Potions theory just wasn't captivating enough to keep Harry's attention that afternoon, so it didn't take the teen long to fall asleep. He dreamed the strangest dream of the Pivot Drive attack; of Snape threatening him detention of all things during the whole ordeal. When he awoke, it was to a feeling he'd long lost and was happy to experience again - hunger. Sitting up, he reached for his glasses finding them on the table beside him. Snape must have removed them when he came back from meeting with Dumbledore. Once his glasses were on his face, he noticed a soft green and silver blanket was covering him and he couldn't contain the small smile at the warm thought of his professor doing such a thing as covering him with a blanket.

The clock on the fireplace mantle read half past four and the enchanted window brought a soft glow of the pending sunset, so grabbing his crutches, Harry headed towards the kitchen. He could hear pots and pans moving around when he came through the doorway.

"You need to learn Occlumency," were the first words Snape said without even turning away from the small stove.

"Why are you cooking? I always took you as having a house elf to do that kind of stuff or are there no house elves around in the summer?" Everyone else seemed fine to ignore his questions, so he didn't feel bad at all about ignoring Snape's statement.

"As a matter of fact, no the house elves are not working per se. During the summer months they focus on things that cannot be done when there are hundreds of teenagers around," he turned to face Harry, arms crossed over his chest. Harry was getting too used to seeing the professor without the billowing teachers robes and he wasn't nearly as intimidated by the man anymore. "If need be, they are here, but I prefer not to have them in my quarters and to handle my own cooking. Plus, I generally don't spend the summers at the castle; at least not exclusively."

That made sense, in fact Harry should have assumed the professors had somewhere besides Hogwarts to call home. He wondered what Snape's house was like. The man's quarters in the castle were nothing like he expected, but he had a hard time imagining his house was anything but dark and dreary.

Snape gestured for him to take a seat at the four-person table in the small kitchen area. A plate of dinner consisting of roasted turkey with gravy, potatoes, and peas, was placed in front of him. Snape sat down at the settings across from the young wizard.

"As I was saying," the professor lectured, "you need to finish learning occlumency."

"Why now?" Harry picked up his fork and poked at the food. It smelled delicious, but he was wary to eat it.

"It is not poisoned. I thought we've been through this already."

"It's just weird," Harry took a tentative bite.

"Elaborate please," Snape seemed way too comfortable to Harry.

"Well, I've never been in a professor's quarters before," Harry started explaining, "and then, I don't know... Having you cook for me in your kitchen just seems... Odd."

"Unless you plan on starving yourself this summer," Snape said dramatically, "get used to it."

They let an awkward silence fall over the table while they both ate their dinner.

"Care to explain why you don't wish to discuss occlumency. Besides the obvious?"

Harry took a sip of his pumpkin juice so he could delay his answer as much as possible. "Well, I just don't see the point. Voldemort wasn't successful last year when he possessed me, or whatever that was, and frankly from what I've seen, you're not a spy anymore so there's not much he can gain from me."

"Have you thought that maybe learning about your current... ailment would be less than ideal for the side of the light?" Harry could hear the doubt in the former spy's voice as he considered what would happen if Voldemort found out. "Besides, there is another, more pressing reason why you need to learn."

"What's that?"

Snape raised one eyebrow, "I can't provide that information at this time, but once term resumes, be prepared to start again."

Harry frowned, "Are you sure that's wise sir? I mean, last time-" Harry trailed off, having a hard time looking his professor in the eyes.

"As I said previously, you put as much effort into learning as I did in teaching and... I apologise for my part in that."

Harry almost audibly gasped. An apology from Severus Snape! Ron would never believe this... But then, this isn't the same Snape is it? This Snape has memories from a completely different life, so did that even count? Harry decided to take the opportunity to continue asking about his other life.

"Did I know occlumency where you're from?" He had to ask the burning question in his mind. Had Sirius...?

"Yes," Snape answered quietly. "I taught it to him, or rather you, in fourth year."

"So, then the Department of Mysteries... And Sirius?" Harry couldn't ask it out loud and was relieved when Snape understood.

The Potions Master looked uncomfortable, "It didn't happen. Even if the Dark Lord had been around to invade your mind as he did this past year, you already knew occlumency by then. The summer before your fourth year, you started to see visions of a graveyard. Once you finally explained to me what was happening, we were able to stop them using occlumency."

