Thursday was the last day Severus had to accomplish the last remaining items on his list. Unfortunately, it was also the day the house-elves were renovating his quarters, which meant Severus had taken over Harry's desk while the house-elves worked and Harry slept in with Flurry balled up beside the boy like she had since Harry started staying in the dungeons. The Potions Master had the fifth, sixth, and half the fourth years' exams to get through along with tabulating final grades before the end of the day. He was stressed and snappy from being behind with his grading, Harry's looming appointment with the specialist the next morning, and making sure his Slytherins were packed and ready to leave. To top it off he was nursing a migraine.

Severus questioned himself again why he insisted on such grueling end-of-term exams. It was torture reading line after line of stupidity offered up by his students. Hadn't they managed to absorb something over the course of the year? Dipping his quill into his red inkwell to inform Miss Weasley that the bruise-healing paste did not contain valerian root or any kinds of roots, Severus found his inkwell empty. Scowling, Severus summoned a new one making it his second of the day, and it wasn't even noon yet.

The door cracked open to admit his new inkwell and with it came a flurry of noise, more than enough to wake Harry. "Sir?" his student questioned, his voice full of sleep.

"Go back to sleep," Severus snapped, realizing a moment later his mistake. "Sorry."

"What are you doing in my room?" the teen yawned as he stretched, not affected by Severus' comment.

"The house-elves are renovating my quarters, and the only other room with a desk available for me at the moment is the library which I have failed to show you as of yet," Severus answered setting down his glasses and quill before turning to face his student who was quickly becoming more than just his student.

"What time is it?" the teen questioned petting Flurry behind her ears, causing the fluffy monster to purr.

"Eleven. There is nothing you must do today though I encourage you to visit with your friends as they will be leaving tomorrow," Severus informed Harry.

The teen shuddered in his navy blue silk pajamas that fit him perfectly. "I don't want to. Not yet. Can't I stay here?" he said in a small childlike tone, pulling Flurry to his side as if the tiny white kitten could shield him from facing the outside world.

"Harry," Severus sighed while crossing the room to sit on the edge of the bed. "This is your room. I'm not going to kick you out, but you may not see your friends for a while. Wouldn't it be better to talk to them now instead of dwelling on it?"

"I guess, but I can come back at anytime, right?" Harry asked needing reassurance.

"Yes, now go clean up, and if you are quick enough we should be able to make it for lunch in the Great Hall," Severus suggested. If Harry met his friends there, it would give the boy time before his friends accosted him with questions.

"Okay," Harry sighed in resignation before padding off to shower, a bundle of clean clothes in hand. Severus reminded himself to get the house-elves to move Harry's stuff down. It was becoming quite the inconvenience to summon a house-elf to retrieve the boy's things periodically through the day.

Fifteen minutes later, the teen reappeared showered and ready to go, though his pale face and shaking hands suggested otherwise. Harry looked longingly at his bed as if he wished he were still sleeping or perhaps hiding in its protective coverings.

Severus moved to the child firmly grasping his shoulders with his long fingers. "They're your friends," he reminded him. "And remember you may come back at anytime. If I'm not here, I'm either at the Leaving Feast or in the Slytherin dorms making sure they're ready to leave."

Harry nodded leaning into his touch. Severus kept hold of the boy for a few minutes until snatching his hands away.

"Get your shoes on, and let's go before your friends start speculating if I've turned you into potions ingredients," Severus ordered to avoid any awkwardness after their contact. Jumping to follow, Harry pulled on his trainers before they left the dungeons, Harry a few meters ahead of Severus so it didn't look like they were walking together.

When the teen stopped at the door to the Great Hall right as Severus was about to turn the corner to enter through the staff entrance, he was forced to stop his progress. Severus looked around for any stray students that might be hiding in the shadows. Finding none, he strode over to Harry.

"Remember what I said. Anytime though I prefer you at least finish your meal first," Severus repeated to calm the boy's nerves.

"I'll try," Harry said, his small scared voice echoing off the stone walls.

"That's all I ask," Severus said ruffling the boy's messy mop of hair. "Now go before Weasley eats everything."

