7th July, 1996

When Harry started to stir, the first thing he noticed was the feel of a soft blanket against his cheek. He brought it closer against his face and wondered why he hadn't been woken up by any of the other boys in the dorm. He could hear them rustling around the room talking softly and yet they hadn't tried to wake him. His throat was parched and sore and several places on his body, specifically his legs, were screaming from bone pain. Had there been a quidditch accident?

No, he was not in Gryffindor tower at all. Bits and pieces from the previous night came back to him; eating dinner with Snape and the Dursley's - which was probably the highlight of the night - watching Snape find any and every way possible to make Uncle Vernon angry or terrified. Of course, eating didn't seem to be very productive because the next several hours were spent expelling most of it into the loo. Then, the pain medication wore off while he was sleeping and he tried his hardest not to complain about it, but in the end it was more painful than he'd expected. He was finally able to fall asleep some time half-past three in the morning, mostly due to the prescription pain medication, with Snape still sitting in the armchair watching over him.

Moaning more than he would ever tell anyone, his eyes peeled open and saw two blurry figures talking near his door. He leaned over and grabbed his glasses from the desk and plopped them on his face, not caring that they desperately needed to be cleaned.

As he'd expected, the two men were Snape and Healer Smithe. A quick look around the room showed everything appearing in order except a metal stand was now standing between the armchair and the bed, and a large black bag was on the floor beside it.

"Ah! Good morning Harry," Healer Smithe cheerfully greeted when he noticed the young wizard was finally awake. "I heard you had a rough reaction to the I.T. chemo yesterday, so I wanted to let you get as much sleep as possible this morning before we start. I have a stronger antiemetic that I'll give you through your port before the chemo is started."

"Rough is a good way to put it sir," Harry groggily replied, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "Do I have time for a quick shower? I feel kind of gross after last night."

"Yes, we have some time," Snape replied. "There's some more pyjamas in the wardrobe for you."

"Before you go," the healer added, "I'd like to check your port site. Then after the shower, be sure to put on some of the numbing cream."

Harry laid back against his pillows and unbuttoned the top 3 buttons of his shirt to reveal the site. He may not have been qualified to say, but it looked like it was healing well. Healer Smithe put on some gloves and felt around the port.

"Any pain directly relating to the port or area around it?" He asked.

"Not really anymore sir. It just feels," he thought about the best way to describe it, "...different."

"As I said yesterday, you'll get used to the feeling. Let me or Professor Snape know immediately if there's any sudden pain or burning."

Making eye contact with the healer, Harry nodded, "I will sir "

Harry then stood up, putting on the slippers and robe Snape had gotten for him, and opened the wardrobe doors revealing several sets of new pyjamas in a wide range of colors. Grabbing a light green set, he went to the bathroom to get ready.

He returned to his room only 30 minutes later wearing the green pyjamas, robe, and slippers. His room was empty and he briefly wondered where Snape and the healer had gone. He sat down on the plush armchair looking out at the dreary sky which threatened more rain.

A perfect day to be stuck inside.

In front of him on the desk sat a bowl of porridge with sliced bananas and strawberries mixed in, a glass of water, and a small cup of his morning medication. He stared at his breakfast like it was going to jump up and attack him. The irony wasn't lost on him; when he wished for regular meals during the summers, this was not the circumstances he had expected. Wanting to avoid another lecture from Snape, he started with small spoonfuls of the porridge. He'd finished most of it and took the medicine when the door opened.

So much for any privacy.

"Oh good, you're eating," his healer said, walking to Harry and leaning against the bed. "If it's ok, I'd like to get started with a quick blood test and the medicine to help prevent the nausea. Hopefully this will work better than yesterday."

"That sounds good."

Healer Smithe put on a pair of gloves, "I'll be drawing blood before each chemo treatment to check your blood levels before we start."

Harry nodded and the healer took a small phial of blood, then hooked up the antiemetic. Harry was happy that the small needle prick into the port was both quick and painless.

"Ok, we'll let that drip and then get started. I'm going to go and test your sample and be back once that's done. Do you need anything in the meantime?"

"No, sir". Harry looked through the contents on his desk, picking up his charms book deciding to get started on some of his summer assignments. He opened the desk drawers and found it full of muggle paper and pens. He looked down in confusion.

"It'll be easier to do your work this summer with muggle materials," Snape scared him as he hadn't heard the door open.

"Like you will accept anyone's work on paper, especially mine," Harry said sarcastically tossing his book to the side.

