~~~~HP~~~~

By Friday, the day of Harry's magical testing, the Gryffindor could no longer contain his nerves over the upcoming examination. He'd barely eaten anything for breakfast or lunch, which was definitely not good on his last day before restarting chemotherapy tomorrow morning. Since up until this point in his tutoring, Harry had yet to complete an official Transfiguration lesson - the first being cancelled because of the vision and the rest because of the pneumonia - Professor McGonagall changed her schedule to be able to conduct his lesson earlier in the day; allowing them the time after dinner for his magical evaluation.

"You seem to be on schedule, taking into account everything you've had going on recently," his Transfiguration professor and guardian said. She was packing up after their lesson about human transfiguration, something Harry definitely could not attempt to do.

"Hermione's really doing a fantastic job at tutoring," the young wizard commented; and it was true, Hermione had always been a great source of information and extra help, so it was a natural transition for her to be a tutor.

"But how far behind am I compared to the rest of the class?" Harry asked suddenly. It was a question that had been weighing heavily on his mind all week and though he'd asked each professor that had come in for tutoring, he didn't expect it to come out so bluntly today.

"That is not a valid question Harry and you know it," the normally stern witch had sympathy written in her eyes as she looked upon her lion. "You cannot expect to be at the same level as your peers at the current moment."

"But I have to be," Harry whined, not at all caring that he sounded a bit like a small child. "What am I supposed to do when I restart classes at the end of the month? Especially when I can't use magic."

McGonagall patted Harry's arm in a patronizing way that angered the young wizard, "I will be working on solving that exact question this month so you will be prepared when the time comes to return to your classes. We will take care of it Harry; you needn't worry yourself over every detail now. Please trust me, Severus, and your other professors to take care of you."

"How is he?" Harry asked randomly. Sometimes he felt like his mind was more chaotic recently then compared to before starting chemotherapy. "Severus I mean... He seems exhausted all of the time."

"He has a lot going on right now," her answer was generic and unsurprising to the Gryffindor wizard.

"Can I do anything to help him?" Harry asked, "I already know I'm a main source of his stress and I don't mean to be... I don't want to burden him."

"It's nothing like how you're thinking," the elderly witch kindly explained. "Severus has always been a private person, even in his own school days, and has always felt the need to take on his issues alone - a trait you both share. He'll reach out to you when he is ready. Unfortunately, there are only a handful of people who can get through the walls he places around himself... Your mother was one; before their falling out of course..."

She trailed off in thought and Harry wondered to himself what their friendship had been like. Had it been similar to his own with Hermione and Ron?

"Now, you go eat dinner and I'll see you later for your aptitude testing. Is there anything you need before then?"

"No professor," Harry replied, collecting his books and notes into his school bag to take back to his bedroom.

"Harry, when we're alone do please call me Minerva," his guardian said, "I am your official guardian, though I doubt Severus remembers that fact."

Somehow it felt strange to call Professor McGonagall by her given name, more so than with Snape. Again, as his Head of House and now guardian, it should have come more naturally than with the former Potions Master. It showed just how much his relationship with Snape had changed.

"I'll do that," Harry eventually said, "Thank you Minerva. I'll see you tonight."

When the nervous young wizard finished whatever little bit of dinner he'd deemed himself able to keep down, he went to his room and grabbed his wand from the bedside table. It had been sitting there since he moved in after the Privet Drive attack, mostly untouched so it wouldn't tempt him into wanting to use his magic. Picking it up, Harry immediately felt a wave of his magic flowing through him from deep within his core into his wand hand and down all the way to his fingertips. He knew he shouldn't, but feeling his magic pulsing so strongly through him, he had to try some magic; wasn't that the whole point of today?

"Lumos"

He squinted when a bright light instantly sprung to the tip of his wand.

So far, so good...

"Nox." The light immediately extinguished.

That all seemed normal.

He walked out into the sitting room still feeling the magic almost swirling around inside of him like a snowstorm in the middle of January. Perhaps it was because he was concentrating on the feeling of it, but he never recalled feeling his magic so excited - for lack of a better word - when he held his wand after the previous summer holidays of not using it. Could the magic be more accessible because it's depleting? That made absolutely no sense, however he also never studied Magical Theory before either. Again, this was something he'd have to ask Snape or maybe even Flitwick or McGonagall about since it was a sore subject between him and Snape lately.