"Stop it," Harry whined swatting his hand away.

Severus smirked, ruffling the teen's hair one more time. "I will when you start moving. Be back at curfew, and don't take any potions or eat or drink anything that may contain magical ingredients."

"Okay," Harry said taking a deep breath while running a hand through his hair to try to fix it, not that it did much help.

"And Harry?" he called back to the teen with one last thought.

"Yeah?"

"Have fun," Severus suggested before disappearing around the corner to enter through the staff entrance.

Severus seated himself at the Head Table of the filled hall. It was loud with excited children discussing summer plans and seventh years reminiscing about their time spent at Hogwarts.

"Good afternoon, Severus," Albus joyfully greeted him as if his favorite student wasn't severely ill. "How's the grading?"

"Fine," he snapped annoyed with the Headmaster. "It shall be done tonight on schedule."

"Excellent," Albus clapped his hands together. "We wouldn't want to send the children home without complete grade reports."

"Of course not," Severus said, his words dripping with sarcasm. "There's nothing more important at the moment than ensuring exams are graded."

"Now my boy, surely the boy is giving you enough free time by spending much of the remaining time before term ends with his friends," Albus lowered his voice to prevent his words from drifting into the students' hearing ranges.

"Think what you will," Severus closed the conversation with a satisfyingly hard stab to his chicken.

The Potions Master kept the corner of his eye trained on Harry who was walking up the aisle towards the Gryffindor table. The boy squished in beside Neville, effectively using the other boy as a buffer between himself and his best friends.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed loud enough for the entire hall to hear as she practically leaped across the table to engulf Harry in her arms. Severus frowned. Didn't the girl comprehend that Harry wasn't up for her antics?

The teen locked eyes with his, pleading for help while he tried to extricate himself from Hermione. Severus again wondered if encouraging Harry to visit with his friends was a mistake. The boy needed to be stable for his appointment with the specialist in the morning when his Hickman line would be put in.

"Minerva, control your Gryffindors," Severus barked to the Transfigurations professor sitting on the other side of the Headmaster.

"What are you referring...oh," Minerva stood up while giving Severus a knowing look that made him uncomfortable. He refused to acknowledge he was becoming attached to the Potter spawn. No, Harry. It was his duty and nothing else.

Minerva walked over to her Gryffindors and gave Hermione and the surrounding Gryffindors a scathing lecture concerning table manners. In the meantime, Harry sent him a mouthed thank you before pushing around his food on his plate, eating a small bite every few minutes.

-----

After the Gryffindors finished their meal in relative silence afraid of attracting McGonagall's wrath for the second time in an hour, Hermione and Ron dragged Harry to the Room of Requirement. Surprisingly, the room recreated Harry's bedroom in Snape's quarters complete with enchanted mirror and wall mural.

"Wow!" Ron exclaimed flopping onto the bed. "This looks like it could be Malfoy's room."

"Yeah," Harry agreed for the sake of hiding it was in fact a replica of his. Ron wouldn't believe his claim anyway, and if he did, he'd be jealous. Harry sat on the chaise lounge, the closest seat to the door waiting for Hermione and Ron to start questioning him.

It was torture to sit there and wait. He could feel their piercing gazes on him as he balled up the sleeves of his jumper. Harry refused to make the same mistake of displaying his rash that while getting less itchy and red hadn't left yet. Couldn't they get on with it already? He wasn't an animal at a zoo to be watched and examined?

His two friends shared a look before Hermione came to sit beside him. She restrained herself from clinging to him, but her hug still felt uncomfortable, like he was suffocating.

"Hermione, please," Harry pleaded pushing her away.

"I'm so sorry," Hermione broke down, crying while she clung to him in earnest.

Confused, Harry looked to his other best friend for help.

Ron didn't move from the bed as he gave him a sympathetic look, something Ron never did. What was going on? He knew his friends thought staying with Snape was the end of the world, but even that didn't warrant both of his friends' reactions.

"What's going on?" Harry asked with his brow furrowed.