"Since I'm the one who got it approved with your professors and provided said materials, I think you'll be just fine." He leaned up against the wardrobe with his arm crossed across his chest.

"Oh," that made sense. In a need to change the subject he asked, "Sir? What's going to happen with Voldemort and, well, all this?" Harry looked up at the bag hanging on his IV stand.

"Professor Dumbledore and I are working on some contingency plans should something arise," Harry wasn't surprised by the generic answer. "We're going to keep you in the protective wards as much as possible in the meantime."

That didn't sound like much of a plan, but he couldn't really go seek out the dark wizard in his current state, so he had to go with it for once.

Snape moved so he was sitting on Harry's bed across from him, when the healer came back in.

"Let's take a look," he walked over and examined the bag of medication hanging. "Almost done. I'd like to go over the schedule while this finishes." Harry nodded, feeling like that was all he did lately.

"Every Sunday, for the next 5 weeks, you'll get a set of 2 medications through your port; both of which are the first line of treatment for ALL. Over all, each of these treatments should take about 2 hours and you'll have a week's rest between them.

"Side effects you may experience are fatigue, nausea, vomiting, low blood counts, which means you can be more prone to illness and bleeding, - Professor Snape will be trying to keep you as germ-free as possible - mouth sores, and hair loss. You should also know that one of them can cause your urine to turn red or pink because of its red color." He paused so Harry and Snape could digest what he'd said.

"How long will all that last?" Harry thought to ask.

"It varies person to person, but the first 24 hours after chemo trends to be the worst of it. You probably won't feel like doing much or eating much today and that's ok. Just eat and sleep when you can.

"That will be it for this week since you did the first intrathecal yesterday. Starting next week, in addition to the Sunday treatments, we'll add an additional one on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday for 3 weeks in a row. It's a different medication that we'll go over next Tuesday."

Harry could feel Snape's eyes on him, so he lifted his head a little higher, refusing to show weakness in front of the man. "One more question," Harry knew it was going to sound petty in the long run, but had to ask, "will my hair really fall out?"

The healer had been expecting that question. Every cancer patient, especially the adolescents, ask it. "Most likely, yes. The chemotherapy drugs target fast growing cells, which is why they work well in getting rid of the cancerous ones, but they can't differentiate the types of cells and hair follicles are unfortunately fast growing. A lot of patients choose to shave their hair when it starts to fall out."

"Gotcha... Let's just get this over with." What else could he honestly say to all that? He watched Healer Smithe switch the bag out and jumped a little when he felt the cold liquid going through the port.

"Everything ok?" Snape asked.

"Erm, yeah it's just cold."

Healer Smithe answered, "That's also expected because the liquid is room temperature. Let me know if you feel any burning though, that's definitely not normal."

Now Harry felt like an animal on display again as the healer and Snape watched him. It was so uncomfortable that he was actually happy when Snape asked him if he'd like to play a game of chess. The healer busied himself around with files he'd brought to review from the hospital.

Harry was slaughtered by Snape at chess, which didn't completely surprise him. He could guess that the spy had to be pretty good at strategically thinking in order to do what he does every day. They played two games before Harry couldn't focus on it anymore.

"I can teach you some strategy to the game," Snape said casually as he was putting the pieces away.

"Maybe by the end of all this, I'll be good enough to actually give Ron some good competition," Harry thought out loud.

"Possibly, but he's a tough player." Snape didn't realize his slip of tongue.

Harry gave the professor a confused look, "How would you know?" It came out harsher than he expected. "Wait, was that a compliment?"

Thinking quickly Snape said, "If I remember correctly, Mr. Weasley did get awarded a significant amount of points, unfairly I might add, at the end of first year for his chess skills did he not?"

Harry wasn't buying it, but as he was nearing the end of the chemo, he was getting too tired to argue. He mentally added it to the ever expanding list of questions about the professor. He leaned his head down on the desk

"You've completed treatment 1 of chemo," Healer Smithe said tapping Harry on the shoulder. Sitting up, the healer removed the line from his port. "Try not to have any expectations for today, if you feel well enough go ahead and do things as normal, if not just rest."

Harry thought resting sounded like the best thing in the world right now, but didn't want to say so. He stood up and went to sit on the bed and Healer Smithe placed a pail on the floor next to him. Harry eyed it warily, silently happy to have it there. He could feel his stomach starting to flip and flop inside him. Snape was discussing his post-care with the healer, so Harry just laid back on the pillows and waited.

