Severus landed in front of the iron gates of a large manor, fixing his mask firmly in place. Entering the lavish meeting room, which he was sure used to be the formal dining room, he immediately took his spot in the circle relieved to see he was not the last to arrive. Too many times he's had to explain why he was last after enduring the Cruciatus.

He was stealthily watching his fellow death eaters. Even though he'd assured Albus his cover was still intact, getting summoned 3 times in just over a week with no idea what was being planned alarmed him greatly. It appeared like the other members were equally as confused; most of them having left work suddenly to be by Voldemort's side.

The Dark Lord walked confidently into the room. He looked over his servants before taking his seat in the chair on the raised dais in the center of his death eaters.

"My faithful servants," the dark wizard hissed at them. "It is almost time and I must make sure we are ready. I will not have the boy escape me this time."

Severus conspicuously peered around the room yet again, only Crabe and Goyle did not nod at this statement. He did not like to be grouped with those two imbeciles. Not wanting to give away his lack of knowledge, he listened for any hidden messages the Dark Lord wasn't saying between his sentences.

"Wormtail!"

The skittish, lumpy man practically crawled up to him.

"Yes m'lord?" Wormtail kneeled before the snake-like wizard kissing the hem of his robes.

"Update, Wormtail."

Those 2 words echoed across the vast room sending a chill down Severus's spine.

"I've breached the subject and it's in place, m'lord, for T-Thursday," Wormtail was clearly nervous with his update, which did not surprise Severus one bit. That man was nervous over any little thing.

"Thank you Wormtail. I expect no issues along the way, " Voldemort said dismissing the man in front of him.

"Yaxley," the blonde death eater stepped forward and bowed, "the watch?"

"The closest we've been able to go is 3 houses down," Yaxley stated. "From there we can see the older man, his uncle, leaving at 8:15 every morning and returning at 6:30 in the evening. We've tailed him and can confirm he's not in touch with the Order and has little to do with the boy at all.

"The cousin comes and goes as he pleases, but the older woman, his Aunt, is mostly in all day. Potter hasn't left the house once; not even to the gardens. He's likely been given strict orders not to leave and will need to be coaxed out," Yaxley waited after hearing the Dark Lord hiss in anger. It was becoming obvious they wanted Harry to mistakenly leave the wards. In his opinion, this was a foolish plan and had he been taking lead on it they would not place all their eggs in this proverbial basket.

"There's more my Lord," Yaxley continued. "There have been 2 men that have visited the house on several occasions. The first is a registered healer with a private muggle practice. He works mostly out of a local hospital in Surrey and has both magical and muggle patients. He had no known ties to the Order."

"Do you know if he's treating the aunt? Or perhaps our boy is ill?" Voldemort questioned with a small smile.

"We cannot be sure, but he's visited the house at least 4 times in the last week. It seems excessive even for a muggle illness. Plus with Potter not having left the house it's highly probable he's the patient in question," Yaxley explained.

Voldemort was deep in thought over the debacle.

"And the other man?" he asked, tabling the healer thoughts.

"I was able to identify him as Charles Evans," Yaxley said. Severus held back a flinch at his other identity being revealed. They knew it was more than a possibility that he would be seen around the house. "He's a muggle relative to Potter's aunt. He appears to be staying with them for an indeterminate amount of time."

The professor almost reacted; that was death eater language for "I have no idea how long."

"Thank you Yaxley," Voldemort dismissed the Death Eater with a wave of his hand. "Severus."

The Potions Master walked up taking the space where Yaxley had just vacated.

"Yes my Lord?" he asked, kneeling in front of his master.

"Does the Order have any knowledge of Potter being ill?"

"No, my Lord," Severus lied, placing every occlumency shield he could up in his mind. "I'll question more thoroughly at my next meeting with Dumbledore."

"You do that Severus," Voldemort stated, "Any plans to move the boy?"

"None yet sir," Severus didn't need to lie this time. Given whatever plans were being discussed, there was no way they would move him away from the wards. "Dumbledore has not said how long he's to reside at his relatives' house to keep the wards at their strongest. Shall I suggest the need to relocate him prior to the weekend?"