"We know," Hermione hugged him tighter, her cries turning to sobs. What did they know? They couldn't know he had cancer, yet dread welled up inside him.

"Madame Pomfrey told us," Ron explained his look of sympathy turning to fear.

"Told you what? I'm fine," Harry lied, his voice giving him away. Oh, how he wished he could lie as smooth as Snape could.

"You are not fine, Harry James Potter! I can't believe you say you're fine when you have," Hermione yelled, stopping suddenly as if it pained her to continue.

"My magical core is depleted. It's nothing. I'll be fine, really," Harry continued lying. He wasn't ready to tell his friends about his cancer and feared that somehow his friends knew.

"Bloody hell, mate!" Ron exclaimed leaping up from the bed. "We know you have cancer!"

What?

Harry screamed inside his head as he struggled to breathe. They weren't supposed to know. Snape promised it was his decision to make, not anyone else's. Shoving a sobbing Hermione off him and onto the floor, Harry darted up off the chaise lounge. "I have to go," he panicked, his lungs feeling like a dragon sat on them.

His body beaded in perspiration as he struggled to breathe and dizziness clouded his brain. He needed to get back to the dungeons where it was safe, away from everyone else. With that thought, Harry ran.

"Come back!" Ron yelled after him. "Harry!"

Harry ignored Ron's voice. He rushed down the staircases, knocking two second year Ravenclaws into the balusters, but couldn't stop. He needed safety. Now!

It seemed like it took a lifetime for Harry to reach Snape's quarters, but when he did, he ran through the door straight to his room, not even noticing the new entrance chamber the house-elves created. Intending to curl up in a ball on the floor in the corner on the far side of the bed, Harry instead met the black robes of Snape.

Snape's arms stiffly wrapped around him, holding him close. Harry closed his eyes relishing the warmth radiating off the professor as he panted and coughed. "Breathe," Snape instructed guiding Harry's head to his shoulder, holding him in place.

Following Snape's command, he relaxed bit-by-bit breathing in the minty scent emanating off Snape's robes. He felt calmed, soaking in the odd comforting gesture from Snape. More importantly, those arms around him promised safety, a feeling Harry craved but rarely felt.

"Better?" Snape asked loosening his grip after a few minutes.

"Yeah," he answered, mourning the loss of Snape's tight grip, but finally feeling the dragon on his lungs disappear allowing him to breathe normally.

"What happened?" Snape questioned, his voice as soothing as Harry imagined the snarky Potions Master could be.

"They know," Harry whispered into Snape's black robes. As rigid as they appeared, the fabric was soft and welcoming, completely unlike the Potions Professor.

"What? How?" Snape's body tensed under him.

"Madame Pomfrey told them."

The Potions Master jerked away from him. "We had an agreement!" he snarled, pacing in front of him. "I should take this development to the Headmaster, it's ground for dismissal for a mediwitch to break patient confidentiality."

Harry stood still ignoring Snape's outburst, torn between crying and flinging himself back into the Potions Master's arms. Somehow voicing what happened made it real. His friends knew, and if they couldn't keep their mouths shut soon the whole wizarding world would know including Voldemort. Wouldn't the insane madman love to know he could waltz up to him without worrying about him being able to defend himself? 

His control was faltering, the very control he forced himself to maintain. Harry wasn't weak, and only the weak broke down. He didn't have the option to be weak. Harry had to survive so he could rid the world of Voldemort.

"Professor," he choked out.

"What?" Snape snapped glaring at him.

Cringing, Harry stepped back from his professor. "Professor, please," he pleaded, his voice breaking. He felt himself slipping hoping Snape would pull him back over the edge before it was too late.

Snape turned, his anger melting as his eyes locked on him. "Harry, I'm sorry." The man closed in on Harry, wrapping his stiff arms back around him. "I'm not angry at you."

"It's okay," Harry said hiding his face in his professor's robes. He could stay there forever if it meant Snape chased away his demons for him.

"No, it's not," Snape tightened his grip. "I must learn not to direct my anger at whoever is around. I do however need to speak with the Headmaster."