Harry shifted in his seat showing how uncomfortable he was with this discussion. This confirmed it was his fault Sirius died. Had he been able to learn from Snape last year, he never would have gotten the false vision.

"Remember Harry, by that point you'd been in my care for over 2 years and trusted me much more than my counterpart here. While I don't expect that level of trust now, I do hope we can at least gain some sort of working trust so you can protect your mind from a very real threat in this world."

Harry bit his lower lip, that was a lot to ask. Could he really trust Snape? If he was honest with himself, it didn't seem as much of a stretch now than it would have last year or even last month. He wanted to trust the man, but he didn't know if he could go through with it.

"So, then what happened with Sirius?"

"Are you looking for something specific?" Snape asked and when Harry shook his head he continued,

"Ironically, he was in this very room the day I left there and woke up here. Everything from your 3rd year happened as it did in this reality, even that damn time turner from the Headmaster," Severus never understood why Albus would trust that to a set of 13 year olds and the Potions Master threatened his resignation with Harry's unenrollment over that event, "but you managed to convince me to question his conviction and we were able to prove his innocence. Unfortunately, we never did find Pettigrew.

"Your Godfather and I eventually came to a truce with each other. At first, he had a hard time adjusting to the adoption, given our history and his status as your Godfather, but he learned to respect it; more for your benefit than mine."

Harry closed his eyes trying not to think how unfair it was that in this world he was alive, but not Sirius and in that one Sirius lived while Harry had died. It's like they were destined not to coexist together. He found himself wishing he could wake up tomorrow in that other world, before the diagnosis. Maybe then he could make different choices than he did and live a life surrounded by people who cared for him with no Voldemort instead of his lonely world where he's destined to kill or be killed.

"Don't," Snape said threateningly.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't go down the what if's," the professor explained. "Life here happened as it did and the best we can do is keep moving forward. You have enough to focus on ahead of you."

"Like saving the world from Voldemort?" Harry knew it sounded petty, but he didn't care one bit.

"I think you should start with trying to see some worth in yourself, maybe try to forgive yourself, and be confident in who you are as a person and a wizard. The rest will fall into place."

While all that sounded fine and good, Harry didn't exactly know what it meant or how to accomplish it.

"How did I get out of the Triwizard Tournament? You mentioned a loophole before?" Harry had deemed that as the turning point for Voldemort's return here which did not occur in the other world, so knowing why and how he managed to stop it felt important.

Snape turned away from Harry momentarily before speaking, "Well, as your parent I tried to refuse to give consent. I went as far as the Wizengamot, but was told parental consent was not needed and therefore not a valid reason to break the contract. At that point, there was only a little over a week before the first task, so I focused on training you the best I could. I don't think I'd ever been so scared in my life; watching you with that dragon.

"Once that was behind us, I continued to spend as much time as I could searching for a way to get you out of it. Finally discovering that the contract - the one that did not require my consent - was written for Harry James Potter. When you were officially adopted, we never considered changing your name; I didn't want you to think I was in anyway replacing James. However, there was no contract requiring a Harry James Potter-Snape to compete. Since you legally had a right to take my surname, once we filed the paperwork, the contract was broken automatically."

"So... Where you come from, I went by Harry Snape?" That sounded very wrong and Harry could feel his heart rate increasing.

"Potter-Snape. And you didn't need to. I told you I didn't expect you to use it, but once it was official you just did. I never asked why," the professor didn't say he'd overheard Harry's reason when he was discussing it with his friends and it was one of the few memories he most cherished.

So, Snape had been the only reason he didn't get to the third task and Voldemort's resurrection. To Harry, that was a hard truth to swallow.

"Ok professor," he finally conceded, "I'll try harder to learn Occlumency this time. But I still think you should at least tell me why it's so important that I learn it."

Snape gave a frustrated sigh, "In time I will, but for now take it as your first test of trust in me."