"I feel like we find ourselves in this position often," Snape said handing Harry a glass of water yet again once they were alone. "It's imperative you stay hydrated."

Harry took the glass tentatively sipping it, but a minute later found himself forcefully vomiting into the pail Snape was holding for him. When the nausea finally passed, he was sweating but cold, shaking, exhausted, and starting to feel pain through his body.

"Was he a muggle or a wizard?" Harry asked randomly, his voice cracking from all the vomiting.

He suddenly wanted to know more about the boy Snape had known. Watching Snape process the question, Harry noticed how completely exhausted the man looked; he wondered how much sleep Snape had actually gotten lately and felt guilty for being the reason behind it.

Snape's eyes betrayed his grief for a small second before answering, "He was a wizard." Harry didn't miss the confirmation of the past tense "was"... He was no longer alive and Harry assumed it was because of the cancer.

"And he tried to use the potions didn't he?"

"Yes," Snape's soft answer rang through the room. "Which is why, Harry, I didn't want you trying them, the chemotherapy has far better success than potions. By the time we realized they weren't working, there was nothing else we could do."

"Did they make him as miserable as I feel now?" For a split second Harry considered changing his mind if the potions would alleviate his current predicament.

"Yes and no," Snape recalled. "There was a lot of vomiting in the beginning, much for the same reason you are now - killing off the fast growing cells - but our stomach calming draught was more successful at easing the effects until his body was used to it. He didn't lose his hair, but was still very tired all the time.

"In the middle, several months in, we had a long period where things felt normal. He wasn't in any pain, his energy levels were back to normal, no more excessive bleeding or bruising, we thought we had it beat," Snape was starting to speak as if all of this was so long ago and fresh in his mind at the same time. "And then it took a turn and there wasn't anything we could do. No more potions or chemo would help; we were too late. In the end, all I could do was keep him comfortable."

Harry felt the sadness in his professor's voice. "I'm sorry sir." He meant it, he could tell whomever this boy was, the professor still cared deeply for him.

"You don't need to keep calling me sir," was not what Harry expected to hear.

"Erm... ok professor." The irony wasn't lost on Harry that this was the same man that demanded he be called either sir or professor out of respect.

These conversations were getting stranger by the second, but Harry didn't have time to question it before another wave of nausea hit him hard and he was bending over the edge of the bed vomiting into the pail. His throat was burning from the bile, his head pounding into his ears, and he was very aware of the sour smell coming from inside the pail as he leaned back against his pillows. As if Snape had read his mind - and maybe he had - the contents of the bucket vanished.

"I'll be right back," Snape said quietly walking out of the bedroom.

Harry looked out the window to his left where kids, with their parents in tow, splashed through puddles on the side of the road. The kids were holding umbrellas and laughing big belly laughs to their parents. Harry watched enviously for several minutes when he heard his door open.

Snape walked in and sat on the end of the bed.

"Try this," he said handing Harry what looked like an ice lolly. "It's made with a touch of ginger to help settle your stomach, while hydrating you."

"Thank you professor."

"You're welcome Mister Potter," Snape followed where Harry's gaze was when he arrived. The children were still outside playing in puddles.

"You can call me Harry," the young Gryffindor said. "You seem to switch between that and Potter, but you can call me Harry here."

Snape's face didn't give away his happiness at that statement. "Harry, then. You should get some rest."

"I really wish I could, professor," Harry tried not to whine, "I feel exhausted and jittery at the same time and that if I turn the wrong way, I'm going to sick up again."

Harry then heard Snape hiss in pain, hold his left forearm, and curse. Harry's eyes opened wide when he understood what was happening.

"Go, professor. I'll be fine here."

Snape contemplated something and then nodded his head briefly, "Do not leave this house, ok?"

"Ok sir," Harry said thinking that there was no way he was in any condition to leave now anyway.

Snape gave him one more look and ran out of the bedroom.

Later that evening found Harry sitting on the floor of the lavatory shivering. He'd been there for the last hour after waking up from a fitful nap unable to keep anything in his stomach even though it had been emptied 3 rounds of vomiting ago. All of his body was in pain one way or another, and twice his aunt stuck her horse face into the room complaining that he couldn't take up the loo all day.

He was laying across the floor directly in front of the loo when he quietly heard above him,

"Harry?"

He looked up and Dudley was almost nose-to-nose with him. He groaned, "What do you want Dudley?"

