to Harry's room felt as long as it did that night; a memory Severus refused to let taint this moment. They deserved to be happy, for something to finally go their way, and for tonight Severus did his best to tuck away the grief he always carried inside of him as far as it allowed.

Harry's door was closed, but since moving in, the teen rarely kept it open, so Severus didn't think twice about it. The silence on the other side, though, startled him. Being hours from having to leave for Guildford, he fully expected to hear Harry grudgingly throwing his last-minute belongings into his bag; complete with several choice curse words muttered in the process. Still only mildly curious, Severus didn't even look up from the letter clutched in his hand to knock on the door and waited for the young wizard to respond. But when the first knock went unanswered, the former spy became more alarmed. He gave Harry the chance to respond to a second and third knock before he cautiously pushed open the door, unprepared for the scene on the other side: a darkened room with two figures tangled asleep together on the bed… Harry and Luna, to be exact.

~~~HP~~~

"Harry James Potter!"

As someone who grew up surrounded by people who literally hated him, Harry would have thought he'd be used to being woken up by the sound of disappointment in his name. None of those times, however, compared to the disapproving growl of Snape's voice as he abruptly ended Harry's sound sleep - most likely because Harry actually loved and respected the man, unlike his aunt and uncle.

"Sev'rus?!" Harry sleepily replied. Out of habit, he tugged on his blanket to wrap it around himself, not even realizing he lay fully dressed in the bed. Unfortunately, he remembered Luna lying next to him a second too late, and he turned back around right as she harshly rolled into the wall on the other side of the bed with a loud thump. "Luna! I'm so sorry!"

Luna smiled, rubbing her head where it hit the stones underneath his nearly darkened enchanted window.

"It's alright, Harry," she reassured him. With more grace than Harry ever had, Luna righted herself until she leaned against his wooden headboard, with her legs casually crossed at the ankle, as if her boyfriend's pseudo-father, and professor, hadn't just caught them asleep in bed. "I'm fine, but I think Professor Snape wants to say something to you. He looks quite angry about it."

Harry audibly gulped when the events of the afternoon came flooding back to him. After they got back home from feeding the thestrals, Luna helped keep him motivated to finish the last of his packing for next week and at some point, they laid down on his bed. They began talking about life after Hogwarts and Harry told her about how he wanted to become a Child Life Specialist, like Christopher, for kids in both muggle hospitals and St Mungos. He never remembered falling asleep, yet the deep flush he felt creeping up his face wouldn't help convince Snape.

As if reading Harry's mind, the professor crossed his arms around his chest and asked, "Care to fill me in on what's happening here?"

Harry stood to face his mentor eye-to-eye, but not before he saw those black eyes drift down to his long-sleeved shirt and jogging bottoms.

"Nothing at all," Harry stated, hoping if he pretended it wasn't a big deal, Snape might go along with it. However, based on Snape's pursed lips and stone bitter face, he had misjudged the situation. "I promise," Harry amended, "it's not like how it looks."

"Perfect," Snape's sarcasm cut right through Harry's chest, "because it looked as if you and Miss Lovegood-" Harry cringed at the formal use of her name, "-were sleeping in some form or fashion in your bed… with the door closed. Please enlighten me where my assessment is incorrect."

Harry's face reddened further. "Well, when you put it like that, it's kind of what it was." Snape's single eyebrow rose. "Please, believe me, Severus. Like I said, nothing happened."

Still standing tall in front of Snape - an act he'd later pride himself on - Harry noticed the man's gaze shift from Luna sitting nonchalantly on the bed, then down to a piece of paper Harry only then noticed clutched in the man's hand. Whatever went through the man's mind when he saw the paper must have worked, because Harry breathed a sigh of relief when the angry lines across Snape relaxed.

"Miss Lovegood," Snape calmly turned to address the witch, "you are aware I have to report this to your Head of House, correct?"

Luna brushed the blanket off her lap to stand with Harry, showing no embarrassment over their position by intertwining her hand into his. "Oh yes, I know. Professor Flitwick was very thorough about the process when going over what would happen if he found out any of us were in this situation. I suspect he never thought he'd have to have the talk with me about it, though. Do you think I should bring biscuits?"

Harry's already amused grin grew wider as he watched Snape unsuccessfully try to hold back his own exasperated reaction. Harry didn't know how any of the Slytherins acted behind closed doors, but he was pretty confident Pansy Parkinson would never bring Snape biscuits for any reason.

The professor massaged the small muscles in his brows, his eyes closed tightly. "No," he curtly answered. "That would be highly inappropriate."

Luna peered at Harry and shrugged her shoulders. "I should go," his girlfriend announced so loudly the echo off the walls startled Harry.

It took Harry a second for his head to clear enough to comprehend her words. "Here." He gingerly shuffled by Snape to his bedroom door. "Let me walk you out."