The Dark Lord paced in front of Severus taking into consideration this request.

"That shall not be necessary Severus," came the reply from above the spy's head. "In time, the opportunity will present itself and I feel we will do better to catch the Order and the boy... Off guard."

Severus didn't like the sound of that. It could be that he was a bit paranoid, but the Dark Lord's words sounded like he didn't trust Severus and that could not end well.

"Yes, my Lord," Severus replied. He got up, back to his spot in line and listened to the preparations being made to contain Harry Potter in the dungeons directly below his feet.

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry was sitting up in his bed trying to work on his summer Charms homework, when there was a knock on his door. The sun was setting, leaving a bright orange sky through his window. Snape still hadn't returned and he assumed whoever was knocking was his newly assigned "babysitter" until he was back.

"Come in," his voice strained from the combination of lack of use and sore from the vomiting.

"Hey Harry," he heard his cousin's voice as the door cracked open.

He groaned, "What's up Dudley?"

Dudley apparently took that as an invitation into the room. He walked in, closing the door behind, with a handful of board games.

"I thought maybe you could use a distraction... Since you're stuck in here all day," Dudley placed the games on the ground and held up Monopoly.

Harry closed his book and put the notepad on the desk. He wasn't sure what Dudley's plan was for this, but he was far too tired to care.

"Fine, Monopoly it is," Harry said, sitting up further on the bed, opening the game to start setting it up.

The two boys sat in an awkward silence as they started to play. Harry had not played many board games in his life, but Monopoly he at least recognized, even if Dudley had to explain the rules to him. The concept was strange and he thought that this type of stuff - business things - should probably be taught in the wizarding world.

"Do you play any sports at school?" Dudley asked randomly.

Harry frowned, Quidditch was another thing that was questionable for him. After his ban from Umbridge, he would give just about anything to get back on the pitch, but he doubted he'd play again at least this year.

"Yeah," Harry finally answered, "I play a game called Quidditch. It's kind of like football, but played while flying on a broom." Harry hoped that would deter any further questions.

"What position do you play?" Apparently he'd been wrong.

"Erm, I'm the seeker. It's my job to find a little flying ball before the other team's seeker does," Harry cringed knowing he wasn't explaining it properly.

"Sounds cool," Dudley replied, focusing again on the board game in front of him. "Do you play other magic schools?"

Harry turned his head considering the question he was asked.

"No, we compete against each other really," it sounded odd to say it aloud. "We're separated into different groups... We call them houses... In our first year and the houses compete against each other. We did have a competition against the other schools 2 years ago, but only 1 student from each school competed and they didn't play Quidditch."

Harry really didn't want to get into the triwizard tournament, but deep down it felt good to talk to someone who wasn't part of the school about it all. If Dudley was angry or scared about any of it, he did a good job hiding because to Harry he seemed legitimately interested.

As it started to get dark and the game went on, the two cousins fell into casual and neutral conversations. They talked about everything from classes at their respective schools, Harry's friends, muggle football, and their plans after they're done with school. Harry was surprised to hear Dudley recently decided he wanted to join the British Army after Smeltings. He found it intriguing that they had picked careers so alike for having such different upbringings. This had to be the first time he's ever enjoyed Dudley's company and it hurt to think that this was a glimpse of what life could have been like had he not been a wizard. What life with a brother could have been like; he was envious of Ron all over again.

"Are you hungry?" Dudley asked midway through their game.

"Not really," Harry said looking at the clock with a shiver, "I need to take my evening meds though."

"I can grab them for you," Dudley offered. "You look a little sore."

Harry's eyes narrowed in suspicion. It was one thing for Dudley to want to get to know more about him and another to physically help him out. He was definitely feeling the pain coming back though.

"Thanks, but I have to use the loo anyway."

"D'you feel sick," Dudley said quickly, grabbing for the pail besides the bed.

Harry laughed, "No Dudley... I just have to pee. If you'd like, we can take a little break and then continue the game?"

