Having already packed all of his stuff for Hogwarts the night before, Harry found himself standing in the doorway to the master bedroom, looking in, unable to step inside. Before last year, he'd have entered the room with no problem, but now—not so much. Not when he knew it could upset his mum, something he hated seeing with a passion.

Like usual now, she was sitting in one of the comfy chairs closest to the window, just staring outside at nothing in particular. At least nothing Harry could see. She had her back to him, hugging her legs against her chest. He couldn't see her face, but he knew the look she wore all too well nowadays. Sadness. Deep, deep sadness. He'd give her all the hugs in the world if it'd help. But so far his hugs hadn't helped in the slightest. So much for love healing all wounds.

"Mum?" murmured the thirteen-year-old as he continued to hover by the door. When he caught her head move ever so slightly towards his voice, he pressed on. "Can I come in?" Her legs dropped to the floor with a thump before she slowly turned towards him.

"Harry." She blinked rapidly to clear her mind before a sad smile of recognition came over face. "Of course you can, love." She held out an arm, giving a quiet laugh when he rushed to her and hugged her fiercely. "Hey, now. I'm not dying. So, there's no need for such strong hugs," she teased, the smile not quite reaching her face.

He pulled back from her somewhat and met her eyes. From what the matron had been saying earlier to them, he wasn't sure just how long he would still have to give her such hugs. When he felt her fingers tenderly brush back his raven locks, he closed his eyes, turning instinctively into her hand. It wasn't fair. She was such a great mother for him, even if she wasn't biologically speaking.

"The potions are working. You heard Madam Pomfrey." She gently wiped away a few of his tears. "So, stop this nonsense, Harry. I'm fine for the time being."

"I don't want to lose you," he admitted somberly.

"Oh, hush." She rolled her eyes before she kissed his forehead. "Weren't you the one telling me just the other day that you and Severus would never let me be alone ever again?"

Harry laughed through more tears and nodded. He had said that. He just hadn't known she had heard that, though, as she had seemed lost in her own little world when he said it.

"So, how on earth then are you going to lose me?"

His lip trembled. He knew he was being a big old cry baby, but it'd be just his luck to lose the one mother who truly did love him and him alone. As he felt her head rest gently atop of his, he sniffled and hugged her even tighter.

"You're a really good mum . . . and I don't want to lose you . . .because I feel loved for the first time . . . please . . . please fight, Mum," the thirteen-year-old begged, knowing deep down he was acting irrational. "Please. We need you. Dad and I need you."

"Oh, my sweet Harry," she whispered back, shaking her head lightly. "It's okay. Really. It is. Loads of people have terrible illnesses, and they don't necessarily die. So, please stop being sad and worrying about what's to come. I do enough of that for the both of us, okay?" She then sighed quietly, her fingers running through his hair tenderly once more as the silence settled around them. "You excited to go back to Hogwarts this year?"

Harry shook his head, though. How could he be excited when his mum needed him and his dad?

"No? Why ever not?" She gave a short laugh. "You finally get to learn all about the great art of Divination and meet Professor Trelawney. And trust me. If it weren't for her, Divination would not be nearly as interesting. What with her talk about her Inner Eye and frequent Grim-watching." She then lowered her voice. "Between you and me, I swear she makes a sport out of it, scaring all of you with such nonsense."

As he listened to her, he found himself regaining his composure once again. It was plain to see that she didn't hold much stock in Divination at all. It was a distraction, he knew, but one they needed.

"You don't like her, do you?" Harry asked quietly.

"Who? Sybill?" Aurora shrugged. "It's not that, love. I just tire of the frequent 'Oh my, you have the Grim' predictions she does. Just once I wish she wouldn't say it to me. I mean, there's only so many times you can hear that silly thing before you become annoyed." She frowned. "Actually, I'm surprised she hasn't bombarded you with them yet. Though, Severus would likely throw her arse off her tower if she did. Probably even sprinkle her empty bottles of sherry around her for good measure too."

