Harry adjusted his pillows so he could recline against them while Snape retrieved Miss Adamson. He was tired, but for the first time in hours his nausea and headache were fading. It was strange to see the clear liquids flow into him through the tubes and not feel anything. He wondered if it would be the same when they hooked him up to the chemo.

Pulling up his blanket, Harry relished in the warmth it brought and sighed in contentment. Despite somewhat accepting his newest accessory, Harry didn't like looking at his bare chest. He was too thin and bony, unattractive. He had noticed his clothes were looser than normal, but it wasn't until the shopping trip when he looked into the full-length mirror that Harry noticed how thin he let himself become. No doubt some of it was from his cancer, but a large part was his own fault. After the Ministry incident, he didn't feel like eating most days and pushed himself to just make it through the end of term.

He shivered and pulled the blanket closer as he realized it was likely he'd lose even more weight. Much more and he'd be blown off his Firebolt with a strong wind, not that it mattered. Harry wouldn't be flying anytime soon. He could see why it wouldn't be safe, but he missed the wind blowing in his face already. Flying made him feel free, like nothing could rein him in, but for now he'd have to stay tethered to the ground by the infusion pump.

"Feeling better yet?" Miss Adamson asked while she walked in and sat in the chair pulled up beside his bed.

"Yes, thank you," Harry answered. Severus perched on the edge of his bed, which was becoming his spot. Harry cracked a smile as his professor squeezed his knee, reinforcing that they were in this together.

"Good," she smiled setting her Muggle notepad onto her knees. "Remember how chemotherapy drugs kill not only cancer cells, but good cells, too?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, when the good cells are killed off they leave you unable to fight off infections or normal illnesses like the common cold as well as you normally would, so there are some precautions you'll need to take to help prevent you from catching anything," Miss Adamson explained as she pulled a few things out of her large tote bag.

"I know I can't fly, but what else do you mean?" Harry asked, curious to what she meant by precautions. Would they be drastic, or simple things that wouldn't change his upside down world even more?

"Nothing too drastic," the Specialist reassured, "I dare say you might even enjoy one of them from what Poppy has told me."

Now Harry was interested. Was it possible his chemo treatments would actually benefit him somehow?

"You're right when you said you won't be able to fly. As much as I've heard how well you can fly, it's too risky. You could fall and injure yourself, which could cause your treatment schedule to be pushed back, and we want to avoid that as much as we can." Miss Adamson reached into her tote bag and pulled out something that she kept hidden in her fist, a sly look upon her face. "However, that doesn't mean you have to let your seeker skills suffer too much. Hold out your hand."

Harry held out his left hand. She couldn't have in her hand what he thought she did. It was impossible. Nobody gave him gifts just because, but as cold metal hit his palm his smile grew. The Specialist withdrew her hand leaving a restful golden snitch sitting in his hand. He tightened his fingers around the snitch before it decided to wake up and fly away.

"It's a practice snitch," she explained. "It can be charmed to stay within designated dimensions, and of course can be turned on and off as a Muggle would say. The instructions are on this scroll here." Miss Adamson set a small scroll on his nightstand.

He had a golden snitch; the same practice snitch used by professional teams and wasn't sold in stores! Harry couldn't wait to tell Ron, but his smile fell as he remembered the last time he saw his friends. His fist loosened against the waking snitch, and the tiny golden ball slipped through his fingers and fluttered off. Harry reached up, but it was too late; the snitch zoomed out of his reach.

The little golden ball flew around the room catching Flurry's attention. Harry watched the cat chase after the snitch as she jumped in the air and tried to bat it down with her paw without success. It fluttered near the ground as if knowing the tiny cat was after it and wished to tease her. The snitch stopped five feet from Flurry and the little ball of fluff paused, ready to pounce.

As Flurry pounced a second later, the snitch flew straight up towards the ceiling out of the tiny cat's range. Harry laughed. Flurry meowed in protest and turned to look at him. She glared as if to say you couldn't do any better. Then, she sat down to groom herself, pretending she was no longer interested in the flying little ball. He shook his head; Flurry was something else. Even Crookshanks, as crazy as that cat was, didn't have a tenth of Flurry's personality. 