Nothing in that statement made Harry feel comfortable.

~~~~A/U SS~~~~

As usual, Severus and Harry had a very casual Christmas at Spinner's End this year with a relaxing morning just the two of them, followed by dinner at Grimmauld Place with Sirius, Remus, and Remus's new girlfriend Nymphadora Tonks, who refused to go by her first name and only answered to Tonks. They had a much more vibrant New Year's celebration at the Burrow with more people in attendance than Severus was comfortable to be around, but it made his 14-year old son happy so he endured it. The kids spent most of the night playing a pick up game of Quidditch before they all rang in the New Year with some questionably legal fireworks courtesy of Fred and George.

They had just resumed classes after the Christmas holidays and Severus was feeling infinitely better now that he'd managed to get Harry out of that blasted Triwizard Tournament. He mentally kicked himself for not having thought of it before the first task, but it was done and now behind them.

"Oh Severus," Minerva said on the first morning before classes started back, "I see there was an official change to my house roster for a Mr. Harry Potter-Snape."

"Don't get too sentimental," Severus said realistically, "it was a means to an end."

Minerva smiled, "I guess we shall have to wait and see what the young man himself decides. I have a feeling you'll be pleasantly surprised."

The potions professor simply shook his head. No matter what anyone else thought, had Harry actually wanted to use his last name they would have changed it much sooner than this.

Severus didn't make it a habit of listening in on his son's conversations, but in Potions class that day, Ron and Harry were seated in the front row and their topic of conversation caught his attention immediately -

"Are you really going to start using Potter-Snape?" He heard Ron ask Harry once they started their work for the day, "I mean, it was all just on paper to get out of the tournament right? It's not like you're required to use it now."

Harry put down the stirring rod and turned to Ron, "I know, but technically it's magically binding, so all of my school documents automatically updated. It would be a constant battle to keep correcting professors, so I think I'm sticking with it."

Severus watched discreetly as Harry went back to stirring the potion; proud of him for keeping a close count on the clockwise and anticlockwise steps. Once the Gryffindor finished with the required three in each direction he looked back at his friend and added, "Not only that, why can't I have the same last name as my dad... Everyone else does."

Severus quickly took interest in the papers on his desk, while taking a large cleansing breath. Harry had never referred to him as "dad" before, at least not in his presence. Two things happened that day - from then on, Harry went by "Harry Potter-Snape" and he started calling Severus "dad". Severus didn't care what anyone else would say about him, but at that moment couldn't keep the smile off his face.

~~~~SS~~~~

Deep down Severus knew that conversation wasn't going to go well. Knowing Sirius hadn't been killed was difficult for Harry to hear and he definitely did not want to think of himself as a Snape even if it wasn't in this lifetime. As expected, the Gryffindor promptly got up from the table and took his plate to sink before leaving the kitchen. Severus was surprised that the bedroom door wasn't slammed any harder than normal.

He had just finished cleaning the dinner dishes and left over food when he heard banging from the hallway. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he walked to go deal with the sullen teenager. For the briefest moment he almost thought this could have been any normal day in his old world.

"Harry?"

Getting closer to his bedroom door, he heard the banging again but coming from the adjoining lavatory. Starting to worry, he tried to open the lavatory door carefully but was met with resistance on the other side.

"Harry," he called out, "are you ok?"

Pressing his ear to the door, he heard sniffling and a muffled "yeah". Not believing for a second that he was indeed ok, Severus changed tactics and walked to the bedroom door. He slowly cracked it open wanting to provide whatever privacy he could for Harry, but not at the expense of his safety.

Once in the room, he walked to the open lavatory door. Leaning against the doorframe he looked down at the small teen. Harry was slumped against the door leading to the hall, his head resting on his arms on his one propped up knee. Between them was a stool in front of the sink with the muggle hair clippers sitting next to the sink. It wasn't a stretch to figure out what had occurred.

"I can't do it," Harry said, finally looking up to meet Severus's eyes.

"You can always wait for... nature to take its course," Severus said calmly, "or if you'd like, I can do it for you."

Harry just blinked at him and Severus started to question to himself if he'd suggested that out loud or not.

"Would you mind?" The small voice asked, his eyes pleading for help.

"I would not have offered if I did," he held out his hand to help Harry off the floor, "I don't know how you even managed to end up down there."

Harry hobbled up and sat down on the stool facing the mirror. He ran his hand through his thinning hair one more time.

"Other way," Severus said, lowering his eyebrows. "This way you don't have to watch, that is unless you want to."

Harry rotated on the chair, "Oh, that's a good idea. I don't want to see it."