"I... Wanted to see if you needed anything," Harry was surprised by the confidence in his cousin's voice.

"I'm fine..." Harry mumbled, lowering his head against the cold, tile floor.

"Sure you are. Where'd your professor go?"

"He got... Called out for work," it was lame, but the best he could think of under the circumstances.

"What kind of work does a professor get called for in the summer?" To that, Harry gave Dudley a glare that would rival Snape's worst.

"Dudley," Harry tried to say but ended up back over the loo instead. Once he'd finally stopped, but still resting over the bowl completely exhausted, a pudgy hand was placed on his back. The last thing he wanted right now was an audience.

"Are... Are you sure I can't get you somthin','' Dudley nervously asked.

"No, I don't know what I can take or how to get a hold of my healer." In hindsight, this was a big oversight on his and Snape's part.

"Healer?" Dudley was genuinely confused.

Harry laid back down on the floor, "A doctor for magical people. Seriously Dudley, I'll be fine." He closed his eyes hoping to finally get some sleep. A soft blanket was draped over his back and for the first time he was starting to warm up.

The next time he opened his eyes, the light to the bathroom had been turned off and the small window showed it was dark outside. The only light was now what filtered in from the street lamps. He rubbed his eyes, realizing his glasses had been removed. Sighing, he sat up feeling like his insides were on fire, but still had a small shiver when the blanket fell off his shoulders.

Feeling around the floor, his hand brushed against something solid; almost like a person. Groaning, he sat up all the way and could see a large blob leaning against the wall near where his head had been. From the steady breath, the blob was sleeping. Frustrated that his glasses weren't anywhere within reach, he was starting to stand to check on the other side of the sleeping blob.

"Looking for these?" He jumped at the sound of Snape's voice. Having solved both mysteries - where his glasses had gone and who was sleeping - he reached for his glasses that were being held out for him.

"Yeah, I was." His voice was hoarse but he tried to ignore that fact. "What are you doing in here? When did you get back?"

"I sat down waiting for you to wake up. I hadn't realized I'd fallen asleep," Snape admitted and Harry thought that had to take some courage for him. "How are you feeling?"

"Like the Knight Bus ran me over... Twice."

"Let's get you up off the cold floor to start," Snape stood up, his robes all wrinkled, and held his hand out to steady Harry as the young man stood. "Have you taken anything?"

Embarrassed, Harry said, "No sir, I wasn't sure what I could take after everything this morning."

"Ah," Snape exclaimed as they rounded into Harry's bedroom. "I should have left instructions."

Harry sat down on his bed noticing a plate of peanut butter toast sitting on his desk. He shivered again at the thought of eating at the moment. Pointing at the food he said, "Thank you professor, but I really can't eat right now."

"I understand, but I believe that came from your cousin," Snape bent down next to the desk and rummaged through a bag Harry just noticed.

"Dudley's been acting strange," Harry said out loud as well as in his head.

With hard eyes, Snape looked at Harry. "If I may, I believe your cousin has just had the realization that you are not infallible."

Harry thought hard about that statement, closing his eyes as images of Harry Hunting flashed through his head; all the times he wished for Dudley to act like this, but had long given up on.

"You need to take your evening medicine," his professor held out a small cup with a variety of tablets and a cup of fizzy off-color liquid.

"What is this?" He asked referring to the beverage.

"Ginger Ale. It will also help settle your stomach."

Harry took a sip and slowly swallowed, taking each tablet with a small space between them to make sure they didn't immediately come back up.

"I don't think I've ever vomited more in my life," midway through one of the episodes, Harry thought about how he had taken for granted his previous good health.

"I spoke to Alton about it and he keeps saying everyone handles it differently. Your magic might be causing some exasperated side effects."

Harry nodded again, his eyes getting extremely heavy.

"Take this," Snape said, handing Harry a black sphere. "If you need me, just squeeze this and it will alert me. The color will change depending on what the issue is, so I can arrive prepared."

Harry placed the sphere on his desk and sunk into his plush pillows.

"G'night sir." Harry mumbled.