"Accio Notebook" the Gryffindor called out fully expecting to have the muggle notebook he had used for his Transfiguration lesson earlier that afternoon come flying to him. What he ended up catching was definitely not his notebook.

In his hands was a set of bound parchment with a blank black leather cover. Curiously, Harry opened it to see Snape's script written in black ink. He closed the book quickly, catching sight of his name right before the cover closed.

He shouldn't do it - that much was obvious - even if Snape had written something about him in it and it was so tempting to look at. He should put it back immediately, except he had no idea where it came from and he was dying to know what Snape would have written about him. Against his better judgement he decided to take a peek, so he cracked it open and flipped to the page where he saw his name written across the top. Immediately below his name was a note that meant nothing to the young wizard:

Horcrux? - container for

Furrowing his brows in confusion, no matter how hard he tried to decipher Snape's small writing, Harry couldn't make out the last word. What was it, this Horcrux, a container for? He'd never heard of that word and it wasn't surprising because Snape knew a lot of information - especially in the dark arts - that Harry didn't know. Horcrux. The name didn't even sound good. How did Snape think this was related to Harry? There were all sorts of notes along the margins, half of which were scratched out for some reason or another.

Peering further down the page, he found his answer circled in red ink.

Leukemia from Horcrux?

Apparently whatever this container or Horcrux was, Snape believed it had to do with how he'd gotten Leukemia. It made zero sense; how could a container affect his magic's ability to prevent his cancer?

Would have been nice of him to tell me.

The Gryffindor flipped to another page in the book that had all sorts of notes he recognized as his different medications, schedules, and a list of side effects. There was a hand drawn calendar with the dates of his chemotherapy, notated with either IV or IT/IV - obviously depending on which treatment type he was getting that day. Every couple of days there was a circle with an M inside of it and sometimes the M was followed by a plus sign or two plus signs and three of them on only one occasion.

Taking another random flip through the notebook, he saw the letters A.S. at the top of a page followed by 30.08.96? with a series of more tiny, unreadable notes.

Harry thought he made out the name Mary, maybe Lupin , and definitely there was Draco. Beyond that, there was a series of seemingly random dates - which went back before Harry was diagnosed with three of them before had even been born - and a random word here or there. None of it made any sense to the young wizard and he wasn't even sure Snape would be able to decipher it later.

A quick look at the clock over the mantle caused him to panic. Snape would be home in only five minutes and he had no idea where to put the book back! It had come from over his right shoulder, so he stood up and went over to the bookcase that was near the door to where Malfoy's old rooms had been located. There he placed the notebook randomly on a shelf; hopefully the professor would just assume he'd misplaced the book the last time he had put it back. It was weak - at best - but it would have to do because the second the book was returned, the floo roared and Snape walked out. Harry sighed in relief.

"Do you need something to read?" The professor asked, raising a single eyebrow.

"Erm," Harry rubbed the back of his neck making sure not to meet Snape's eyes. "I was hoping you had something to help with my Transfiguration essay. I can't really go to the library like I normally would for it."

The young wizard hoped his lie wasn't too obvious, especially because he really was going to ask if Hermione could bring him several library books at their next tutoring session for that exact purpose.

The best lies are built on a fraction of the truth, right?

"I'm sure we can arrange to get books on whatever topic you need, assuming I do not have a sufficient selection... which I would not for Transfiguration," Snape said taking off his teaching robes and hanging them up. Gesturing to Harry's wand in his right hand, Snape added, "I see you're ready."

"Yeah," he said warily, "Can we go?"

"Of course. We'll be floo-ing to Minerva's office and then we'll go with her to the Room of Requirement. Albus and Alton are already there setting up," Snape pulled out his wand and summoned a stack of files that came out from one of the other bookshelves. "Let us go."