Harry's eyes narrowed before he glanced upwards at her. "What?"

"Nothing," Aurora said with a laugh. "I'm just rambling again."

Frowning slightly, Harry decided after a moment it was best to leave it alone and move on. He didn't want to ruin any more time they had left together on stupid things like that. After all, he could always ask his dad what she meant if he was that curious.

"Mum?"

"Hmm?" she murmured a few moments later.

"When are you and Dad getting married?"

Deep belly laughs erupted from her instantly. "Oh, Harry, my sweet boy." She kissed his forehead, shaking her head with a wide smile.

"What?" He didn't get why that was funny to her. He was being entirely serious. "You and Dad have been dating for almost a year now. That's, like, forever. So, why not? I mean, I may be young, but I'm not stupid. That is how these things go, Mum."

She laughed quietly and rolled her eyes. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. You see it all the time in books and movies and such."

"No, love. You see it all the time in fiction, not real life. Plus, your father is a cautious man. He wants to be certain he's made the right choice before he decides which path he'll take. He's not one to rush into things, Harry."

The young boy felt his stomach plummet instantly. "But he has to!" he blurted out before quickly covering his mouth and starting at her horrified.

"He has to?" Aurora repeated softly with a blink of confusion. "Why?" Her eyes then narrowed on the young boy who kept his eyes trained on the blanket in front of him. "Because I'm sick again?" She sighed, shaking her head when Harry nodded hesitantly. "Oh, love. I don't want your father to marry me out of pity or obligation. That's no way to start a marriage. He should ask me to marry him because he wants to, not because of that." She scoffed and glanced away in astonishment. "That's something a Gryffindor would do, Harry. Throw himself down on a sword, sacrificing his happiness for mine. Oh, no. I don't want that. And neither would your father. He'd be utterly miserable."

Biting his cheek, Harry kept himself from saying his father would be miserable without her as well. He knew full well how disappointed his dad would be in him if he had said that to her. That knowledge was supposed to be between father and son only.

"Listen to me, Harry. My relationship with your dad . . ." She paused with a sigh, chewing the bottom of her lip as she seemed to think on something for a moment. "Adult relationships of this kind—well, they need a solid foundation, and quite frankly your father and I haven't got that yet. Not after . . ." Her voice broke suddenly, causing Harry to glance up at her again. She had a haunted look in her eyes before she inhaled sharply and continued, as if everything was fine again. "Rushing it like that would do more harm than good. So, we're taking it slow." Her left hand tremored slightly.

"Mum, are you all right?"

"I'm fine."

Even Harry could tell that answer was rehearsed. However, before he could call her on it, he heard a knock in the distance. Someone was at the front door. When he heard his father's voice a moment later, he closed his eyes. His father's footfalls then came closer as he approached.

"Let me guess," Harry heard his mum quip, "it's torture time again?"

That had been her long-standing remark whenever Pomfrey came around to check on her, much to his dad's dislike. With a sigh, his dad shook his head and took several steps towards her.

"Aurora."

"What? If you were forced to—"

"They're trying to help you," Harry's dad argued.

She scoffed. "That's debatable."

Harry's eyes darted to his father instantly and saw his dad's jaw clench slightly. Madam Pomfrey had told them that his mum would test them sometimes. As he watched his father's nostrils flare slightly, Harry felt his stomach clench. He hated when they argued.

"Ah. There you are," a voice suddenly cut in from the doorway. "Hope I'm not interrupting anything." When they turned towards the intruder, a dark-haired man in his mid-thirties wearing a black button down shirt and black slacks flashed a charming smile at them. "But we're wasting valuable time." He politely held his hand out towards Aurora. "Hello, Professor. I'm the man in charge of torturing you today. You may call me 'Arsehole,' 'Git' or, hell, even 'Bastard.' I'll answer to any one of them."

Harry's mouth dropped.