"I'd like that," Dudley's face lit up at the olive branch Harry was offering and if Harry was honest, he felt the same way even if he was still unsure of it.

~~~~SS~~~~

"...a real dragon?!"

"Erm...hot I guess..."

"...got to be kidding me?!"

Severus could hear bits and pieces of the conversation coming from Harry's room when he finally made it back to Privet Drive. He was nervous when he saw Harry's window still illuminated from the front garden, but it seemed he was having a friendly conversation with his cousin about the first task of the triwizard tournament.

Since everything seemed alright for the time being, he continued down the hall to the guest room. Entering in, he deposited his death eater robes and mask in the bottom of the wardrobe. On the bed was the letter Harry had written to Ron, but went unsent, and now Hedwig was back out hunting. That seemed like days ago instead of only 12 hours. He'd have to send it first thing in the morning.

As usual, he'd gone to update Albus about his summons and due to the nature of his report, an emergency Order meeting was called immediately afterwards. There had been some debate over if Harry should be moved immediately or stay put. Severus couldn't deny that moving him now could foil any plans the Dark Lord had, but it could equally play right into them. In the end, Albus decided that leaving Harry in the wards was the safest place for him and they would increase their watch on the house through Thursday night.

After splashing some water on his face and getting into more comfortable clothes, he went to go check on Harry. He could still hear the boys talking loudly and he wondered what his aunt and uncle must think hearing it too; luckily they seemed to be asleep.

He heard a soft, "come in" after he knocked.

Harry was sitting up in bed already dressed in a pair of emerald green pyjamas, and Dudley was sitting in the armchair also dressed in his bedclothes. He conjured a chair for himself finally admitting that he was exhausted, to which Dudley didn't even flinch.

"Everything ok sir? You were gone a long time," Harry sounded worried and had looked at the clock - 11:34 PM - as he asked.

"I am fine," the potions professor replied, "I had to meet with the headmaster and his group which held me up longer than expected."

"Prof-" Harry was interrupted by Severus's raised hand.

"There's nothing you need to concern yourself with at the moment," he said watching the two boys closely. "How are you feeling? Did you take your evening medicine?"

"I'm fine," Harry was looking away when he'd said it causing Severus not to believe him. "Yes, I took my medicine. I just... couldn't sleep right now, so I've been telling Dudley about dragons."

Severus turned and eyed Dudley. Neither boy appeared to be upset, so he was not going to get involved at this time. Maybe things could finally settle down between them and it would be one more thing to help make Harry feel more comfortable in this house.

"Alton will be here at 9am tomorrow. If you need me-," Severus held up the sphere and placed it back on the desk.

As he was closing the door, he heard Dudley say, "I told you-" but he closed it before he could hear the end wanting to maintain Harry's trust and privacy for however long he could.

While Harry hadn't had much experience with Chemotherapy so far, only three days of it, he absolutely hated the new medication. His body was given no time to recover before the next day's started, which meant that between the pain and vomiting, he'd barely been able to move from his bed both Tuesday and Wednesday, the only times being to visit the loo.

Dudley tried to spend time with Harry whenever he could to help out, however he learned to wait until Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were gone or asleep. Tuesday evening, Uncle Vernon caught Dudley walking into Harry's room and came crashing in as if the young wizard was holding his cousin hostage. His uncle completely pushed past Dursley, ignoring his son's protests, and practically ripped Harry from his bed by his arm. Harry will never know how Dudley managed to run fast enough to get Snape before he was too seriously hurt, but he was extremely grateful for his cousin. He wasn't sure how Snape handled his uncle, but he knew a silencing spell had to be used because it was oddly silent on the other side of his bedroom door. Later that night, Harry found a set of bruises on his arm from his uncle's hand. Snape had said how important it was to report any abnormal bruising because of his lower platelet count, but Harry figured it wasn't abnormal because he knew how he'd received it.

To make the week worse, he knew something was going on with Voldemort. Not only was his scar constantly tingling in pain, but Snape had been in and out of the house all week for both Voldemort and Dumbledore. Two weeks ago, he would have been happy to have the man gone so often, but now he just wanted the little consistency his potions professor provided. Dudley never complained about stepping in to help out when Snape was gone, no matter what time of day, and Harry finally stopped looking at him suspiciously. He was happy to have the distraction because whatever was going on, Snape wasn't giving him an ounce of information.

By the time of his last chemo for the week on Thursday, his whole body was in almost constant pain. It had been an extremely long week and he didn't know how he was going to manage the next two weeks of this. Yesterday, Healer Smithe finally added morphine to his regimen directly after each chemo when the pain started to feel like he was under a constant Cruciatus curse and the tablets were no longer working. It didn't last all day, but it helped get a little relief.

"Harry?"