Harry wondered what exactly the Headmaster had asked for when he entered the Room of Requirement. There was a long dark wooden table with five comfortable looking chairs around it - similar to one he'd seen on the telly that was used in a corporate office setting - each place had a set of parchment, ink, and quill, and up front was a chalkboard complete with different colored chalks he was sure he'd seen in his early primary school days. In the center of the table was a basket filled with an assortment of objects of all different shapes, sizes, and he would assume weights. For some reason he hadn't expected this to be so formal, and he started to get so nervous, his palms were sweating against his Holly wand.

Healer Smithe and Professor Dumbledore were already seated with Dumbledore taking the head of the table and the healer to his right. Between the two men were sheets of parchment scattered on the table and they appeared to be putting them into some kind of order that Harry could not make out from his vantage point at the door. His heart started beating against his chest and into his throat, in a way he couldn't remember happening since the Triwizard Tournament... any of three tasks.

Harry felt a firm arm reach around his back and a strong hand squeeze the side of his shoulder. The Gryffindor hadn't realized he had stopped walking upon entering the room, but now looked over to his left and saw Snape had his arm wrapped around him helping to guide the young wizard into the room.

"Breathe," the defense professor said, picking up on Harry's anxiety, "this will be easy and harmless."

"Yeah," Harry tried to say, only instead it came out as a croak.

"Welcome Harry," Dumbledore greeted, gesturing Harry to take a seat. The nervous Gryffindor sat in the first seat he reached, afraid his legs would collapse before he could make it any further. Snape and McGonagall both entered behind him and gave their greetings to the two men in the room. Snape sat directly next to Healer Smithe, which also happened to be in front of Harry, and McGonagall was to his right, between him and Dumbledore.

"Good evening Harry," Healer Smithe called out from the other side of the table, "how has this week been for you?"

"Brilliant," Harry said, which was the truth. Even with still having a cough from the pneumonia that landed him in coughing fits every-so-often, it was one of the best weeks since he'd been diagnosed; of course he also wasn't doing anything to stay in remission, and it had been a constant reminder to him how quickly the Leukemia could come back without continuing the chemotherapy.

"Ready to restart tomorrow?" The healer gave a small chuckle.

"Absolutely not," the young wizard said, ignoring the solace in Professor McGonagall's eyes. "But I'm more than ready to try out some magic."

Harry's cue to transition away from chemotherapy and onto his magical testing worked perfectly because they started going through what he should expect from each of these sessions; which would be done the day prior to the start of each chemotherapy round going forward. It was something he would actually be excited for if it weren't that they were testing to see how long it would be until his magic was completely gone. He closed his eyes trying to imagine he was getting evaluated for something completely different... his Auror training would work.

The professors put Harry through a series of magical tests and challenges, during which Healer Smithe had a diagnostic spell on him at all times to monitor his magical core for signs of exhaustion. Harry hoped that given how long it had been since his last chemotherapy, he wouldn't have to worry about magical exhaustion, yet there would likely come a time when he would; a thought that depressed him greatly.

Jumping straight into it, for the charms tests they had him summon objects of different sizes and at different distances; measuring how quickly each spell reacted. Then he had to levitate objects of varying weights to specific heights that were recorded based on if the object made it to the required height - which they all did without any issues - and the time it took for each object to reach that height, plus how long he could hold it at that height. Honestly, it was kind of fun to simply use his magic this way... for almost no purpose than to just use it.

Transfiguration was a little more complicated. First he had to vanish several of the objects on the table; unfortunately he left two of the dozen quills that were in the box of school supplies, knocking some points from that test. They then had him transfigure a mouse into a plate, but it ended up being just a bit more furry than it should have been. Professor McGonagall didn't seem at all disappointed with his level because as she put it "Transfiguration takes a bit more magic and precision than Charms", giving Harry the distinct impression that she'd gotten into this debate with Professor Flitwick before.

Since there wasn't any need to test Potions or Herbology, that only left Defense Against the Dark Arts. Snape stood up from the table drawing the Gryffindor's attention away from the chalkboard with his results and over to the practice dummies he had not seen when entering the room. Harry took his stance against one of the dummies with Snape standing at his right and Healer Smithe to his left. Harry could still feel the distinct tickle of the diagnostic charm watching over his magical core, however he refused to let that distract him. This was his best subject and the one Snape currently taught; fueling his desire to do well on this test.