Lowering his hand, the man asked casually, "So, what do you say? Cruciatus first? Or are you wanting something less painful today?" He reached into his pocket, likely to grab his wand.

"Excuse me?" Aurora barked, looking torn between outraged and shocked.

"Well, you find this to be torture, so I thought maybe you needed a reminder of what torture really feels like, my dear."

Aurora flew to her feet and pointed her finger at him. "I know what real torture feels like, damn it. Probably better than you do, you incompetent little weasel," she snarled, glaring at the healer. "I was locked up and experimented on for eight months. Eight goddamn months! So, don't tell me I don't know what real torture is!"

Harry glanced back at the healer and frowned when he saw the man's faint smile. Why was the guy smiling? She hadn't said anything remotely amusing.

"Who are you?" the healer asked suddenly.

"What?" She blinked and shook her head, a hand quickly reaching back for the chair to steady herself as she remained standing.

"Who are you?" the healer repeated, his tone conveyed patience and understanding.

"Aurora Sinistra," she answered, staring back at the healer in confusion.

Even Harry wasn't certain what was going on. And judging by the look on his dad's face, neither did his dad. What did her name have to do with anything?

"What are you, Aurora?" he then asked calmly.

"A very irate witch right now contemplating which curse to use on you, imbecile," she snapped.

The healer laughed quietly and nodded. "I'm sure, but, no, Aurora, that's not what you are. Would you like to know the answer?"

"Not really, but I have a feeling you'll tell me anyway," she snidely replied.

"A survivor." The healer smiled wistfully towards her. "What you went through during those eight months is incomprehensible. And after reading your charts—I don't blame you for disliking me. Not one bit."

"All right . . ."

"I don't even blame you for not trusting me. If I had gone through what you had, I wouldn't trust me either. But in order for me to help you move past your trauma, I'm afraid we're going to have to find some way to work together to deal with this deep distrust of healers you have."

Harry watched his mum for a moment as she considered the man's words for a moment.

"From what I've read in Poppy's reports, family is very important to you," the healer continued. "So, if it's acceptable with you and your family, I would like us to sit together three times a week, at least at first, and discuss whatever any of you feel like discussing. Whether that be Quidditch," the healer glanced at Harry, "or a new potion," the healer looked towards Severus, "or even just a new constellation you found." His eyes finally rested on Aurora. "The topic of the session is up to you. I'm just here to listen. That's all."

Aurora scoffed instantly and shook her head. "Just to listen? What a bunch of bull."

"I'll contribute to the conversation if I have anything to add. Otherwise, I'm just listening."

"And just how exactly is that going to fix me?"

"Fix you?" It was the healer's turn to blink at her this time. "Is something wrong with you?"

Her eyes narrowed on the healer. "Don't give me that crap you healers spew. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You find something there in my mind, some word I used, that you have to exploit and dissect until you eventually grow tired of me and let me go as you move onto your next victim to terrorize."

"Is that how you see healers?" He shrugged. "Explains a lot."

"See? Right there. You're doing it right there. I give you just a little nibble and you run wild with it. Well, it's not going to work. I'm smarter this time."

"And you weren't last time?"

"Of course not. I was nineteen," she replied before her mouth snapped shut as she realized her mistake. Her eyes narrowed into slits once more as she glared at the amused healer.

"Which brings me to my next point." The healer's faint smile faded slightly as seriousness took over. "If at any time you feel more comfortable discussing something with just me, please let me know."

"Like what, my sex life?" Aurora drawled while Harry and Severus both cringed.

"Well, I would think that particular conversation would best be served if Severus was here with you, considering he is your romantic partner."

She gave a short laugh. "So, not only are you a mind healer, you're a relationship expert, too."

"I dabble from time to time," the healer admitted with a shrug. "I mean, after two centuries of being in the medical field, it was only natural that I'd expand into relationships."

Two centuries? Harry's eyes darted back to the healer.