Severus grabbed a towel from the shelf and draped it over Harry's bony shoulders. Turning on the clippers, he waited for Harry to get used to the sound in case he changed his mind. Harry gave a small nod and Severus started to run the clippers as carefully as he could from the front of his head to the back. Slowly, black locks of hair started to fall and collect on the towel and tumbled onto the floor.

Once it was completed, Severus ran his hand over Harry's smooth head.

"Looks good," he said trying to act like nothing had changed.

"I don't think good is what I'm going for," Harry said, intending to be sarcastic but it came out sad. He was about to turn around, when Severus stopped him.

"Wait a minute," he walked out of the lavatory into the bedroom. He'd placed some beanies in there the other day in preparation for when this moment arrived. Grabbing one, in green to match Harry's eyes, he also summoned a blank piece of parchment then made his way back to the lavatory. Harry was still sitting with his back to the mirror, his eyes currently closed.

"Here," he said softly, handing Harry the beanie. "You should look before putting that on."

Instead of turning around, Harry opened his eyes, took the beanie and looked down at the hair all around the floor.

Snape gestured to the hair and held out the parchment, "Do you mind?" he asked.

After Harry's confused look, he bent down and picked up a lock of hair and placed it on the parchment. He waved his wand, placing a sticking charm on the lock of hair, then folded it and handed it to Harry to keep.

The young wizard took the parchment and simply said, "Thank you," before turning around to look in the mirror.