Snape spelled the dummies to perform several simple jinxes so Harry could perform the appropriate counters for each one - similar to his O.W.L last June - before getting into a duel where Harry finally ended it with an expelliarmus, which predictably he performed perfectly. By the end, Harry was sweating and completely out of breath. This was the most physical he'd been since starting chemotherapy and even Healer Smithe took notice, reminding him that once he was into the next phase he should plan to start a daily exercise routine.

Harry nodded, "Before we finish, can I try out some of the non-verbal spells from my lessons?"

He had been hoping one of the tests would include things from the lessons he'd been taking this year. Dumbledore was quick to point out that since those lessons were so new, they would have nothing to compare him to and that was the purpose for these tests. Something like non-verbal spells though, wouldn't be too different from his verbal assessment or at least that's what Harry thought and he said so to the group in front of him.

"No," Snape said instantly, not at all even attempting to confer with the other adults in the room. "I don't want to risk that amount of magic after everything you have done tonight."

"Severus," Healer Smithe started, "his magical core has obviously taken some depletion tonight, however it's not anywhere near where he'd be in danger of magical exhaustion."

"I said no," the defense professor sternly replied before turning to Professor McGonagall for support, "And as Harry's official guardian, I'm sure Minerva will agree."

Whatever Snape managed to communicate to the Transfiguration Professor, it worked as her demeanor changed from light and excited to closed and cautious.

"I agree with Severus," the Scottish witch said with authority, "it's too much for tonight."

Harry nodded to the defense professor and went to take his seat, until he was stopped when Healer Smithe grabbed his arm. On instinct, Harry brandished his wand, then immediately lowered it upon seeing his healer's kind face. In the few seconds that process took place, he was oblivious to Snape and Dumbledore also reaching for their wands; something that did not go unnoticed by McGonagall though.

"Sorry Healer Smithe," Harry said embarrassed, "bad habit I'm afraid."

"Not a problem Harry," the man said reassuringly, "You've done an amazing job and hopefully tomorrow we'll have some answers about your magical core. I do need one more test though before you can go for the night."

"Sure thing," Harry said. He was enjoying getting to do some magic and wasn't in any hurry to stop. "What do you need?"

"Riddikulus," the healer said flipping through the notebook in his hand, "should be an easy one for you."

"Since I did it perfectly on my O.W.L.s, I think I'll be fine," the Gryffindor said confidently as he approached the wardrobe that was shaking. "Just a warning if you didn't know, my boggart is a dementor."

Snape stood off to the side with his wand brandished, just in case. Harry thought it was odd; did Snape really think he couldn't get rid of a simple boggart? The professor knew he got an Outstanding on his O.W.L, so it shouldn't come as a surprise to the man that he could do it. Then a thought popped suddenly into Harry's head -

I wonder what Snape's boggart is?

He didn't have time to think too hard about that as the wardrobe opened and Harry waited for the dementor to appear. Yet it wasn't a dementor at all, instead a green light flashed from behind the door and Snape's body came tumbling out; there was no doubt the professor was dead. The sight took Harry by such surprise, he jumped backwards gripping his wand tighter while willing his breathing to even out so he could think straight.

"Riddikulus!" Harry yelled and nothing happened. He closed his eyes to think; having no idea how to make the dead body of the only father figure he had left humerus. Having lost so much in his short life, deep down he knew he couldn't lose Snape too.

Swallowing hard, he tried a second time, "Riddikulus!"

Again, nothing happened. After the second failed attempt, the young wizard was pushed aside and in his place stood Snape. Harry watched as the dead Snape boggart started transforming and Voldemort stood before them. Snape took a half-step forward and yelled, "Riddikulus". The Voldemort boggart started to do an Irish Step Dance across the Room of Requirement before being sent back into the wardrobe.

Harry was panting on the floor when Snape bent down in front of him to help him back onto his feet.

"We're done here," the professor called out to the healer "I take it you have everything you need?"

"Yes, more than enough," Healer Smithe cryptically replied, "I'll see you both in the morning."

Harry was concerned about the first statement his healer had made; did his lack of appropriately dealing with the boggart equate to something negative with his magic?

Leading Harry out of the room, the professor called over his shoulder, "Minerva I'll see you later tonight."

They didn't wait to hear her response as Harry was swept out of the room and they started heading home.