"Yes, Harry," the healer replied, turning towards the young boy. "You heard correct. I said two centuries." He flashed a wide smile towards him, showing off the long pointy canines. "I'm a vampire." He then turned back to Aurora. "Which is why Poppy thought I would be the perfect person for you. Not much you can hide from a vampire, as you well know."

"Wonderful." Harry was pretty certain judging by the way she had said it, that his mum was being extremely sarcastic.

"Now, I'm certain you're drained from standing so long, so I'll leave you to rest. I just wanted to introduce myself to you today. We'll talk more in depth after all of you return to the castle. Let's say, Wednesday at seven? That way all of you have a chance to get settled in beforehand."

"Or at least some of us can," Aurora mumbled bitterly.

"Oh?" the healer said. "Then you won't be sitting beside Severus at the Welcoming Feast?"

"I'm not teaching this year."

"So? I mean, perhaps I'm wrong, but I wasn't aware that Hogwarts had a stipulation that stated professors who were on temporary medical leave were not allowed to sit beside her coworkers. If so, then perhaps someone should write the board outlining the positive benefits of you being there would have on the staff and students."

"Positive benefits?" she repeated with a laugh of disbelief.

"You would be returning to a routine, Aurora, which is something that is vital for victims of traumatic events. You would also be showing the whole school your strength."

"But . . ."

"Now, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying it will be easy for you, because it won't. If I had to guess, I'd say this past summer you locked yourself up here in this cottage with Severus and Harry. And you three shut out the rest of the world. So, returning to real life, namely the Great Hall, would mean you would be around more people than you are used to. It'll be easy for Harry to return to normal life, as he's young. However, for you two, it'll require more effort to adjust to the changes. But Severus is patient and very perceptive, so I have no fear he will do what is necessary if something occurs."

As he listened to the healer, Harry found himself thinking for a few moments. Was that what they had been doing? Shutting out the entire world? A frown made its way across his face. Was that why his grandparents had left? But that didn't make sense. His grandparents had said they were moving out because Harry, Severus, and Aurora needed their space.

Biting his bottom lip, the young boy contemplated sending Hedwig to his grandparents later asking them if that was why they had left. However, he eventually decided against sending them a message. He truthfully didn't want to know the answer. Not when there was a chance his grandparents had left because of them.

"Come on," his dad said quietly after the healer had left. "Let's sit down and rest again."

Harry glanced up the moment he heard his father's voice. His stomach twisted the moment he saw how pale Aurora had become. His eyes fell to the floor in disappointment. Life wasn't fair.

Knocking on his son's half-opened door several hours later, Severus waited until he heard the muffled 'Come in' before he entered.

"You were quiet at dinner tonight," Severus stated softly, closing the door behind him before he leaned against the wall. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah. Just had nothing to say." The green eyes darted back into the textbook instantly.

"Seems like a lot of that is going around lately," Severus drawled, crossing his arms. "What is it, Harry? What's bothering you?"

"No. You'll just get upset. It's fine."

"I won't. Now, tell me. What is it? What's wrong?" Severus sighed silently. Harry and Aurora were a lot more alike than they knew.

Hesitantly, his son's green eyes met his black eyes.

"You, um, well, you don't think Grandmum and Grandpa left because of us, do you?" the young boy softly whispered with a trembling bottom lip.

"Of course not." Severus walked towards his son slowly before he knelt down beside the thirteen-year-old. Gently resting a hand on the boy's shoulder, he continued. "Harry, they left because there isn't a whole lot of extra space here for all of us, and they knew it. So, they moved back to their row house. If you want, though, I can Firecall them and you can hear it from them yourself?"

Harry shook his head, though. "No. That's okay, Dad." He gave him a faint smile before his eyes darted down to his book again.

"What else is bothering you?" Severus gently tilted his son's head up so Harry would be looking at him again. "I can't help if you don't tell me."

"It's stupid" was the quiet reply.