There was a quiet knock on the other side of the lavatory door. Harry had finally decided a bath was needed regardless of how much his body was hurting. Knowing he'd feel the best before starting the chemo, he'd gotten up early and, grudgingly, with Snape's help made it into the warm bathtub.

He was now standing over the mirror looking at himself in both shock and horror. He knew he'd likely lost some weight, but wasn't prepared for how skeletal he was now. Even with his strange eating habits he thought he had to be eating more now than any previous summer at the Dursleys, but you'd never know it. His cheeks were sunken in and pale, his eyes no longer their bright emerald green instead dull in color, but the biggest change, and one he'd been trying his hardest not to focus on, was the small patches of his messy black hair that were now clearly thinning. Yesterday, when he woke up at some point during the day, he had seen the first strands of hair left on his pillow case. Based on how it looked in the mirror, he'd guess it had started earlier this week, but he hadn't noticed and no one mentioned it to him. That last part made him angry inside. It was like everyone was walking on eggshells around him. He lifted his hand and carded it through his hair, looking down at the strands that were left between his fingers.

"Harry?" he heard Snape call again as the door cracked open.

To avoid getting hit by the door in the small lavatory, Harry sat on the closed loo staring at the strands of hair in his hands.

Snape tentatively walked over and kneeled in front of him, a look of pain on his face.

"It will grow back once this is all over," he said, placing his hand on Harry's right knee.

"I know," the teen said sadly, "doesn't make it any easier to see."

"No, unfortunately it doesn't."

A deafening silence engulfed the room. Harry could hear the beating of his heart in his ears.

"We can shave it," Snape finally broke the silence, "if you'd like. It might make the inevitable feel a bit more comfortable if you have some control over it."

"Maybe," Harry shrugged, "I'll think about it."

Snape squeezed Harry's shoulder. Harry knew this week had been difficult for the professor too. On more than one occasion, he'd woken up to the sight of his professor asleep in the chair next to his bed. Snape probably slept there more than his bed in the guest room.

"Let's get you back. This week is almost over and then you'll be able to recover the next two days."

Once he was back in bed and seriously thinking about falling back to sleep, his door was opened.

"Good morning Harry," Healer Smithe said, walking into Harry's room with the last chemo bag of the week. Harry glared over to the man. "Ready for the last one?"

"Until we start back over again on Sunday," Harry was having a difficult time staying positive lately, but he didn't want to talk to anyone about it. Surely any normal almost-16-year-old would have a difficult time coping and Harry was far from normal before all this started. It felt justifiable to be upset.

"You're doing great Harry," the healer said sympathetically as he hooked up the bag. "I know it's hard, but you're handling it very well."

I doubt he knows what this feels like.

Harry just nodded and closed his eyes again trying to pretend he was anywhere else besides here. Those thoughts lead him back to Hogwarts. He opened his eyes knowing Snape would be sitting in the armchair. Sure enough, the man was sitting there and appeared to be deep in thought as he looked out the window.

"Sir?"

Snape shook his head like he was clearing it out before meeting Harry's eyes.

"Erm," Harry nervously started, "what's going to happen when it's time to go back to school?"

Harry had been holding onto hope that he would get to start classes as normal, but this week had proven otherwise. Now he was just hoping he'd get to go back at all.

"A lot will depend on if remission is reached after this round or if another induction round is required," Snape carefully said. "Either way, with your lower immune system, you'll not be staying in the tower, at least to start. The Headmaster is looking into other arrangements for your housing in the castle."

Harry had assumed so, but hearing it out loud didn't help his mood one bit.

"What about classes?"

"You'll likely have individualized lessons for at least most of the first term," this time the professor gave a small sigh. "The details haven't been worked out yet, but there are regulations in the Hogwarts Code of Conduct for such allowances in the case of disability or illness. I'll make sure the Board of Governors follow it and you get the allowances you're entitled to."

A warm feeling spread through Harry's chest. No one had ever made sure he was being treated fairly and taken care of.

By late afternoon, Harry questioned if something serious was going on. All week, Snape had been in and out of the house mostly for either Order meetings or Death Eater summons, but today the man hadn't left Harry's side. He also seemed to be in high alert looking out the window more often than was necessary. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't left much capacity to think about what that was before he plummeted back into chemotherapy hell.

When evening rolled around Harry knew something was up, Snape wouldn't let Harry leave the room, even to go to the loo to sick up, which the young wizard always preferred to the pail. He eventually refused to let anyone into the room, including Dudley who up until this point had been Snape's unofficial assistant. Snape left only to get a smoothie for Harry's dinner and a bag of his medications and then said neither of them were leaving the room for the remainder of the night. Harry tried not to think about what would happen if he needed to pee.