~~~~SS~~~~

Harry's boggart was unexpected and caught the former spy completely by surprise. It was common knowledge at Hogwarts - ever since Harry's third year - that the Gryffindor's boggart was a dementor and something he should have been able to easily take down. Even in Severus's old reality, if Harry's boggart had changed from a dementor, he had no knowledge of it. Based on the surprised expression from the Gryffindor tonight when the boggart appeared, Harry hadn't expected the change of form either. Reacting purely on instinct, Severus made the decision to get Harry out of there before Alton could ask too many questions about the form or the fact that Harry could not defeat it so easily.

Now the only thoughts going through his mind as they made their way through the familiar corridors into the dungeons was how Harry would react to the news about the rescue mission. Leading the reconnaissance team, Severus would be required to be on-site at Malfoy Manor when the mission was in progress; plus it had recently been determined that he would be back-up for Lupin should something happen to the werewolf during the operation. After tonight's events, the former spy explicitly knew that this Harry would feel very close to how his old Harry would have felt about him going. They had discussed his spying days in his old reality, going as far as discussing what would happen should Voldemort return and Severus were called upon to resume his former role. In the end, they had come to the conclusion that as Harry's legal guardian there was no way of Severus reclaiming his old position anyway, yet it was clear Harry would have felt abandoned; something he never wanted his son to experience on his account. However, here it was much more complicated; he couldn't abandon his team and leave two innocent people for dead no matter how much he wanted to stay with Harry and deep down he knew the Gryffindor would ultimately understand.

"It caught me off guard sir," Harry said the moment the door to their quarters closed behind them. "I was thinking about what your boggart could be... and it led to thoughts about... I'm sorry."

Severus guided Harry to the sofa and helped him sit down before kneeling in front of him. There was no way Harry would know that the knowledge of how close they had become these last three months could be detrimental in the wrong hands. It was only a matter of time before the Dark Lord knew and the price tag on his life would likely increase with this information.

"There is nothing to apologize for; it happens to the best of us," Severus explained. "Outside of the boggart, you did very well tonight. I think we've got a good idea of what's going on with your magic now."

He would wait until Minerva stopped by later that night to discuss the details, but based on what he'd seen tonight - in relation to Harry's real file - his magic was not depleting. In fact, based on what he had seen tonight as well as the previous weeks, had he allowed Harry to try out the non-verbal spells, the professor had no doubt he would have succeeded and likely after the first try, giving Alton more information then they wanted him to have at the moment.

"It's just..." Harry started wringing his hands in his lap.

"You have nothing to be embarrassed about," Severus replied, taking a guess at what was bothering the Gryffindor. Harry's face immediately flushed. "Go off to bed, you have a busy day tomorrow."

"Thank you Severus," Harry said sighing in relief, standing to head back to his bedroom. "G'night."

"Sleep well Harry," The professor said.

Severus was intimately aware of how difficult it would be for Harry to have a conversation like that after living as many years as he did in neglect. This was one of those situations where actions spoke louder than words and they both had a very good idea where their relationship stood.

Sitting in his office, after Harry was asleep in his bed, Severus stretched his neck trying - in vain - to release some of the stress he was physically feeling. For a week that should have been easier overall, it was definitely a trying one on the defense professor. Harry's rant before their lesson on Monday caught Severus completely off guard as to how much potentially losing his magic was affecting Harry. He had considered offering the young wizard the chance to go back to classes for the week, as his immune system was likely well enough to handle the other students, but then decided against it as it would only prove how much further behind Harry was from his classmates and spotlight the fact that he was not supposed to use his magic. Given that Alton likely had already informed the Dark Lord of the potential to Harry's magical loss - and would now hopefully have a fake confirmation of it - keeping this information from the other students had more to do with Harry's outlook on his future than making sure the Death Eaters were unaware of it. In fact, the more he worked through their larger strategy, it would be better if the other side expected Harry to become an easy target and then he could surprise them with his true strength.

Of course, that's only if these magical outbursts aren't draining him further, Severus reminded himself. It very well could be that he'd have a year or so of strong magic followed by nothing. Severus vowed to not stop searching for a way to save Harry's magic until he either found the answer or the day came where Harry's magic was indeed gone forever.