"No, no. I know my way out." In a bold move given the current environment, Luna stretched onto her tiptoes to plant a small kiss on Harry's cheek. "If Professor Snape's body language is any clue, it seems you both have a lot to talk about. I'll write to you on the coins and see you when you're feeling up to it next week."

The pressure in the room grew as soon as Luna shut the door behind her. Needing something to soften it, Harry nervously walked around his room pretending to check on what he packed up for his week at the hospital - his picture frames, plenty of extra clothes in case he stayed longer than planned, a couple books he wouldn't read, his sketchpad he couldn't properly use, and his music player from Dudley. Of course, he already knew he had everything ready, but he felt better moving around while waiting for Snape to broach the topic he desperately didn't want to talk about.

"When did this come about?" Snape's voice sounded soft, almost caring, once he finally broke the stifling silence.

Harry anxiously faced him, turning over the extra pair of socks he planned to toss in his bag to keep his hands busy. "You mean me and Luna?" He knew the answer before Snape nodded. "Erm… sometime around the Quidditch game, I think. It just sort of happened after we went to the game together."

"And Miss Lovegood-"

"Luna," Harry quipped. "Say Luna… or it sounds like I'm dating a professor or something."

"Luna, then," Snape said with a small chuckle under his breath. "She understands the complexity of your situation?"

"Why does it matter?!" Frustrated at how everything in his life seemed to come back to his illness, Harry moved to run his hands angrily through his hair until he remembered he had none. Yet another thing taken away from him by his 'situation'. "Yes," he yelled as loud as his strained voice allowed. "She gets how I can't always be here, or that I might be too sick to hang out one night, or that I won't be able to go to every Hogsmeade weekend! And guess what? She doesn't care! Why is that such a hard concept for people to understand?! Why can't you be happy about one thing going well in my fucking life?!"

His rant left him panting for breath, but Snape never moved from his sitting position on the bed. He didn't flinch at Harry's curse or give any indication of his typical reprimanding over using it. For a solid minute, the air between them remained completely static; Harry standing at his dresser, his arms hanging at his side, defeated, and Snape staring down at the paper now crumbled in his hand.

"I must apologize." Harry's head whipped up at Snape's words, lessening some of his steam towards the man. "I did not mean to imply she might have an issue with the limitations on your social life. Miss Love- pardon me, Luna, appears to be the type of person who doesn't care much about how common someone is. In fact, I truly believe she is exactly the person you need to be with right now."

"Then what did you mean?"

"What I should have said," Snape paused and Harry got the impression he was searching for his words carefully, "is given the… position… I walked in on this afternoon, is she - and you - aware of the concerns in that department? Becoming intimate?"

"Oh." Harry shook his head rapidly. "One, we weren't doing anything. But two, I already know the spells and… stuff… for all of that."

Snape's sigh made Harry feel as if he'd disappointed the man by missing the point yet again. "I take it you never went back to read the pamphlets I gave you when we lived at your aunt and uncle's house?"

Despite being a statement, Harry mumbled, "I scanned through them."

This time Snape's face flushed. "I suggest you go back and review the guidelines for bodily fluids and sexual activities… to be sure both you and your partner stay safe.

"For example, while our magical methods of birth control are acceptable in the typical sense of preventing an unwanted pregnancy and various wizarding diseases, they were not designed to protect against your chemotherapy drugs. Therefore, you should be sure to use muggle methods instead. Myself or Madam Pomfrey can provide-"

"I get it," Harry interrupted, putting both of them out of their misery. Given the topic of the conversation, Harry surprised himself by how much more comfortable he felt when walked across the room to sit next to Snape. "For what it's worth, we're not anywhere near there yet. Like I said, nothing happened today. I'm not even sure I want… or if I even physically can… have anything happen right now."

To say the words aloud left Harry feeling more vulnerable than he ever remembered, especially considering his previous declaration of wanting to be normal. Now he couldn't deny the truth; he wasn't normal, wouldn't be for many more years, if at all.

"I'll look through them," Harry committed.

Snape shifted himself on the bed, but didn't actually face Harry; something the teen was grateful for. "If you have questions specifically related to your treatment, or need… anything… I'm certain Dr Swanson-"

"I'm not talking to Dr Swanson about this." In his mind, Harry drew a hard line there. His relationship with his muggle doctor never got to the same camaraderie as it had with Healer Smithe; a reality which saddened him. Deep down, though, he knew he might need someone to go to on the topic when, or if, things between him and Luna reached a certain point. "Do you think Christopher could help me?"

Snape took a moment to think it through before answering. "I'm sure he can. If not, you and Christopher have built a good rapport over the month and I have no doubt he'll get you to the right place to find the information you need, in the most discreet manner possible."

Harry gave a half smile. "I like him… Christopher, I mean. I think that's something I'd like to do someday in our world or in the muggle world, too."

"It's good for you to focus on a goal in your future," Snape responded. "This won't last forever and someday you'll be able to move on, live your life, get a job, get married, have kids if you want them. Someday, everything you're going through will only be a memory."