~~~~SS~~~~

Severus was relieved when Harry eventually fell asleep. It was difficult for the teen to get any kind of consistent rest, so it was a relief whenever he could sleep. When the sun set, he strategically left the lights out to prevent any potential watch guards from easily seeing inside. This left the only light in the room coming from the street lights through the window. The spy was planning to stay up as much as possible throughout the night so he could be ready should anything arise. Tonight was the night the Dark Lord had discussed with them all week and he wasn't willing to risk a surprise attack while he was asleep.

When Harry woke up again the clock read 12:24 AM, which was far less sleep than Severus would have hoped for him. He could hear the painful breaths coming from Harry's bed; they still had a long night ahead of them.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on? And don't say nothing, I can clearly see there's something wrong," Harry accused with less patience than normal.

"It's nothing you need to be concerned with right now," Severus replied knowing full well he was lying. "How are you feeling?"

Harry was silent for so long, Severus thought maybe he had fallen back asleep. Finally he saw the teen reach for the lamp on the desk to get some light. Severus quickly grabbed him by the hand.

"Don't... turn on the light," Snape warned in a low voice.

"Fine. I'm guessing you can't tell me why either, but I'm supposed to believe nothing is going on."

"You didn't answer me," the professor tried again ignoring Harry's accusation, "how are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling tired of people asking me that," Harry mumbled angrily, "I'm feeling tired of being locked in my room, and I'm feeling tired of being sick for days on end."

There it is. Severus thought to himself.

As if on cue, he heard some rustling and then Harry vomiting, luckily into the pail. He sat down on the bed, his insides knotted up, and pressed his hand against Harry's lower back. How much more could this young man endure? With any luck, he could at least prevent any attempts to lure the Boy-Who-Lived away from the protective wards tonight.

When the dry heaves were long gone, they both sat up against the pillows, side by side yet again. Harry slowly leaned over to rest against Severus's left side in complete exhaustion, both physically and mentally. After a second's hesitation, Severus lifted his arm and draped it across the back of Harry's shoulders. If anyone who didn't know the two of them walked in, it would look as if this was completely natural. Harry's shaky breath started to even out.

"Can I ask you a question professor?" He sounded completely defeated.

"Of course," Severus had assumed the young wizard was sleeping otherwise he wouldn't be sitting in this position.

"Why?" Harry's voice gave away the pleading behind the question.

The Potions Master thought hard, but wasn't following where Gryffindor was going with the question, "I don't understand."

"You've been different," Harry closed his eyes. "There have been a bunch of little things I've noticed. Even back at school, you acted differently."

