Half-way staggering into Harry's room as he focused on blocking out the searing pain from his Dark Mark, Severus' eyes widened at the sight of the screaming child. Harry lay curled up into the tightest ball possible, his hands clawing at his scar. He had heard of the mental link between Harry and the Dark Lord, but Severus had never seen the connection at work. It was terrifying to see the child in so much pain.

"Help," Harry forced out between screams, his voice desperate and pained.

Rushing over to Harry's bedside, Severus climbed right into the middle of the bed. He lifted Harry up into his arms, careful of the tubes connected to him by his Hickman because no matter what was happening with the Dark Lord, the chemotherapy needed to continue to drip into Harry's fragile body.

"Look at me," Severus demanded as he situated the boy in his lap, pinning Harry's arms to his sides. "Don't break eye contact."

Harry nodded, and Severus hesitated before entering the child's mind as gently as possible, hoping the whole time that Harry didn't feel violated by his actions.

It was clear to Severus the moment he sunk into Harry's mind that the Dark Lord was present. He could feel the dark, poisonous presence of his former master, the same presence that had been inflicted upon his own mind more times than he could count. Severus had to expel the Dark Lord from Harry's mind before the madman harmed the child, but first Severus had to hide Harry away.

"Don't fight me," he whispered to the small child that sat in the middle of the dark, circular stage that either Harry or the Dark Lord had conjured. The Dark Lord's presence swirled around the circle like a frightening black twister at lightening fast speeds. The small child looked five rather than fifteen and he had his arms wrapped around his knobby knees, rocking back and forth.

"Trust me," Severus' glowing wisp extended out to the child. Harry latched onto the wisp and they sunk through the floor, flying past layer after layer until they reached the innermost part of Harry's mind.

"Is the monster gone?" the small child asked him as Severus' wisp set the boy down on a sandy beach, much like the one depicted on Harry's mural.

"No, but as long as you stay here, you'll be safe," he told the boy, his wisp creating a gentle breeze which wrapped around the child and ruffled his hair. "Can you do that for me?"

"Can I build sandcastles?" Harry asked, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Yes, make a big sandcastle for me to see when I return," Severus conjured up a collection of plastic buckets and shovels. "Promise me you'll stay here."

"I promise! I've never built a sandcastle before! I'll make one just for you, the monster slayer," the small child reached for a bright green bucket and blue shovel.

"Good, I'll return soon," Severus promised the boy as his glowing wisp ascended back up through Harry's mind until he was back at the circular platform surrounded by the Dark Lord.

"Ah, Severus," the black mass taunted him, "my little traitor. How appropriate it is that you should be protecting the boy."

"Leave," he threatened, his wisp glowing brighter.

"Why would I want to do that when I could destroy both of you at the same time?" he cackled.

The Dark Lord closed in on Severus' wisp, but he was ready. Entangling his wisp with the Dark Lord's, Severus battled the man for control of Harry's mind. He darted in, out, and through the madman's black mass, breaking up the twister and infuriating the Dark Lord more and more. Severus wasn't a master Occlumens for nothing, and even the strange stage set in Harry's mind didn't faze him.

"Go," Severus demanded, his wisp growing as he gained more control of Harry's mind.

"No," the Dark Lord insisted, increasing his power as his black mass darkened further.

Severus pushed more power into his wisp and started to wrap around the Dark Lord's mass until his wisp had engulfed it completely. Then, he used his wisp to clamp down, squeezing the Dark Lord's mass until the madman was forced to leave Harry's mind.

"I'll be back," the Dark Lord warned before disappearing out of Harry's mind.

Descending back into Harry's mind, Severus returned to the beach where he had left Harry, or the small child that represented him anyway. The boy was covered in sand as he crawled on his knees, digging out a mote around a small lop-sided sandcastle.

"Look," the child jumped up, pointing to his creation.

"Very good, but it's time to return," Severus' wisp extended out to the boy again. "The monster is gone."

"Do I have to?" the boy whined, looking back at his collection of buckets and shovels.