The professor was going over his old school records, which had become Harry's for this purpose, and was comparing them to Harry's true records. It wasn't every day that a student was able to peruse their Hogwarts file and Severus was surprised to see how promising his professors had evaluated him throughout the years. Thinking back it never seemed to matter to him what his marks and aptitude were; he knew he wanted to get a Potions Mastery and - specifically in his later years - join the Death Eaters. What he wouldn't give to write a letter to himself back then and explain where his life would end up if he continued to follow that road. Could he have stopped himself from ruining his friendship with Lily? No, it wouldn't have mattered, he would have needed to tell himself not to join the Dark Lord and only then he may have had a chance to be with Lily. Would Harry still be enough of himself had Severus been his biological father instead of his adoptive one? What would have happened if Harry hadn't defeated the Dark Lord on the night Lily died? Too many what-if's flooded his mind to keep straight.

"I take it this is where we are meeting tonight?" Minerva asked bringing Severus's attention back to what was in front of him; he had completely missed her entrance into his office and that should never happen for a myriad of reasons.

"Naturally," he answered, closing the file in front of him, "it's the only place, outside of Albus's office, I can guarantee our privacy."

Coming into the room, she sat down in the chair in front of his desk and - quite bravely in Severus's opinion - pulled one of the books that was sitting on the desktop; it just so happened to be the one on genealogy.

"Is it possible something has been blocking Harry's magic this whole time?" She asked holding the book away from his grasp when he attempted to retrieve it. "Doing a little light reading yourself Severus?"

"I do not think that is any of your business," he said, summoning the book out of her grasp. "I think someone is getting far too comfortable down here."

"Oh I agree," Minerva smiled, "but it's not me. I imagine you were as surprised as the rest of us at Harry's change of boggart?"

He didn't want to discuss this, except he'd be playing right into her hand if he refused.

"I think it makes perfect sense given everything that's happened since the end of term last year; losing Black, his diagnosis, the Privet Drive attack," he said logically counting out everything that had happened in such a short amount of time. "Going back, why would you think something was blocking Harry's magic?"

Minerva gave him a look to say she wasn't going to drop the previous topic forever, but in the meantime she'd let it go. She placed the same book that Albus had brought when they discovered Harry's magical core pain - Magical Theory Vol IV - The Life and Death of the Magical Core - upon his desk; this time small pieces of parchment were littered throughout as bookmarks. Hopefully this meant she'd found something.

"To summarize my theory," the elderly witch started, "if something had been holding his magical core back, it could explain why his magic is growing as the muggle medication is breaking down whatever walls were holding it in."

The Horcrux?

If his theory was that the piece of the Dark Lord's soul prohibited Harry's magic from healing away the Leukemia cells, what's to say it didn't have other impacts on his magic overall? It made sense, yet left several other questions.

"Is that even possible?" He asked skeptically.

"If there wasn't at least one theory of such a thing, do you think I would I have even mentioned it?" Minerva huffed, insulted. "Who has been the one pouring over the magical theory textbooks; you or I?

"There's still so much unknown about magical cores, however one theory is that there are ways magic can be amplified or suppressed; in fact at least one wizarding community believes squibs simply have a block to their inherent magic."

Being in a profession where he often tested out his own theories and on occasion - such as with his modified burn salve - they were wrong, Severus couldn't refute another witch or wizard's work simply because he didn't personally agree with it. If they believed squibs had a block to their magic, how could they explain muggleborns where magic came up seemingly at random. Furthermore, why wasn't more being done to break down these supposed "blocks"?

"Hypothetically speaking, if there was something that could be blocking Harry's magic," Severus asked carefully, "what difference would that make to him?"

"Well for one, if the block were removed he would have access to more of his magic than prior to its removal," she said in a serious voice, "and it may be why we are seeing spikes of his magic appearing stronger now. The muggle medications could be breaking holes - so to say - releasing spurts of amplified magic."

He would need to discuss this with Albus where there would be no need for secrecy regarding the Horcrux. While he obviously knew he could trust Minerva, the Horcrux information needed to stay strictly between as few people as possible. When dealing with magical theories such as horcruxes and magical cores, there wasn't really any definitive proof of anything, making it difficult to make any solid decisions on it. They were getting closer, he could tell that much, and he needed to uncover it before Alton or the Dark Lord.