Severus could blame it on lack of sleep, though he's used to running off little sleep this was crossing a line even for him; he could blame it on the pleading voice of the young man who has lived through more than any grown adult ever should; he could even claim he wanted to just stop the need to keep up the exhausting charade. In the end though, he knew it was none of that... in the end he wanted to tell Harry the truth to try to ease his own suffering; he wanted his child back and he couldn't keep it hidden any longer.

"That's because I am different," he finally said after what felt like an eternity.

Harry sat up suddenly, likely thoughts of polyjuice and Confundus Charms going through his head.

"Who are you?" The panic was thick in Harry's voice.

In one swift movement, the fastest he'd moved in a week, Harry grabbed his holly wand off the desk and turned on the lamp. Severus didn't need Legilimency to see the memory flash in teen's mind; when the professor first showed up in the bathroom during the nosebleed incident, did Harry verify his identity?

Severus didn't pull his wand to try and ease Harry's despair. He thought back through this reality's memories to find something only the two of them would know. It wasn't nearly as easy as it would have been back in his old reality.

"Your remedial potions lessons were a cover up for occlumency training," he finally settled on.

Harry was thinking back if anyone else would have known about their lessons. Hermione and Ron knew, which brought about another panic attack. What if something happened to them?

Against his better judgement, Harry closed his eyes and asked, "What happened at the last lesson?"

Severus took a deep breath to hold back anger, no idea where the anger was stemming from inside him. Yes, that was one of his worst memories, but it was also one he'd discussed at length with his Harry.

"You looked into my pensieve. The scene you saw was from my 5th year, after my defense O.W.L. when your father and his friends hexed me by the lake," he slowed down recognizing he was speaking almost too fast to sound in control of the situation. "It was the day I called your mother... I called Lily a... mudblood. I threw a jar of cockroaches at you afterwards."

Harry opened his eyes, "What is going on then?"

"I don't know how to explain it to you and even if I did, you likely wouldn't believe it," Severus answered honestly.

"Try me," the boy in front of him challenged, "I've seen a lot of strange things happen."

Severus contemplated what and how much to tell. He didn't want to scare Harry away from whatever little trust they've managed to build up to this point.

"I'm waiting," Harry impatiently said holding his wand back up.

"Last month I woke up with memories of events that no longer happened," Severus made sure to maintain eye contact so Harry would not think he was lying. "I woke up as a different version of myself, leading a very different life than when I went to sleep the night prior."

Harry creased his eyebrows in confusion. Things like what was being described don't exist; people don't just wake up in a new life.

"How did that happen?"

"In this other life something devastating occurred," he carefully explained, "and the Albus Dumbledore there gave me the chance to fix it. I shouldn't have done it, but in a moment of weakness I took the opportunity he presented and woke up here."

That was the simplest way to explain the convoluted event.

"That's not possible," Harry was staring almost through him.

Taking out his wand, Severus created a small ball of light that he set to float between them.

"Harry, we need to turn off the lights," he explained peering over to the window. "We can absolutely continue this conversation, but not like this."

Harry nodded, reached over to the lamp and aggressively clicked off the light.

"So, I'm just supposed to believe that you're from some other time or something?"

"I don't think physically," Severus thought back to the post-cruciatus shaking when he first woke up in this reality. No, physically he was the same here. "It's more like I lived a previous life, woke up in this one, but have memories from both."

"That sounds confusing," Harry said sarcastically, but willing to play along for the time being. "Did it work? Did whatever you wanted to change actually change?"

This time, Severus couldn't maintain eye contact and peered out the window.

"Technically yes," he answered; Harry had chosen the different treatment option. "How it will all play out, I'm yet to know."

"Assuming I believe you, which is a stretch, did you ever think that maybe things are just fate and you shouldn't mess with them?"

"Like using a time turner to save-" Severus couldn't shut his mouth fast enough; he wasn't supposed to know that event. Harry would just assume he didn't want to talk about his Godfather after their last conversation, but it was too close for comfort.