"Please, don't," Harry begged, his short fingers grasping the front of Snape's robes to prevent the man from leaving. Being alone meant sliding back over the edge that Snape prevented him from falling down.

"Harry, what Madame Pomfrey did is inexcusable. She shouldn't have put you in this situation," his professor spoke softly.

"I know, but I don't want to make this any bigger than it already is," Harry begged. "If Madame Pomfrey is fired then Professor Dumbledore will have to hire someone new, and they'll have to be told about me, and what if she looks at me like I'm dying all the time. I couldn't handle that. At least I know Madame Pomfrey."

Harry knew for certain he couldn't have ensured being able to have future children yesterday if it was anyone else in charge of the Hospital Wing except Madame Pomfrey. He also wasn't sure he wanted someone else to see him without his shirt on with as skinny as he was. The Mediwitch never commented on his less than stellar body, and he appreciated that.

"If that is what you wish," Snape relented, "but don't think I won't be having words with her."

"It is," Harry insisted, "I don't want people to know."

"Harry," Snape addressed him, placing a finger under his chin to force him to look into his obsidian eyes. "Cancer isn't shameful. You did nothing to get it, and remember while you may be sick, you're not going to die."

"Then why does everyone act like I'm going to?" Harry protested. He hated those looks that made him feel that he was dying.

"Have I ever lied to you?" Snape questions, his tone dead serious.

"No, sir," he gulped.

"Then believe me when I say that I won't let you die," Severus said, fire dancing in his eyes.

Harry lowered his head back to Snape's shoulder and nodded against it, warmth sweeping through his body, wondering if this was what it felt like having someone caring for him. He believed Snape's words. Somehow, the man would ensure Harry lived, he always did.

Leaning more and more of his weight onto to Snape, his limbs felt heavier and heavier. Harry was sick of the littlest thing tiring him out, but it was useless to fight. His fatigue always won out in the end. Snape guided him over to his bed.

"Don't fight it," the Potions Master said as he helped Harry into bed. "I need to check on my Slytherins and make a short appearance at the Leaving Feast. I'll wake you when I return."

Harry took off his glasses before curling up between the cool sheets. A moment later his eyes drooped shut, sending him into the world of dreams.

-----

Returning to his quarters a few hours after he left them, Severus crept into Harry's room not at all surprised the boy was still sleeping. He was so close to breaking down upon his return, but somehow Severus managed to bring him back from that edge, at least for now.

Harry looked so small curled up in the large bed, so vulnerable. Even in sleep, the boy's eyebrows were furrowed in worry, and the boy didn't know his Hickman procedure was scheduled for the next morning yet. Severus planned to tell him before bed tonight, but perhaps he'd wait until morning, giving Harry less time to fret over the procedure.

With his Slytherins seen to, Severus had one last task before devoting the rest of his night to finish his grading, a task that should brighten Harry's spirit before the whirlwind of procedures and treatments started the next morning.

"Harry," Severus shook the teen awake.

"Hmm?" Harry asked pulling the blanket over his head.

"Get up, or you'll never sleep through the night." Severus doubted the validity of his statement, but he didn't wish to clue the child into his surprise yet.

"Leave me alone," Harry mumbled.

"Fine, if you don't wish to go flying, I'll be at the table grading," Severus said smooth as silk.

"Flying?" Harry jumped up, tangled in his covers like Severus knew he would.

"Yes, flying. It's a pleasant evening to grade exams outside," Severus shrugged, not letting Harry know the whole purpose was to let the teen fly one last time before his treatments started and that it had nothing to do with him wishing to grade exams outside.

"But aren't people going to be using the pitch?" Harry questioned, his shoulders slumping.

"It's the night before departure. You know the Headmaster closes the grounds early to students to allow everyone sufficient time to pack," Severus reminded the boy. He had already thought out his plan to make sure Harry didn't have to face anyone.

"Right, I forgot," Harry untangled himself from the covers, slipping to his feet and pulling on his worn trainers. "Let's go grade papers, sir."

"Not so fast," Severus called the boy back from crossing the threshold into the hall. "Rules first."