"I'll be the judge of that. Now, what is it?"

He watched his son wrestle with himself for several minutes. The boy clearly didn't want to tell him whatsoever. However, once his eyes met the beautiful green again, he knew Harry had decided.

"I can still come down whenever I want and see you and Mum, right?"

"Of course you can. We're not going anywhere."

"Yeah, I know that, but, I mean, after I'm dropped off tomorrow with the Weasleys, I can still come see you guys, though."

"Yes, Harry. You can still come visit us whenever you need to in the dungeons." Severus's eyes then narrowed as his son's words echoed in his mind. "Wait. Why do you think I'm dropping you off with the Weasleys tomorrow?"

"Aren't you?"

"I hadn't planned on it," Severus answered honestly.

"Oh." The little boy's face fell again.

"Did you want me to drop you off with the Weasleys?" He had thought Harry still wanted to ride the train back to Hogwarts. But if the boy had changed his mind now . . .

"No."

"Then, forgive me, son, but why are you disappointed?"

"I'm not." The young boy shrugged, clearly lying.

"Harry," Severus said quietly, giving him a stern look.

"It's just I thought maybe you were saying you were going to drop me off at King's Cross this year like all the other kids. But I'm fine Flooing back to Hogwarts too."

Severus couldn't stop the smile from crossing his face. "I planned on dropping you off at King's Cross this year, Harry. Your grandparents are even planning to be there." He ruffled his son's hair affectionately when the boy's face lit up. "Don't always assume the worst, child. Leave that to me."

"What about Mum? Is she going to be there, too?"

Forcing his face to remain neutral, Severus shook his head slowly. "I don't know, son. It's going to have to depend on how well she's feeling tomorrow." He watched Harry's face fall slightly before the young boy quickly recovered. He wished he could tell the boy 'yes,' but he didn't want to lie to him. "Now, go on, brat. Get into bed. You can finish reading about elixirs tomorrow."

"You're still going to tuck me in?" Harry asked as he hopped off his chair.

"Unless you don't want me to?" Severus replied, stopping in midstride. He hadn't even considered that the boy wouldn't want him to tuck him in anymore. It had been a routine they had developed over their years together. One that Severus enjoyed as it made him feel as if he hadn't truly missed all of the boy's life as he had.

Harry smiled back at him, though, sliding into bed. "No. It's good, Dad. I like it when you tuck me in." His eyes then fell to his blanket as his voice lowered. "Which I know is a baby thing."

"Hardly." Severus returned a faint smile to his son before he motioned for the boy to move over a bit. He sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed. "Do not tell anyone this ever, young man. But your grandmum still on occasion tucks me in nowadays, and I'm older than dirt." He rolled his eyes when the little brat started giggling. "Yes, laugh all you want, Mister Potter, but keep in mind that I know some pretty damaging stuff about you. Like how you enjoy being hugged by me."

"So? You're my dad," Harry said with a laugh. "Of course I like your hugs."

"But I'm the Head of Slytherin."

"So?" Harry rolled his eyes. "And Mum is your assistant or whatever down there. That doesn't matter any. You're my parents. All kids enjoy their parents' hugs, Dad."

"Fine. Then I'll tell everyone how you rolled around in troll boogers once."

"Ew! Dad!" Harry shrieked, covering his ears before he started laughing again. "Okay. You win. I won't tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me."

"Good. Because otherwise I'll broadcast it to the whole school . . . Harry Potter and the Troll Boogers. Sounds like a pretty good story, doesn't it? I bet the Prophet would pay me a year's salary for it." He chuckled when Harry lightly pushed him. "Good night, brat."

"Good night, Dad."

He kissed his son's forehead and ruffled Harry's hair one last time before he headed towards the door. Flicking his wand, all the lights in the room went out suddenly. Tomorrow, they would be back at Hogwarts. He hoped just once the year would be quiet, but he knew it wouldn't. Life was rarely fair.