"Finally figured that one out did you? That was different," Harry sneered.

"It was very much the same thing."

Professor and student sat in silence with the small ball of light flickering between them. Neither of them knew where to go from here.

"Was Voldemort still there? In your other life? I'd love pointers on how to finally kill off the bastard."

"Language," Severus reprimanded, "and no the Dark Lord hadn't yet returned."

He could see a look of pain pass through the Gryffindor's eyes; imagining a life without the threat of the darkest wizard hanging over him.

"So you weren't a spy there?"

Severus knew the child was curious, which meant he believed some part of what the professor was saying, but he was swimming too close to a line he shouldn't cross.

"I was," he cautiously explained. "Everything from the first war happened as it did here, the Dark Lord just hadn't been able to get his body back."

"Then my name wasn't called out of the Goblet of Fire?"

Severus gave a small chuckle, "Oh no, it definitely was pulled from that damn goblet, but you didn't compete after the first task."

Harry's eyes almost bulged right out of his head. "How did I get out of that?!"

"A well sought after loophole." Severus was quite proud of himself for that one, if only he'd thought about it early enough so Harry hadn't needed to fight the dragon.

"Well, that all sounds like an upgrade to me, can't imagine why you'd want to come here," it came out a little to whiney, but he didn't care.

"First, I didn't get to choose where I ended up," Severus felt ridiculous explaining it all, "second, I lost something that was more important than the Dark Lord returning."

Harry couldn't miss the grief that filled the response. What would be worth having Voldemort back? His friends, yes. His parents, definitely. But his professor didn't have friends and he didn't want to think of the man's parents, so what did he have to lose?

"So, you think that gave you the right to screw over my life to fix yours?"

How could Severus argue against that? From this Harry's point of view, that's exactly what it looked like. The clock read 2:43 AM, still a while until dawn; when he could assume that whatever lure Voldemort was planning hadn't happened as expected.

"So what did you lose?" He heard a small, weak voice ask; Harry's steam having settled greatly.

"Not what... whom."

That was something Harry was very familiar with, he'd lost a lot of people in his young life. So instead of jumping in, he sat back and quietly waited for his professor to continue.

"My son," Severus finally said almost in a trance, "from the same cancer you have."

~~~~HP~~~~

Harry sat in silence. A soft rain had started and he listened to the hypnotic drizzle hitting the roof above his head. He remembered the conversation they'd had about the boy with cancer Snape had known. He was from this other life. He'd tried the magical treatment. He died.

What are the odds?

Cancer is rare in the wizarding world; Healer Smithe explained it to him at that first appointment. Harry was confused, something was missing in this story. Something was definitely off about it, but he couldn't think straight right now.

"It's the boy you were talking about last week," he didn't expect an answer, but Snape nodded anyway. "But where is he now? In this life?"

He didn't need the light back on to see the cold stare from Snape's obsidian eyes. The man was deeply bothered by that question. If he was supposed to change something, then where was this boy? Maybe in this life, the boy just never existed. He'd be bloody angry if he'd risked changing realities only to find out what you wanted to fix was gone. In the back of his mind he was putting together connections without consciously realizing it.

"How old was he?" He decided to change tactics; his need for information greater than his self-preservation. Nothing new there.

"Your age when he was diagnosed and he died less than a year later. He was just shy of 17," Snape said far away in a memory and Harry felt like an intruder listening to the man, "We were going to spend the summer at the beach because he absolutely loved the sea more than anywhere else. It was going to be a celebration of both his cancer remission and coming of age. I even had a new pocket watch picked out for him for his birthday.

"I would have given anything to switch places with him... I wish I would have known how quickly those 4 years would go by, how much could happen in that short time."

"Um, sir? Why only 4 years?" Now Harry was thoroughly confused.

Snape looked at Harry like he hadn't expected him to be sitting there, "I guess it was technically 5 years since he lived with me for almost a year before everything was official."

There was a pregnant pause and noticing Harry's still confused look Snape added, "He was adopted... on the 5th of March, 1993... you were twelve."