"Good night Harry," Snape said, but Harry hadn't heard him. He also didn't feel Snape take off his glasses and place them on the desk before carding his hands through the fringe of his black, messy hair.

~~~~SS~~~~

Earlier that day

"Lemon drop?"

As always, Severus declined the offered sweet from his mentor. Albus would probably have a heart attack if he ever actually took one.

The headmaster gestured to the seat in front of his desk. Severus had apparated to outside of Hogwarts directly after meeting with the Dark Lord, as was customary for these occasions, but he wanted to make this a quick visit so he could get back to Harry. He'd already been gone several hours and should have asked someone to go stay with the ill boy.

Sitting in the plush chair he told Albus, "I need to make this quick as Harry had his first full treatment today and is not well."

"Of course, my boy. Anything of importance to report?"

The Potion Master rubbed his forehead feeling it starting to ache. "This wasn't a full meeting, it appeared that only I was called at least at the time. He's getting impatient about Harry being moved, however that wasn't the purpose of the summons. He asked me to brew an extra-potent pepper up potion; enough for two weeks' time."

"And what do you make of this request?" Albus's eyes were full of questions.

"Could be anything," Severus admitted. "As whatever he's planned approaches, he could want something to keep the Death Eaters going, but my instincts tell me that he's requesting it for personal use. He wouldn't likely want to waste the extra ingredients on increased potency for some Death Eaters. I'd like to point out that my instincts are usually correct."

He could see the older wizard contemplating what this information could mean. "And what about young Harry's location?"

"This was not said to me directly, which again is cause for some concern, however Pettigrew was summoned while I was present. They're going to start a watch on the house, presumably to familiarize themselves with any scheduled departures from the wards.

"It's only a matter of time before they discover Alton's comings and goings. I doubt they'll put the pieces together that he has cancer, but they'll definitely find out someone in the house is ill. Hopefully since Alton does both magical and muggle healing, it'll slow down the discovery of it being Harry."

Albus nodded as he pulled out a broken quill from the top drawer of his desk, then handed it to Severus, "An emergency port key; the activation word is polyjuice. As you know, keep him within the wards as much as possible. Maybe if they see he's not leaving, they'll adjust their plans."

"Unlikely, but either way Harry isn't going anywhere."

Albus interpreted the intended dismissal, "One more thing Severus. Should we inform the other Order members of Harry's condition? If for no other reason, than to provide any last minute care for instances as this?"

Thinking hard about the question and implications of the request, he finally replied, "Ultimately, that should be Harry's decision however I do agree it's warranted. I'll discuss it with him."

Standing up, he walked out the door with the port key safely tucked into his robe pocket.

He apparated to an alleyway near Privet Drive after making sure to have his full glamour just in case the new Death Eater guard was in place. The sun was starting to set which gave him the benefit of hiding in the long shadows, but still having the ability to see anyone that may be trying to follow him.

Severus didn't even pause as he approached the door to #4; opening it and immediately removing the glamour the moment it closed behind him. He walked up the stairs, ignoring the rants from the uncle, and into the guest room he was using to drop off several things he brought from his quarters at Hogwarts while he had been there.

Once that was in order, he quietly walked to Harry's room with another bag of things he'd bought to hopefully help Harry through the next month. The light was off, but the sun still hadn't completely set so he could see throughout the room. Seeing the bed empty, the spy placed the bag next to the desk, eyeing a plate of peanut butter toast, trying to keep his calm about the missing boy.

He opened the door with more force than he'd expected and came face to face with Harry's large cousin.

"He's in the loo," Dudley said pointing to the lavatory. "He's been sickin' up most of the afternoon. I think he finally fell asleep on the floor." The young muggle was very pale and Severus got the impression this was altering the boy's view of his cousin, which was bound to anger Harry at some point.

Resisting the urge to say any number of insults to the boy in front of him, he instead gave a small growl and walked towards the lavatory. Not knowing where Harry was on the floor, he opened the door carefully so as not to open the door into Harry's head.

"Harry?" It was said as a whisper.

The bright light was still on, giving him a clear view of the young wizard asleep on the floor in front of the loo. He was laying in a fetal position and his face was grimaced as though he was in a painful dream. A thick quilt was draped over his shoulders and his curled legs.

The Potion Master removed two large towels from the shelf. He placed one on the floor above Harry's head and sat down upon it. The other he folded into a smaller rectangle, took Harry's glasses off, setting them on his other side, and carefully lifted Harry's head so he could place the towel beneath it. At least now he wouldn't wake up with a crick in his neck amongst the other pain he was already in.

At the last minute, he decided to turn off the bright lights, hoping there was some chance Harry could finally get some sleep - albeit unconventionally. Leaning his back against the wall, his eyes were heavy thinking through the horribly long first treatment day. He resolved to get Harry's permission to tell the Order of his condition. No matter what Harry thought now, he always did better with his friends surrounding him.