Severus placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, "It will grow back once all this is over."

~~~~HP~~~~

I'm a coward.

Even though he really had no reason to be, Harry was in a foul mood after the haircut. It didn't help that he was finally able to bathe, but with the bloody cast on his leg it was awkward and he grudgingly needed Snape's help yet again. Even though the professor placed a waterproofing charm on the cast itself, Harry was still hesitant to test it out submerged in the water which made for an uncomfortable experience all around.

Tomorrow was supposed to be considered a "rest day", but now that he knew what to expect with the chemo coming up, he really wanted to use this newfound energy to see Ron. He's always had his friends by his side and even though at the end of term he was ready for some space, being cooped up with his potions professor had gotten to him. The only problem was he had to ask Snape to arrange a visit and that's exactly why he was calling himself a coward.

He probably should have been in bed at least an hour ago, but he was anything but tired so he was laying across the sofa in Snape's sitting room attempting to read through his potions textbook yet again. What he was actually doing was thinking of all the ways Snape would humiliate him for asking to visit with Ron; none of which ended well for the Gryffindor.

"Are you planning on teaching next term?" Snape's monotone voice broke through his thoughts.

"What are you talking about?"

Snape gestured to the textbook, "The only reason I can imagine you would be reading the same page for almost a half hour is if you planned on teaching the lesson."

Harry felt his face flush. "Oh, erm. I wasn't really reading it."

"Obviously," the professor paused, "what is on your mind?"

"It's nothing." The young wizard dramatically flipped the page in the textbook as if to make a point.

Snape put down the book he was reading, Powerful Potions of Ancient Asia, on the coffee table. He crossed his right foot over his left knee and stared questioningly at his young charge.

"Is it about your O.W.L. marks?"

Harry frowned and replied full of sarcasm, "Actually, I kind've forgotten about those. Thanks for the reminder though, another disappointment to look forward to this summer."

He knew that wasn't exactly fair to throw back, but he really hadn't been thinking about them and it wasn't like the scores mattered that much anyway. Without being able to cast spells, he was bound to fall behind. Did O.W.L. marks expire if you don't take the N.E.W.T. course right away? He made a mental note to ask Hermione; it was something she would know.

"Sorry sir," Harry finally said. "It's just... I was thinking... Never mind."

See, you're a total coward.

Deciding just to go to bed and forget the awful day, he reached for his crutches meeting the professor's eyes in the process. The man appeared upset, but at what Harry couldn't even start to guess.

"Fine," Harry conceded angrily, "I was hoping to see Ron now that I'm at the castle for the summer, but clearly that's a bad idea."

"And why is that?"

Harry swept his arms around the sitting room as if that explained it all. To further prove his point, he added, "I'm living in the dungeons for one. I could just imagine how that conversation would go."

"Are you finished?" Snape asked a moment later. For some reason, that infuriated Harry even more.

"Yes... No! I don't know!" He yelled, "Why does it matter?"

"First," Snape leaned forward steepling his hands together, "I don't care where we stood in the past, but you will respect me in these quarters.

"Second, before you work yourself into a deeper anxiety attack, Molly Weasley will be here tomorrow anyways. If you'd like the youngest Mr. Weasley to visit, you needn't go further than simply asking."

Harry felt like an idiot. How was he supposed to know Mrs. Weasley was going to be here?

"Why is Mrs. Weasley going to be here?"

The Potions Master narrowed his eyes clearly thinking before replying, "I'm needed by the headmaster tomorrow."

"So she's babysitting me." It wasn't a question and he was highly offended at the thought of a babysitter.

"Don't think too hard about it," Snape brushed off the offended tone, "she is going to be in the castle anyway and I simply asked if she could check-in on you. Would you like me to request the youngest Mr. Weasley to accompany her?"

As much as he hated to admit it, spending time with Ron was more important than his pride.

"Yes sir," he mumbled, "that would be great if you could." There... he swallowed his pride, "I take it there's no chance of me meeting him outside on the grounds is there?"

"None at all," Snape confirmed picking his book back up, "you're still immunocompromised, which means you have to stay in these quarters. Now go to bed."

Harry gave a hard sigh, but picked his crutches up and left for his bedroom.

"It's totally barmy," Ron exclaimed once they were alone in Harry's bedroom in Snape's quarters the next day.

Harry was sitting across the bed actually dressed in clothes that couldn't be classified as pyjamas; a nice quality plain blue t-shirt and a pair of trousers that actually fit. There was a whole set of new clothes like these in the wardrobe and he suspected Snape had gotten them which was more than a little embarrassing.

Mrs. Weasley was making them all lunch, to which Snape not so nicely declined to stay. Even though Mrs. Weasley had seen Harry back at Pivot Drive, he was extremely self-conscious now that his hair was gone. Add to that, the idea of seeing Ron for the first time and he almost cancelled the whole thing. Luckily, Ron was more distracted by Snape's quarters than Harry's lack of hair and cast.

"Your room is nice though," his friend continued, "I'm sure Dumbledore made sure he didn't put you in a cupboard or something like that."

"I wouldn't go that far," Harry commented quietly letting Ron interpret that as he wanted. After all, he didn't know that Dumbledore had left him to literally live in a cupboard for 10 years. "How's your summer been?"