"Thank you Minerva," he said, grateful to have people by him to help work all of this out.

Severus and Minerva didn't finish with their examination of Harry's magical records until after midnight. With thoughts of magical cores and Horcruxes in the back of his mind, Severus fell into an anxious sleep. Unfortunately, as with the last three times at the start of Harry's long chemotherapy weeks, the young wizard could not have a restful slumber and Severus was awoken to the sound of the the Gryffindor screaming so loud it was as if he were in the professor's bedroom. Severus's eyes sprung open as the adrenaline instantly started to race through his body.

Running out of his bedroom and into Harry's, he found the teenager in bed screaming - unknowingly with a Sonorus to amplify his voice - while thrashing in his bed and writhing in pain. This was not the first time he had seen Harry have a nightmare, but it was the first time he appeared to be in physical pain from it. Reaching down he grabbed Harry's shoulder and shook him to try and wake him up.

"Harry!" He called out and when the teen did not react he tried again, only louder this time. "Harry! Wake up, you're having a nightmare!"

Frustrated, he quickly scanned the room trying to decide what he could do to help wake the teen up, coming up with only one - very bad - idea. Before he was able to cast the Aguamenti spell, he saw Harry's scar had burst open and was actively bleeding down his forehead. Severus's heart broke as tears started leaking down Harry's cheeks.

It's a vision.

"NOOOOOOO!" the young wizard screamed as he bolted upright in his bed. Without even stopping to take in his surroundings, the Gryffindor held his hands to his face and started crying.

In that moment, Severus could see how exhausted Harry was not only from the cancer and the chemotherapy, but also from the life he had lived; from being the small 18 month old toddler who saw his parents murdered and then was almost murdered himself, from being neglected all the rest of his life by those who were supposed to care for him, from being The Chosen One who time and again was needed to save everyone else. This child, who was asked to give everything he could with nothing in return, needed someone for himself.

Severus sat down on the edge of Harry's bed and pulled the distraught teenager into a firm embrace. Harry didn't try to pull away, instead he melted into the feeling of Severus's strong arms around his frail body; the feeling of someone who was there for him, someone who would help him, someone who loved him.