"Rules?" Harry asked with dread.

"Yes, rules. I can't have you injuring yourself. No flying above the stands or pulling those crazy stunts you flaunt during matches. Also, limit your speed to a respectable velocity. Is that agreeable?" Severus asked hoping his requests weren't too demanding of the child. It was suppose to be a treat, not an occasion to taunt the boy.

"Yes, sir," Harry smiled bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"I took the liberty of having the house-elves transfer your things to your room. Your trunk is at the end of your bed," Severus informed the boy.

"Thank you," Harry said, returning to his room to fetch his Firebolt and cloak from his trunk.

Severus dipped his head in acknowledgement. "Let's go. There isn't much daylight left."

The Potions Master grabbed his stack of ungraded exams, quill, and inkwell from the table as they made their way out of his renovated quarters.

"Sir? When did you get an entranceway?" Harry asked, surprised as if noticing the renovations for the first time.

"This afternoon. I'll show you the changes and reasons for them later. You really should be more observant of your surroundings," Severus gently chided.

"I... sorry," Harry blushed. "I was preoccupied."

"Indeed," Severus said, mockingly raising an eyebrow.

The teen cracked a sheepish smile as Severus pushed him forward.

Outside, Severus settled into the stands to grade, though more than half the time he spent watching Harry fly. The boy flew lazy circles around the pitch before practicing routine dives, turns, and spins. Every so often, Harry's laugh fluttered down to Severus who found it hard not to take pride in his ingenious idea, but no he wasn't doing it for Harry. Severus let Harry fly to occupy the boy so he could finish his grading, nothing more.

"Harry," Severus called to the boy an hour later as darkness shrouded the pitch. "Time to come down."

"Five more minutes?" Harry asked, his smile faltering.

Severus looked around to gauge the darkness. "Five more minutes, but that's it," he allowed.

"Thanks!" Harry smiled, flying off with his cloak billowing behind him.

The Potions Master finished off the exam he was grading before gathering his things and standing up. Perhaps it had taken him closer to fifteen minutes than five to finish that exam, but who was counting? Harry certainly wasn't. In fact, Severus didn't even have to call the boy down. The teen descended upon seeing the Potions Master get up.

"Have a nice flight?" Severus fought the urge to slap himself. He didn't do pleasantries.

"Yes, sir," Harry smiled, but his smile soon disappeared.

"What is it?" Severus questioned, curious as to what led the boy to lose his smile.

"That's the last time I'll get to fly for a while isn't it?" Harry asked, sliding his hands down the handle of his beloved Firebolt longingly.

"I'm afraid so," Severus said hating the frown that marred Harry's face. Should he just wave the white flag of surrender concerning Harry now and get it over with? The boy was akin to Flurry, sticking around until he wiggled his way past his barriers. "It won't be safe while you're undergoing treatment."

"I understand," Harry sighed. "That doesn't mean I like it."

"Then fight so you can fly again soon," Severus suggested.

"I'll try," Harry said.

"Try, Mr. Potter?" he scoffed, ruffling the boy's hair because he knew Harry hated it. "I have higher expectations for you than that."

"I will," the teen amended with a hint of determination.

"Ten points to Gryffindor," Severus awarded as they started their trek back to the castle.

"But sir, you can't give or take points after the Leaving Feast," the teen protested.

"They're for next year then. Besides, we can't have Gryffindor starting off even with Slytherin or my house will surely win," Severus smirked, nudging the stopped teenage whose jaw had dropped. "I see this summer promises to be quite long indeed if you can't handle a simple joke, and close your mouth before a bug flies in, and you start whining over the nastiness of such an occurrence and threatens those ten points you just earned."

"Yes, sir," Harry snapped his jaw closed, running to catch up with his professor.

Severus didn't need tealeaves or a crystal ball to tell him that his summer promised to be long and trying. One look at the child worming his way into his life reminded him of that constantly. It was his job to make the summer and beyond as best as he could for the child starting now with his first official task of making sure Harry received enough rest going into the long day that awaited them. After all, Severus never did anything half-way, and this promised to be no different.