Catching the glint of gold out of the corner of his eye, Harry turned to watch as the snitch passed by Snape. He saw the man's hand snatch the golden snitch out of the air in the blink of an eye. His jaw dropped. Who knew that Snape of all people had the reflexes of a seasoned seeker?

Spelling the snitch off, the Potions Master handed the practice snitch back to Harry. "Put it away," his professor ordered.

Speechless, Harry mumbled a yes, sir before sliding open the drawer on his nightstand and depositing the practice snitch and scroll into the small drawer. He turned his attention back to Miss Adamson, waiting for her to continue.

"That was quite exciting!" Miss Adamson exclaimed as she picked up the pouting Flurry off the ground, placing the tiny cat in her lap to console her. "I didn't know you had a Feles Felices, Severus. They are quite rare."

"Not many know I have Flurry," Snape warned. Harry smirked as he held back his laughter. The man was so defensive over people knowing about his cat. Though Harry had to admit if most people knew about Flurry, it would be a lot harder for Snape to be taken seriously as Hogwart's resident dungeon bat.

"Point taken," the Specialist nodded, continuing to pet a purring Flurry. "Now, as we were discussing, precautions. As your immune system will become compromised, it's important that you wash your hands often especially after using the loo, before eating, and after playing with Flurry. A scourgify would work as well. Remember to wash your hands and lower arms for at least thirty seconds using a liquid soap and dry your hands with what Muggles call paper towels or a wandless drying spell."

Miss Adamson pointed to two of the things she had pulled out of her bag. "I brought one of each to get you started. Others wishing to visit should follow the same procedures. They should also wash their hands when they arrive."

"There's a sink in the entrance chamber," Snape added.

"Excellent. It's also very important that any sick person, or anyone who has come into contact with a sick person delays their visit until they're better," Miss Adamson stated.

Harry nodded, the precautions made sense. "What about school? Professor Snape mentioned I wouldn't be able to attend classes at the beginning of term."

"Yes, that's correct," she reached out to squeeze his hand. "It's likely your blood counts won't be consistently high enough to attend classes until you reach the maintenance stage of your treatment plan. I wouldn't expect you to return to classes until after the Christmas holidays at the earliest, and when you do return it'll likely be shortened days at first."

"Oh," Harry frowned. As much as he hated getting up some mornings to attend classes, it would be weird to not be in class with his friends, especially for a whole term. He thought he'd be out for a few weeks or a month. Could he really not attend one class all term and stay caught up? Harry doubted it was possible. He'd never be able to do it, but with Snape maybe there was a small chance to complete all his coursework. Harry hoped Snape was good at more than Potions because he'll need the help, as he was never one to be able to learn by just reading something.

"Severus, have you spoken to the Headmaster concerning Harry's educational needs yet?"

"I've brought it up, but it was not a formal acknowledgement," Snape stated. "I plan to ask Harry's professors to start sending his coursework this summer, so his workload is spaced out over time."

"A smart idea, but remember the Wizarding world has laws requiring accommodations to be made concerning children who are too sick to attend classes," Miss Adamson reminded the Professor. "It would be in Harry's best interest to have the paperwork filed in case the Ministry or anyone else tried to interfere."

Like Umbridge, Harry shivered at the thought of the Ministry plant, his left hand covering his right where the scars from her numerous detentions lay.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, not understanding the wizarding education laws. Did it mean he could be expelled for missing so many classes? It wouldn't surprise him if that happened since it seemed that every year he was in danger of being expelled.

"It means that with the proper paperwork filed, a teacher cannot refuse to send or grade your coursework, and that they must grade you according to your restrictions or limitations at the time," Miss Adamson explained. "For example, because of your compromised immune system, you won't be able to brew potions or even prepare ingredients because of the germs and diseases that some ingredients carry. Therefore, it wouldn't be fair if Professor Snape based fifty percent of your grade on practicals."

"I can't brew potions," Harry perked up. Private Potions lessons with Snape was not something Harry had been looking forward to. He had a hard enough time with the man watching his cauldron in class and couldn't imagine how much worse it would be with the Potions Master's attention focused solely on him.

"No. That might prove a hard sacrifice considering your area of expertise, Severus, but I'm sure with your knowledge you can develop a lesson plan for Harry based on theory that'll enable him to be caught up with his peers once he's cleared to brew again."