"They're dead," it took a second for Severus to comprehend the muffled words Harry had said against his chest. When Harry pulled away from him, he could see fear and defeat in the teenager's eyes, "He killed them! He killed them all."

~~~~AU SS~~~~

What was he thinking bringing the Boy-Who-Lived home to Spinner's End with him? Somehow it made perfect sense to Severus when he demanded that Albus not send Harry back to his relatives' house on Privet Drive, that he would take over Harry's care by becoming his guardian. At the time he wasn't even positive the Ministry would allow him to become anyone's guardian, let alone Harry Potter's, and he'll never know what Albus had to do to push the paperwork through so quickly, but in less than the week it took to clear out his classroom, he was given temporary guardianship and they left for Cokeworth. What had he been thinking again?

Severus could try to convince himself that he had been thinking of Lily; of how disappointed she would have been with him for not stepping in sooner. It wasn't as if he'd known how Harry had been living all of these years. Sure, he could have probably guessed - based on his history with Petunia alone - had he not been wallowing in the loss of the only woman he'd ever loved; the woman who had every right to leave him. Now somehow her son, and the son of his nemesis, was upstairs asleep in the bedroom Severus had grown up in.

However, he knew that was a lie. Ultimately, deep down he had been thinking of his own miserable childhood and how much he had wished someone would have done for him what he was now doing for Harry. How often had he sat in that same bedroom Harry was now sleeping in wishing someone would have stepped in and taken him away from his drunk, abusive father and from his mother who - even though he knew she loved him - resented him more? If he were being honest, he saw too many similarities between himself and Harry to ignore. Someone had to speak up and help the child.

Things had seemed easier back at Hogwarts where they had lived together for the first week after the term ended. Once the Fidelius was in place - with Albus as the secret keeper - and his classroom was cleaned out, they came to Spinner's End where they would live for the remainder of the summer. This was only their second night here and it felt much too personal to have the almost 12-year old in his childhood home. Severus was not the type of person to share his personal life with anyone and now he had James Potter's son here.

The Potions Master was down in the sitting room - which Harry called a library - attempting to catch up on the latest potions journal with those thoughts running rampant through his mind. They had a busy day getting Harry settled, or at least as much as he could given the worn down condition of the house. Most of the day consisted of cleaning out his old bedroom from the layers of dust, Slytherin decor, worn out clothing, and books on the dark arts. The room was small and right now in disrepair, yet Harry seemed extremely grateful to be there. After the Gryffindor had gone off to bed tonight, Severus created a list of all the things that needed to be addressed in the house to make it suitable for a child to live in - even if only for a couple of months out of the year - and tomorrow they would start tackling it. Harry insisted that he wanted to help as much as he could on the renovations and the professor was more than a little nervous how they would work together given their complicated history thus far.

In addition to the work to do on the house, Severus did not hesitate to add "clothes shopping" to his list of things to do. Watching Harry unpack his trunk today, he had gotten the impression that Harry's clothing was in dire need of replacing. The Gryffindor had not said a word about them as he placed the oversized clothing into the wardrobe, most of which had either holes or were so worn he could almost see through them. It was easy to tell that Harry's aunt and uncle had never purchased any clothing specifically for their nephew. Understanding how embarrassing it would be for Harry when they finally discussed this, the professor was preemptively trying to prepare for how to address the issue as sensitively as possible; something that was out of character for him.

It was almost midnight when he was finally checking the security wards and heading off to sleep. Severus took an extra couple of steps towards Harry's room to make sure the light was out - which it was - when he heard rustling and talking through the door. Brandishing his wand, just in case, the former spy approached the door both cautiously and silently. Listening carefully, he could hear Harry on the other side sounding like he was in a struggle. His mind immediately flew to the worst case scenario; somehow Albus had been compromised as their secret keeper and a Death Eater managed to get past his wards and into the house.

Turning the door knob slowly, so he could keep his element of surprise to the intruder, Severus peered through the cracked door. He quickly released the breath he was holding when he realized there was no one in the room besides Harry, who was still in bed but thrashing around in his bed covers, having what appeared to be a nightmare. As Severus approached the bed, the small boy was tangled all up in his bed sheets moaning almost indecipherable words. Severus managed to make out two of them and they were "Vernon'' and "Voldemort"; neither of which could be a good sign for his nightmare.

"Harry," the professor called out, shaking the young wizard's shoulder. "Harry, wake up, you're having a nightmare."

At first Harry did not respond, so Severus sat down onto the edge of the bed and called for him again. This time the young wizard awoke in a panicked fright.

"Ahhhh," Harry yelled, bolting upright in his bed.

"You're safe," Severus said standing up from the bed, completely unsure how to handle this type of situation.

"M'sorry professor," the Gryffindor said embarrassed, "did I wake you up?"

"Not at all," the professor replied, "I was simply on my way to bed and heard you struggling. It appears as if your bed covers might have won."

Awkwardly, Severus helped Harry untangle himself from his sheets and bedspread. Once he was freed, an uncomfortable silence fell over the two as neither knew what to do next.

"Erm," Harry started, "Thank you sir. I think I'm ok now."

Taking a close look at the boy in front of him, Severus could see how tired he appeared. How long had he been plagued with nightmares? Between his childhood and the whole Voldemort encounter less than a month ago, it didn't take a mind healer to guess why he was having them.

"Do you want to talk about your nightmares?" He asked Harry quietly, questioning yet again why he thought he was qualified to take care of a child. He hadn't the slightest idea of what to do.

"No, not really sir," Harry said in an equally quiet voice giving Severus the impression that he didn't know how to act around an adult who actually asked him how he was doing or feeling; especially when that adult was his hated Potions professor.

Sighing in frustration with himself, Severus thought back to one of the few times his mother had actually acted like a mother. Pulling his wand out, he summoned a glass of milk from the kitchen and using a heating charm, he warmed it up before handing it to Harry.

"This will help settle you back to sleep," the professor said as Harry took a small sip followed by another larger one.

"Thank you professor," the Gryffindor said, giving a smile that told Severus somehow the two of them would be alright together after all.