"Yes," Severus confirmed. "Come, child."

With a sigh, the small boy latched onto Severus' wisp. The Potions Master returned the child to the circular stage that was now glowing with light before extracting himself from Harry's mind.

-----

Harry cringed at the hoarse screaming echoing around the room. It hurt his ears, not to mention his throbbing headache.

"Shh," a silky voice whispered as Harry felt the strong arms wrapped around him. He blinked, and it was only then that Harry realized that horrible screaming was coming from him, and that Voldemort had invaded his mind.

"Professor?" Harry croaked out, cringing at the sound of his voice.

"Do you remember what happened?" Severus asked him as Harry leaned more of his weight against his professor's chest, breathing in the lingering minty smell that emanated off his clothes. He felt safe wrapped up in the strong arms of the man that had protected him more times than he could count.

"Yeah," Harry answered burrowing his head into Severus' shoulder, "but it was strange. Usually, I see through his eyes, but this time it felt like he was attacking me. There was darkness all around until you came and took me away. I don't remember where you took me except that it was safe and away from Voldemort."

"I took you into the inner recesses of your mind. Indeed, it was a mental attack from the Dark Lord. He's never done that before?" the Potions Master asked, his fingers running through Harry's hair. The motions soothed Harry's frazzled state and even helped his pounding headache.

"No," Harry shook his head once before realizing his mistake. He broke free of Severus' hold, scrambling to the edge of the bed before heaving a foamy, acidic mess onto the stone floor.

"Here, Harry," Severus pushed the basin into his hands.

Harry stayed bent over the basin through two more waves of nausea before he was able to move. "I'm sorry," he apologized, motioning towards the floor.

"Don't apologize for what you can't help," the Potions Master took the basin from him. "Magic is useful for some things after all."

Feeling a bead of moisture trickling down his forehead, Harry wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, only to discover it wasn't sweat, but blood. "Professor?" Harry's voice cracked, his eyes wide in fear, as he turned to face Snape, holding out his blood-covered hand.

"Your scar," Severus said, jumping out of Harry's bed. Harry gulped. His scar was bleeding? How was that even possible? It was a mental attack, not a physical one. "Sit up," his professor motioned as he pulled gloves onto his hands.

Harry pushed himself into a sitting position, leaning heavily against his pillows for support. He was exhausted, nauseated, and in pain, but he was too scared to go to sleep. Voldemort could slip into his head while he slept and send him a vision or attack again.

"This will sting a bit," the Potions Master warned as he poured alcohol onto a patch of gauze before tilting Harry's chin up and using the patch of gauze to swab up the blood and clean out his open scar.

Biting down on his lip, Harry forced himself to stay still as the alcohol seeped into his scar. It stung even though Snape was trying to be gentle. Harry clenched the duvet with his fists, waiting for the stinging sensation to go away. Finally, even though it was really only a few seconds, Severus withdrew the alcohol soaked gauze and pressed a clean gauze pad to his scar.

"Hold that there," his professor instructed. Harry raised his left hand to the gauze pad where Severus waited for Harry's hand to cover the pad before letting go. "Scourgify," the Potions Master directed towards Harry's blood-soaked hand with a wave of his hand.

"Oh my, what happened?" Miss Adamson walked into the room carrying the requested bag of anti-emetics.

"Nothing," Harry said at the same time as his professor. He really didn't wish to rehash the mental attack from Voldemort with the Specialist.

"That doesn't look like nothing," Miss Adamson hung the new bag of anti-emetics before stepping towards him. "Remove the gauze for a second, so I can see."

"It's his scar," Severus interrupted, giving Harry a look that made him keep the gauze pad firmly against his scar. "I have it under control," the Potions Master hissed.

"If you're sure," she huffed, connecting him to the new anti-emetics without another word. "Floo if you need me before I bring the next bag of chemo." And with that, Miss Adamson left.

Harry let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "Thank you," he yawned, sinking further into his pillows. "Can I move my hand yet?"