"Oh, it's been awesome," Ron said, not picking up on the subtle change of subject, "Fred and George have brought home all these new things to test. It's driving mum mad, I wouldn't be surprised if she starts searching them before they come over to the house from now on."

Harry laughed, a real full laugh which felt good compared to the gloomy mood he'd been in recently. No matter what they'd been through in the past, he could always count on Ron to help lighten things up.

"I wish you could see the new shop," Ron exclaimed. "It's bloody brilliant! How long do you think you'll be stuck down here?"

Harry shrugged, "Not sure to be honest; doubt I'll be able to leave as long as this-" he pointed to his cast, "- is still on. And that's at least until right before term starts."

"Rotten luck Mate, I'll be sure to bring you something from their shop next time. If you get caught though, you're on your own with Snape," Ron gave Harry a terrified look. "Then once you're feeling better you, me, and 'Mione will go check it out."

Ron went on to continue telling him all about the twins' shop and what he's already decided to sneak into the school next term. He didn't seem to care that there was no way Hermione wouldn't find out about it especially since she was staying the rest of the summer at the Burrow starting next week.

"I'm sorry about your relatives. I know you didn't like them much, for good reason," Ron finally said after they'd gotten through a handful of other topics.

Harry looked down into his lap. He hadn't talked about the attack with anyone yet. "Thanks Ron. I don't really know what I feel about it yet. I guess it's still sinking in... If nothing else, I feel bad for Dudley."

Ron looked very uncomfortable with the conversation, "Your cousin, right? Why would you feel bad for him?"

Harry frowned. Ron grew up in a big family, with both his parents alive, he would never understand what it felt like not to have them there for him.

"Well," Harry started, "besides the fact that I know what it's like not to have parents and I wouldn't wish it on anyone, he knew his parents... He knows what he lost. Yes, I miss my parents all the time, but it's still different because I don't really remember them. Not only that, Dudley changed a lot this past year."

"Wait... So you're not saying you guys actually got along?!"

"Something like that," Harry knew he would never get Ron to understand. Hermione might, but Ron couldn't. "I have to write to him at some point."

Ron just gave a small nod, clearly not sure what else to say about the topic.

"Do you know anything that's going on with Order?" Ron finally asked to fill the silence.

"No, nothing at all," Harry honestly answered, "you?"

"No," the redhead's face fell, "something's going on though, I can just tell it's something big too. Bill and Charlie have even been home, which is just strange. Y'know, since you're living with Snape..."

He trailed off as Mrs. Weasley approached the doorway.

"Ronald, you will not get involved in things that are none of your business," she lectured directly to Ron. Then turning towards Harry she said, "Lunch is ready dear. Do you need any help getting to the kitchen?"

"I'm alright Mrs. Weasley. Thank you though," he said, "for making lunch too."

"You're very welcome dear. Don't take too long," she said to Ron before leaving.

"I swear she likes you better than any of us," Ron complained.

Harry laughed again, "Well, in your defense, she doesn't actually live with me. I'm sure she'd get tired of me after a while too."

"I don't think so Mate," Ron said grabbing Harry's crutches and handing them to him. "You know, Dad's going to want to learn all about these; just warning you now."

Lunch was comfortable, even though they were sitting in Snape's kitchen, a fact that Ron had a hard time grasping. Mrs. Weasley made plates of ham sandwiches, watermelon and strawberries, crisps, and pumpkin juice. Harry was happy to still have his appetite from yesterday and ate a full lunch.

"So Harry," Mrs. Weasley asked about halfway through lunch, "have you received your O.W.L. results yet?"

Harry took a sip of pumpkin juice before answering, "No, not yet. Honestly, I'm not sure they'll know to send them here."

"Don't you worry about that, they'll get them to you," Mrs. Weasley patted his forearm as she said it.

"I'm sure 'Mione is freaking out over getting hers," Ron laughed.

The rest of the lunch was spent discussing only neutral topics like the twins' joke shop with all the new products they've been working on (Harry made a mental note not to eat anything he received from them without questioning it first), plans after Hogwarts (Auror for both of them), Hermione's plans to stay at the Burrow starting the following week (which made Harry more than a little jealous), the Chudley Cannons season, and what Harry had learned living the 24 hours in Snape's quarters (since he wasn't suicidal, he didn't say a single thing). What they didn't talk about hung over the conversation like a thick fog; the attack at Privet Drive (Harry still didn't know if anyone from the Order had been hurt or killed), Harry's cancer (though he could clearly see they had loads of questions), Voldemort, and the upcoming school year.

After lunch, Harry and Ron spent the afternoon playing wizard's chess in the sitting room until Snape returned around dinnertime. Mrs. Weasley wouldn't take no for an answer when Snape said she didn't need to prepare dinner, so they all ended up eating together at the kitchen table.

As they were finishing dinner, Snape surprised them all by asking, "Mr. Weasley, I hear you have an excellent game of chess, care to test that?"

Harry almost spit out his pumpkin juice laughing as the blood completely drained from Ron's face.

"Uh, me sir?" Ron managed to reply.

"I sure hope you didn't think I would call your mother MR. Weasley," the fact that Snape seemed amused only caused Ron to become more terrified.

Standing up, Snape waved them all into the sitting room, "Come in the sitting room, I have a very nice set handed down through my family."