Harry turned to look at his professor. The man looked flabbergasted and somewhat lost. It wasn't a good look on Snape at all. "I forgot the potential hazards that some ingredients carry," Snape trailed off. Harry wondered what the big deal was. It wasn't like Severus was the one being banned from brewing.

"Along the same lines, make sure not to handle any reptiles including snakes, and I'd keep contact with your owl to a minimum, especially during low blood counts," Miss Adamson warned.

"But Flurry is fine?" Harry asked taking the tiny cat out of Miss Adamson's lap and setting her on his lap to pet.

"Yes, but it would be best not to allow her on your bed," the Specialist answered.

"Oh," Harry frowned, picking up Flurry to set her down.

"She's fine for today," Miss Adamson held up her hand to stop him. "Just be sure to change your bedding before tomorrow. Your counts haven't been affected by the chemo yet."

"Okay," Harry returned Flurry to his lap wondering how they'd accomplish keeping Flurry from jumping up onto his bed. He was growing quite used to having the fluffy fur ball sleep curled up beside him.

"Not only will you be susceptible to catching something, but when your blood counts are low enough, especially your platelets, your blood won't clot normally. You'll have to be careful not to cut yourself and if you do, tell Severus, Poppy, or I right away," Miss Adamson said seriously. "From time to time, you'll receive blood and platelet transfusions to help with your counts, but you'll still need to be careful. I'd suggest that you two take some time to charm the knives to be resistant to human skin as a simple precaution that'll pay off in the end."

"We will," Snape confirmed.

Harry felt like a baby being told the knives needed to be charmed for his benefit. He hadn't cut himself with a knife since he was little! However, the other part of him knew how easy it was for a knife to slip and if it meant he had to feel a little childish in order to prevent a potential setback then he'd deal with it. At least someone cared enough to take the precaution. The Dursleys would've never agreed to that simple suggestion, even if they had magic. Uncle Vernon would sharpen all the knives instead, probably the forks somehow, too.

"Good," Miss Adamson smiled while she reached back into her tote and brought out a large scroll. "I have the medication and chemo schedule written out in detail on this scroll for you to stick up," she said to his professor.

"Thank you," Snape said taking the scroll from the Specialist.

"Would you like to go over it, Harry?" she asked him. "Some teens like to know exactly what to expect a month ahead and others like to take it day by day."

Harry thought about it. It might be nice to know what to expect for the following month, but if it was detailed that meant it likely listed every single pill and what time he needed to take it. It would be a lot if the morning's pill distribution was anything to go by, and that was enough to overwhelm him. He also didn't know if he could handle that much right now. Harry was still feeling the effects from yesterday and didn't want a repeat performance of that, ever.

"I think day by day," Harry answered, his voice tentative and unsure.

"Harry, if at anytime you wish to know, we'll go over it, okay? I'm going to stick it up in the hall a little past your door so if you don't want to look, you don't have to," Harry felt Severus place his hand over Harry's trembling one that rested on Flurry.

He nodded, thankful for the option to change his mind at anytime.

"I've found it helps to develop a schedule so that everyone knows what to expect, and there's less anxiety stressing over the little things," Miss Adamson suggested.

"I have a tentative one already written," Snape answered.

"Excellent," the Specialist sprang to sit up straight, looking as if she was holding back from clapping her hands in excitement. "Harry, you don't realize how well Professor Snape is prepared to get you through the treatments."

Harry nodded, but he did know. Without Snape, he'd be locked in his cupboard at the Dursleys without hope of receiving treatment or having to hire a taxi to take him to his treatments. Even if Sirius were alive, Harry knew he wouldn't be taken care of as well. Sirius loved him, but as much as it hurt Harry to admit, the man would be more likely to encourage him to bend the rules though he wasn't going to think about Sirius anymore. It hurt too much.

"Harry?" Severus asked with a hard squeeze to his hand.

"Huh?" Harry jumped, his eyes snapping up to look at his professor.

"I asked if ten is an agreeable time for Miss Adamson to come to start your chemo," Snape repeated without a hint of malice that he usually used when made to repeat something because a student wasn't paying attention.

"Yeah," Harry shrugged. He didn't have an opinion one way or another.