So many doubts crept into Harry's mind as he listened to Snape rattle off the accomplishments he dreamed about; the things his friends would all be pursuing once they left Hogwarts at the end of the school year. Sensing the bitterness growing inside Harry, Snape wrapped his hand - the one not holding the mysterious letter - around Harry's shoulder to bring him in for a hug. Without thinking twice, Harry mirrored the gesture, needing the hug more than he'd be able to admit.

"So, whatcha got there?" Harry tipped his head towards Snape's hand.

A quick flash of hesitation crossed the professor's dark eyes as if he didn't want to share the secrets the paper held. Eventually, he held out the folded object for Harry and said, "It's for you… if you'd like it to be."

Something about the small tremble in Snape's voice made Harry question if he should take it. What kind of Pandora's box could he be opening and cannot put back? Ultimately, his curiosity won out - he was a Gryffindor, after all - and as soon as it transferred from Snape's possession into his, he unfolded it:

Mr Severus Snape,

I'm writing to inform you of the most recent update regarding your petition for the permanent adoption of the minor, Harry James Potter.

Our offices met with Mrs Arabella Figg on 18 November 1997 and she has agreed, in writing, to relinquish her temporary guardianship of Harry James Potter to Severus Tobias Snape without contest. The courts have accepted your submitted documentation and, pending a full home inspection, they have set a preliminary hearing for 17 February 1998 where a series of interviews with you, Harry Potter, Mrs Figg, and your references will take place.

The tentative date for your final hearing has been set for 18 April 1998.

Signed,

Silas Elms

P.S. Severus, I tried to get at least the first hearing in before the holiday, but the judge I requested is out all month (something with her niece's wedding, I didn't pay much attention). As I mentioned when we first met, most of this is a formality in the muggle courts. I am a betting man, and this is as good as done. Try to enjoy your holiday knowing this much.

Harry didn't know when he started shaking, but by the time he read the scribbled PostScript, he was thankful for Snape's powerful arms there to help hold him up. So many thoughts and questions raced through his head that he became confused about which one he wanted to say or ask first.

"Harry?" Snape's raw, unsure voice broke the young wizard's trance. "Are you-"

"You want to adopt me?" Harry finally broke his memorized gaze away from the black and white typed words - the ones that clearly said they were going to be father and son - to meet Snape's glistening eyes.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"But why?" Harry blurted out. He didn't care how he sounded, he needed to know the answer before he got his hopes up.

Unexpectedly, Snape chuckled. "Why wouldn't I?"

Though simple enough to answer, the reason made Harry's stomach drop. Embarrassed, he lowered his head as he replied, "Because… I'm not him."

"Yes, I was already aware of that when I drafted the papers," Snape replied, not at all hesitating in doing so. "And when I met with our solicitor. And when I painstakingly pulled every document they requested. And when I asked at least a half-dozen people to be a personal reference.

"I fully understand you are more insecure than my first son, more audacious, and far more impulsive than my first son. I am also fully aware of the unique challenges ahead in parenting an almost fully grown adult… one who spent his formative teenage years feeling alone and being told his purpose in life was to fight a dark wizard. But I love all of that about you, Harry, and if you'll have me, I want to be your father."

Harry closed his eyes as he processed the words Snape said. He was wanted, and not because Snape wanted to rebuild what he'd lost in his old world. Snape wanted him with all of his differences, his challenges, and his flaws - all things he accepted as an impossibility when he lived in the cupboard under the stairs. Overcome by a sudden burst of joy, love, and hope inside him, Harry dropped the letter as he reached over to engulf Snape in a full hug, relishing the stability Snape's arms around him provided. No matter what he'd said about not needing an official document to be a family, Harry wanted this more than he wanted almost anything else in the world.

"Yes, I want to be your son," he answered, probably taking longer than Snape hoped. Although Snape's arms tightened around him, Harry could feel the immense relief within them.

"So this is really going to happen, right?" Harry asked in disbelief. "I mean, April is way before I turn eighteen."

"Technically, it's not a done deal until we all sign the paperwork before the judge in muggle court," Snape cautioned. "However, as you can see by his unorthodox scratch at the bottom of his letter, our solicitor is confident we won't have any hurdles. He believes you being almost an adult combined with the obvious neglect you grew up in and your medical situation will benefit us."

Harry sat in silence, half-listening to Snape go on and on about future home visits and interviews, about the people he asked to be references, and their upcoming court dates, not caring about any of those minute details. To him, none of them matter. In fact, at that moment, his upcoming biopsy didn't seem nearly as important anymore; it wasn't as if anything he did in the coming hours would impact his remission status. Instead, he focused on the things he gained in the last two weeks since being home: the return of his friend from Azkaban, a girlfriend he enjoyed hanging out with, and a father he loved. So now, even if he didn't get any good news tonight, at least he'd have the chance to live with every single thing he ever wanted for however long he had left. But, if he reached remission for the second time in a year, he vowed deep down into his soul never to take any of them for granted.