Still recovering from the Privet Drive attack, Harry was exhausted but was having such a good day that he didn't want to miss this by going to bed. Chemo days would be coming back to haunt him and he wanted to soak in all he could before that started.

Ron was too nervous to say "no" once Snape set up the chess set and he gave Harry a face as if to say this might be his last night alive. Harry sat with Mrs. Weasley on the sofa, who was reading a new wizarding cooking book, while Ron proceeded to start the game with several moves even Harry knew were bad. Once he became comfortable sitting across from his most hated professor, casually playing a game of chess, he was too far gone to recover.

"Next time," Ron said with confidence as Snape put the pieces back, "I'm going to start more focused; I think I could have taken you if it weren't for the start of the game."

"Challenge accepted," Snape smirked as he replied.

"Thank you for the wonderful evening Severus," Mrs. Weasley said as she and Ron were preparing to floo back to the Burrow. "I'll see you back here on Saturday."

Harry lowered his eyebrows considering what he'd just heard but he was too tired to put much thought in that tonight since it was already half past ten o'clock. To Harry, it was a perfect day and exactly what he needed to refresh before the chemo started again; technically tomorrow with the Intrathecal.

He left to brush his teeth and then dressed in a set of comfortable red pyjamas. Everything took him longer than normal with the cast and crutches, but when he finally made it back to his room, Snape was sitting on the chair at his desk.

"I need to ask you about something I saw the other day in the hospital wing," the professor asked the moment Harry entered the bedroom.

Sitting down on the bed he asked, "Ok, what's wrong?"

Snape looked exceedingly uncomfortable which actually calmed Harry's nerves more than he expected. The older wizard spoke in a very calculated manner, "I noticed some... marks, on the top of your hand."

Harry immediately covered his right hand with his left as if that would stop this entire conversation. His breathing shallowed thinking about the detentions with Umbridge.

"Where did they come from?" Snape asked confidently.

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry mumbled. "It's really not a big deal."

"I'll be the judge of if it's - as you say - a big deal or not."

This was not how he wanted to end such a great day. Why did Snape care where the words came from?

"Did you do it to yourself?" He heard the professor ask.

"What?" Harry asked quickly. First Dudley, now Snape. "No! Why would you think I did this?!"

Snape steepled his finger clearly trying to keep control of the conversation, "I know last year there was a lot of talk throughout the school about your claims with the Dark Lord's return-"

"Yeah, there was! Even the professors didn't believe me!" Harry yelled then mumbled a moment later, "or at least one didn't."

"Professors?" Snape raised one eyebrow in question. "Are you saying a professor did that?"

Harry didn't answer, but he knew he didn't have to. Snape was smart enough to figure it out on his own. He tightened his lips into a scowl as if to show he wasn't going to complain.

As realization hit the professor's eyes, he simply said, "Umbridge I take it?"

He didn't want to answer, but staring into the professor's eyes filled with rage that for once wasn't directed at him, but instead for him, he finally nodded. "In detention, she had this quill," he added, "and whenever I did lines, it would scratch what I was writing into my hand as the words appeared on the paper."

"A blood quill," Snape sounded defeated. "Of course she'd use dark magic on students."

Snape reached out and grabbed Harry's right hand and closely examined the scars. They would never go away, a permanent reminder to the young Gryffindor about one of his most horrific years at Hogwarts.

"How many detentions did you have? And why didn't you tell anyone?"

Of course it's my fault.

"I told Ron and Hermione," he admitted, "and yes they told me to go to McGonagall or Dumbledore, but I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of hearing me complain about it. Hermione used Murtlap Essence on them, but this is what was left."

Neither professor nor student made a sound, however Harry could see the rage still behind Snape's dark eyes. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about the situation that had already happened. Harry really just wanted to ignore it altogether.

"I have to tell the Headmaster," the professor said, sad that this was yet another example of how the adults in Harry's short life had failed him. "He needs to be aware of the situation and he can handle it how he sees fit, even if that means going to the ministry."

There was nothing Harry could say to change Snape's mind. Had it only been himself subjected to the blood quill, he'd argue if that was really necessary, but he'd lose that argument now that Snape knew it was done in detention. Instead, he just moved to stare out the enchanted window.

"We'll be meeting Healer Smithe in the hospital wing at half past nine o'clock tomorrow morning," the potions professor said. Even now that they were away from Privet Drive, Harry still thought he looked exhausted and silently questioned if he would get more rest now that we're back at Hogwarts.

"We can't he do it here sir?"

"Since the intrathecal is done into the spinal cord, he would be more comfortable with it being done in the hospital wing."

"That's fair," Harry commented, not looking forward to the morning. "I'm pretty sure Ron almost had a heart attack playing chess against you. I swear he's usually better than he was tonight."

"I don't doubt that," Snape said casually, standing up, "where I'm from, we were usually pretty evenly matched. I wouldn't expect any difference here."

"So that's what you meant before; it had nothing to do with the Philosopher's Stone." Of course Harry was referring to when the professor alluded to Ron's chess skills only a couple weeks ago.

"Yes. Mr. Weasley and I have played many games of chess throughout the years," Snape walked away to the door. "Good night Harry."

"Good night, professor."