"I have one test to perform before taking my leave. It shouldn't take long as I'm sure you're growing sick of my presence," Miss Adamson smiled a knowing smile that left no hint of resentment. Harry figured the Specialist was used to not being wanted around long by her patients. After all, her presence usually meant bad news.

"Okay," Harry said, hoping this exam was pain free. He had enough pain to last him years, but he knew it was only the beginning.

"When was the last time you had your eyes checked?" she asked, startling Harry by her question.

"I don't remember," he lied. Harry didn't want to admit the one and only time his Aunt Petunia had bothered to have his eyes checked was after one of his primary school teachers sent a note home requesting Harry see an optometrist after noticing how much he tried to get closer to the blackboard, even from the front row.

"Take off your glasses for me then, sweetie," Miss Adamson gave Harry a reassuring smile. "I need to record your prescription now to compare to your prescription after treatment ends. There's a small chance the chemo may affect your sight by requiring a stronger prescription. Have you ever had your eyes tested the magical way?"

Harry shook his head as he took his glasses off revealing a blurry world. He didn't know if it was possible for his eyes to worsen and wondered if he'd even notice a change.

"All right then. There's nothing to worry about. Look here," the Specialist guided his chin to look at her lighted wand. Harry trapped Snape's hand between his own. He didn't have much faith in the smallest procedure to not be painful at the moment. "I'm going to perform a spell on your eyes one at a time. You'll feel a slight tingle that might tickle, but try to keep your eye open. When your vision clears, raise your hand. Close your left eye. We'll do the right one first."

Harry closed his left eye and felt a magical pulse-like tingle as his vision cleared in steps until he could see clearly out of his eye without glasses for the first time in his memory. He almost forgot to raise his hand he was so shocked! It was clearer than seeing through his glasses.

Miss Adamson chuckled and a second later his vision became blurry once again. Harry wanted to pout and demand she repeat the spell, but somehow make it permanent. It was amazing to see the smallest of details without squinting or being up close. He switched eyes, and she repeated the spell giving Harry a few more seconds of complete clarity.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" the Specialist said as Harry squinted to be able to make out Miss Adamson waving her wand over his glasses. "You were long overdue to have your eyes checked. Now, put on your glasses."

Harry felt his glasses pressed into his hand, and he slid them onto his face. He blinked as his eyes adjusted to reveal a clearer world, almost as clear as when she had the spell on his eyes. "Thanks!" he smiled, looking around the room to spot the small print he couldn't read before, but now could.

"You're welcome. Now, lie back, and I'll unhook you," the Specialist motioned as she crossed the room to his bathroom to wash her hands again.

------

After watching Miss Adamson unhook Harry and flush each lumen of his Hickman, Severus led the Specialist out of Harry's room as the boy was fighting sleep, his fatigue hitting him full force once he laid back. "Would you like a cup of tea or coffee before you go?" he offered to be polite.

"No thank you. I really must get back to St. Mungo's, but I have a few things that I didn't go over with Harry that I thought you could as it became appropriate," Miss Adamson set her large tote bag down.

"Of course," Severus replied knowing it was best to not address everything at once. Mentally, Harry was recovering from yesterday's breakdown, and they needed to treat his fragile mental state delicately for a few days.

He watched her pull out a large transparent plastic bag that he identified as a Ziploc bag from his visits with his parents. It was filled with toothbrushes, mouthwash, and individually wrapped pink spongy things. "Here's an oral care package. There are instructions inside if you need them."

Severus nodded. He knew before the Specialist brought it up that he'd need to talk to Harry about appropriate oral care while undergoing chemotherapy.

"There are a few other things in here like a box of sugar-free freeze pops the kids love and a bag of sour candy for when the IV meds or chemo leave a taste in his mouth, but I also included a few boxes of supplies to care for his Hickman and a journal to keep track of his side effects, temp, weight, etc," she listed off as she peered in the tote. "Let me know when you need more supplies."

"Thank you, I'll be sure to let you know at least a day in advance."

"Don't mention it. I need to get back to check on my other kids, so I'll see you and Harry at ten tomorrow morning."

"Ten it is," Severus said with finality as he escorted Miss Adamson to the floo. Ten marked Harry's official entrance into treatment, leading to crashing blood and platelet counts in order to kill the cancer cells, a world where those counts ruled their lives for the next few months.