"Yes," Severus nodded, unwrapping a plaster.

"Do you have to?" Harry scrunched up his face at the sight of the rather large plaster. He didn't want a huge bandage stuck on his forehead even if he wasn't leaving Snape's quarters anytime soon. "Can't you heal it with magic?"

"First, you should know by now that it's unwise to use magic on a curse scar," Severus lectured. "Second, no studies have been done detailing which healing spells will or will not interact with your treatment or your cancer. It would be foolish to take such a risk just because you don't wish to be seen with a plaster on your forehead regardless of the fact that myself and Miss Adamson will be the only ones to see it."

"Alright, I get your point," Harry sighed. "It's not easy knowing there's magic that can cure pretty much everything else, but what I have."

"I know," Snape squeezed a bit of ointment onto his scar before sticking the plaster over it. "The bleeding has almost stopped. We can't be careless and let it become infected."

Harry nodded, slipping on his glasses that Snape offered to him. He stared down at the gauze pad, a bright red spot of blood in its center. His blood didn't look any different than it had before. "It's strange," he said.

"What is?"

"My blood," Harry explained. "It looks the same as it always has. You'd think it would look different because of the cancer cells in it."

"It does under a microscope," Severus took the gauze pad from his hands and threw it away with his gloves in the red garbage can. "How bad is your headache?"

"Bad," he said, the throbbing in his head refusing to abate. "The Tylenol didn't help much last time."

"I'll give you a bit of morphine and if you need more after that, we'll talk to Miss Adamson about getting you a PCA pump," Snape walked over to a locked set of drawers after summoning a new set of gloves.

"What's a PCA pump?" Harry watched his professor perform a silent and wandless unlocking charm. He knew Snape enough to know it wasn't a simple alohomora, and Harry found himself fascinated with how much magic Snape could perform silently and wandlessly. In Potions, it had never been apparent how powerful his professor was, even though Harry knew he had to be somewhat powerful to be a spy, but he had never seen or paid attention to how much effortless magic Severus performed daily.

"A patient controlled analgesia pump is basically a pump that allows you to push a button when you're in pain, and it'll release an extra burst of pain medication," Snape picked up a syringe filled with a small dose of morphine from an open drawer.

"But what if I press it too much?" Harry liked the idea of being able to push a button without having to rely on others, but he was afraid of overdosing.

"The pump won't allow you to overdose," Severus explained as he walked over to his infusion pump with the syringe. "If you press the button too many times, the pump won't deliver another dose at that time. It'll also keep track of when you press the button, and if we need to make adjustments we can."

"I won't get addicted? I've heard of Muggles who get addicted to pain killers." The last thing Harry wanted was another problem to take care of.

"Hold on a second," Severus pushed the morphine into an IV injection port on the saline line. "The morphine shouldn't take long to work." He crossed the room to dispose of his gloves and syringe before perching on the edge of Harry's bed. "We need to discuss your last statement."

"Then it's likely I'll get addicted?" Harry fumbled with his duvet. He'd rather handle the pain than get addicted to pain killers.

"No, which is why we need to have this discussion now," Severus set his hand over Harry's hands, stopping his fumbling. "When you receive pain medication, it'll be regulated and only when you need it. It's a misconception that cancer patients become addicted to pain medication."

Harry nodded, looking up to see Snape watching him. He averted his gaze back down to his duvet.

"Harry, it's important that you understand this because you shouldn't allow yourself to be in pain when we can manage it with medication," his professor squeezed his hands.

"Okay," he whispered, feeling like he was a walking pharmacy. He hadn't had so much medication in one day or ever. The most he ever got from his Aunt Petunia was a dose or two from the locked medicine cabinet so that he didn't get sick enough that she'd have to take him to a doctor.

"Is your headache abating?"

"Yeah," Harry hadn't realized it until Snape mentioned it as he was too used to dealing with pain, but the pounding had lessened.

"And your nausea?" the Potions Master asked as he flicked his wand, casting a general stat scan over him.

"Same," he shrugged. So far, the new anti-emetic drug felt like it was as useless as the previous one. Harry longed to just lie back down and fall back asleep. It was the only thing that had helped him escape from the constant nausea so far, but he couldn't because Voldemort might be waiting for the opportunity. Nevertheless, Harry yawned.

"Tired? The morphine might make you a little drowsy," Severus said.

"No," he stated.

"Harry," the Potions Master pried.

He drew his knees up to his chest and withdrew his hands from Severus'. "I don't want him to get in my head again," Harry whispered, burying his head into his knees.

"We need to start Occlumency lessons again," Snape shifted so that he was sitting next to him.

"I knew you'd say that," he leaned into his professor's side, unable to stop himself from seeking comfort despite the subject of Occlumency lessons.

"It won't be like before," Severus promised, his arm wrapping around Harry. He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of safety he got from this Snape. He liked this Snape, not the greasy bastard who raped his mind instead of teaching him Occlumency. It was hard for Harry to believe that it was the same person, and he wondered how he had warmed up to Snape so fast. It was like his professor changed the moment he suspected something was seriously wrong with Harry, and he hadn't, still didn't have the energy to fight with the man and challenge the change.

"This isn't an act, is it?" Harry needed reassurance that Snape wouldn't turn back into the cold, hateful professor that he used to be towards him.

"An act?"

"You, being nice to me," he clarified.

"No, Harry," Severus pulled him closer. "I promise you this isn't an act."

"Why? I mean you hated me," Harry accused.

"I never hated you. Disliked? Annoyed that Professor Dumbledore and the rest of the staff let you and your friends get away with your irresponsible acts? Yes, but most of my preconceived notions were proven wrong."

"What changed?" Harry shifted more of his weight onto Snape.

"I saw how much pain you were in during the bone marrow biopsy, yet you hardly complained," Severus explained. "I also saw a bit of your mother in you that day, which forced me to look past your father. I saw you, as Harry, for the first time that day, not your father or mother. You, the child who lived those incidents I saw during our Occlumency lessons."

"Can we not speak about those," Harry cringed, not wanting to discuss the bits Snape had seen from his life with the Dursleys. He was ashamed and embarrassed by those memories.

"We will eventually, when you're ready," Severus promised. "Those memories I saw saved you from another summer with those despicable Muggles."

"What?" Harry popped his head up to look at his professor.

"I reported some of the incidents to the Headmaster, and it convinced him to allow you to stay here for the summer," Snape ran a hand through Harry's hair.

"Thank you," Harry whispered in disbelief. Someone had finally listened. After all the years of adults dismissing his claims, believing his relatives', or ignoring the few things Harry let slip, someone did something to get him out of his relatives' home.

A tear slipped out of Harry's eye, but he quickly brushed it away. Snape, who at the time didn't hate him, but disliked him, did more for him than any other adult in his life. "Thank you," he repeated, wrapping his arms round Snape's waist in a hug. He felt Severus stiffen and withdrew his hold. "Sorry."

"It's fine," the Potions Master nudged Harry to sit up.

Harry frowned. Had he crossed a line? He backed away from Snape a bit to give the man some personal space. He watched as the man picked up a pillow before settling back against the rest of the pillows.

The Potions Master laid the pillow across his lap and patted it for Harry to lie down. With a bright smile he laid down on his side with his head on the pillow in Severus' lap.

"The first step to learning Occlumency is to relax," Severus explained, his voice calm and soothing.

Harry tensed, but his professor gently turned his head so that he was looking up at him and started to massage his temples. "Close your eyes, relax, and follow my instructions. This is a guided meditation exercise and won't involve any form of Occlumency or Legilimency."

Closing his eyes, Harry felt his entire body relax as Snape's calloused fingers worked wonders for the dull ache he still felt from his headache. He was almost asleep when Severus gave him his first instructions, but Harry concentrated on feeling the top of his head just like Snape said, enjoying a lesson from his once most hated professor for the first time.